Assallya

X-Men: The Divided

I'd offer up Marionette or Whisper but I'd have to tweak them a bit.

Marionette: Marion uses psychic invisibility to stand next to an opponent and then engages in mind control... completely down to the neural level making it very hard to resist. The person she's standing next to then does whatever motion she does.

Whisper: Somewhat similar to Marion, Whisper has a telepathic range that extends only a few feet. She can whisper just about anything into someone's ear and then they must obey.

Skein or Loom: Manifests psychic ribbons, ectoplasmic manifestations, that bind enemies, in addition to the telepathy.

X-Men: The Divided

Well, certainly not our rookie team. One half of us are Blasters, the other half are Guerilla. We have nothing by way of support. When going up against the big guys like Godzilla or even Galactus you need a brainy type :) Our team is well short on brains. There's even a good chance Starry Eyed, and Plasma would feed Godzilla, making him stronger.

X-Men: The Divided

*grins* She says that in her internal monologue but if he actually was there she might think different. If anything it would be Bamf that would be more worried. Trying to explain to the Professor that it wasn't his fault! He didn't mean to get all "jiggy with it"... and it was all Sarah's fault. She bewitched him.... Yeah, that's it. To which, of course, the Professor would shake his head sadly and state that he was sooooooo disappointed in Bamf.

NnoooooOOOOOOOOO!

X-Men: The Divided

Recognizing the voice first before anything else Sarah's azure eyes settled on Laura's face inside the shadowed hood. Well, of all the people it could have been stumbling in on this scenario she could have imagined a lot worse. It could have been Cannonball, Sunspot or Bamf...

"What did it look like," Sarah whispered, staring up blankly, not moving a muscle beyond what she needed to respond, "I was dead. Taki, y'know, Takashi Matsuyo? Wheels? Anyways, he's been working on a Danger Room version of a MMORPG and I Taki asked me to help him out with his justice syst..."

Sarah looked at the blank stare Laura was giving her. Right. Laura was a clone, brought up and raised to be an assassin. It was most likely the only role playing she knew was when she was trained in impersonation to get closer to a target. The idea of spontaneous acting and playing a part in a grand story probably was a bit beyond her limited experience. Not that she wouldn't understand, Laura seemed scary smart to Sarah, only that it might take a little longer for it to get through all that conditioning.

"It's a combination of both improvisational theater and paintball only with swords and spells." Sarah attempted to explain though, hearing it spoken she wasn't quite sure if the explanation did it any justice.

"Well, in any event, I'm playing this character named Assallya and I got caught assassinating a duke's son and was promptly executed," she further explained, "I'm just not sure what is supposed to happen now. I mean, if you didn't come along... would I just keep hanging there and where the hell is Taki anyhow?"

Come to think of it, Laura shouldn't have been able to get into the Danger Room at all. Which meant... Taki must have stepped out, or rolled out in his wheelchair, for a minute, probably to grab some food or go to the washrrom and Laura had chosen just that moment to enter. Wonderful!

X-Men: The Divided

Hmmm... I don't know if you've ever seen someone die in person. It's rather creepy. After the even, the deceased usually looks rather wrecked, dishevelled and something like three quarters of the time foul themselves. As you can imagine they are completely unable to remedy the situation of their own volition and rely completely upon the charity of others for any sort of decency.

One of the things that separates us from our forebears is how we handle such situations though whether this is out of respect or simply to quickly remove anything reminding us of our own mortality I do not know. In ancient time, heck, in as little as two hundred years ago, bodies were often left in the streets for days until the smell became so unbearable the locals had to do something about it. You see a scene reminding you of this in "Gangs of New York". Interestingly enough, this became a substantive problem in ancient Rome and several of the ruling body decided to pay a group of men to perform corpse removal that they not be subject to unpleasant visuals.

