'Talia Rose... no no The Performer, the city's new superhero'... The Asian girl sighed contentedly, pulling her long, black jacket closer around her for security and familiarity, mulling the idea over in her mind. She was sitting in the back of a vehicle on the way to the headquarters where she was supposed to meet and hopefully get this job. She wondered how many others might have answered this desperate call for help and wondered what they might act or look like... Her young and rather sheltered mind filled with ideas and images of imagined heroes both male and female. What would they think of her? Would they all be able to be a team and work together? She knew she didn't look like she could do much other than look pretty, but a lot of people underestimated her. Talia was used to that by now.

All through her childhood and teen years, everyone in her family just tried to make her into this petite, graceful, beautiful dancing girl. They even gave her a name befitting of her exotic beauty: Talia Rose and even Talia meant "dew drop." In fact, she felt more like a doll than a child as both of her parents doted on her and hovered about trying to mold her to fit the imagined destiny that they worked so hard to build. Trouble was that no one bothered to ask her how she felt about it or if she was happy with this life. Women of her nationality didn't really get much of a say in their preferences or opinions, so she just learned to keep quiet and practice her own tricks and challenges alone in her room or on the way to the various performances.

One night however, when she was a little girl of ten years old, her father had come to her and told her about the energy and life force that is all around and within every living being. He said it was called Chi and Talia, utterly enthralled, took it upon herself to learn to practice and master understanding Chi and how it worked. As she studied and meditated and practiced diligently every day and night, she shared her experiences with no one. This gave her the ability to harness her own capabilities of movement and even the movement of her own dancing sashes and ribbons and make them into something more extraordinary. Sometimes, if viewers of her performances were lucky, she might even add a little extra flourish into the dances themselves... and all because of her father sharing his knowledge with her that one night... 

Talia's thoughts broke off slightly when she remembered, with a slight pang of guilt, the message that she had left her family and friends with back home: basically, a lie saying that she would stay safe and send them any pictures and information regarding her next performance. 'They would be proud someday,' she convinced herself, straightening up and lifting her head in confidence and excitement. The enthusiasm on her face drained a little bit, however, when the car stopped in front of a run-down looking building and the driver looked back at her expectantly. With a start, Talia realized that this must be the headquarters and she quickly paid the man then grabbed her cloth bag and stepped out of the car.

It was slightly windy, and she was glad to have the black jacket covering her almost-bare midriff, chest and shoulders. The dance attire of the blouse and harem pants was skimpy, yet the only suitable thing she could think of to wear to such a thing since it was literally her special outfit worn anywhere that she performed. Still, for the moment she was glad that no one could see anything. Talia knew it wasn't her time to be "onstage" so to speak. She walked into the building and up the hallway of the correct door and then started slightly as she saw a rough, unkempt-looking man standing at the same door where she was supposed to be. Her face fell slightly but she covered it well and stayed a little at a distance as she caught the strong scent of alcohol and God knew what else on him.