X-Men: The Divided

Sarah hung, completely limp, her jaw slack, staring down at her black painted toenails as they pointed towards the cobblestone below. Her own legs were about all she could see with her death stare. It was quite relaxing really. One would think the weight would be completely upon her neck but she was floating, held aloft in the Danger Room's gravity fields. The sudden drop was rather startling and she was embarrassed to say that she had squealed in fright but the danger room had buoyed her entire body and protected her from any form of incidental harm. At first it had been interesting, listening to the conversations of those around her but now that the spectacle was over the crowd had mostly dispersed.

She wasn't sure what was supposed to happen next. Takashi hadn't really explained what she were supposed to do in this situation. If this were video game this was where you'd be prompted to revert to a saved game and continue. Was she supposed to just hang here for the rest of eternity? She didn't really want to risk a glance about. A dead body raising her head and looking about would be most out of character and there was no telling how the Non-Player characters Taki had created would react.

She was just about to give up and give Taki a piece of her mind when she spotted soft leather boots, the type a padfoot would wear upon a job. She couldn't see much else of the person with her hair obscuring her vision like golden drapes before a window. Was this what she was waiting for? Someone come to take her dead body and revive her so she could continue the adventure? A thin arm, reached out from beneath some sort of white robe or cloak or something and snatched the holographic coin from her bosom. Typical, Sarah thought, for a thief. Then the thief did something she didn't expect and reached up to slash at the rope above. Sarah suddenly became heavy and she fell onto the figure who supported her only long enough to lower her to the scaffolding's platform in a crumpled mass.

Now her vision was reversed, she could see only the sky above her. The moody clouds that perpetually threatened rain were now all she could see as she stared blankly towards them and past the looming figure that had cut her down and was bending over to get a better look at her corpse. She couldn't see anything inside the recesses of the hood, not who it was, nor if it was one of the students. One of the students? She hadn't considered that possibility. Suddenly she realized how she must look and if this was one of the guys and not an NPC she'd never hear the end of it- and yet... the dead didn't move... To hell with it, if it was one of the students covering up now wouldn't help.

X-Men: The Divided

Maybe Godzilla, maybe it's a giant mutant! Or Abomination on Pym particles! What we need is the almighty sky scraper sized mutant," Pinnacle'.

SW: Edge of the Empire: Ep. I - Escape from Mos Shuuta

Arla

Name: Arlas'eon (Arla Sion to humans)
Race: Twi'lek
Gender: Female
Age: 21
Homeworld: Ryloth
Profession: Slave
Appearance: Arla is arrayed in little more than golden bangles and gems. She needed nothing else in the musty warm environs that the huts enjoy.
Personality: Arla is quite cynical. Her life has been nothing but hardship. Her fellow slaves spoke about how wonderful it would be to be slave to someone wealthy. Teemo changed all that. She fully expects those she helped escape to betray her or abandon her despite opening their cells.

Bio: As Ryloth is tidally locked to its star and only a thin band of the planet's surface is capable of supporting life. One half is perpetually too cold, the other a burning wasteland. As a result most Twi'lek are forced to live underground. Having evolved from simple underground dwelling mammals they have hairless bodies and keen senses. Their lekku and ear cones, at one point, compensated for their blindness, both of which have become less sensitive as their eyesight developed.

Arla was born there, her clan poor and starving in the deep caves. Only the rarest and most powerful clans able to live on the thin band of surface that isn't a hot blasted or frozen wasteland. On rare occasions she would go out and watch the "under worlders" raid the surface clans for food and valuables while the "upper dwellers" would raid the under ground portions of the planets for slaves with which to trade to the "off worlders". So it has been for thousands of years and so it is likely to continue.

Arla was taken in one such raid, just one of thousands that were used as bartering material with off worlders who have absolutely no interest in helping the Twi'lekki people get off world and establish themselves on a less gods forsaken planet. They love the pathetic needs of the Twi'lekki peoples for they are incredibly easy to take advantage of, fighting amongst themselves for the crumbs the greater galaxy chooses to fling their way. The tribe that kidnapped her sold her for a blaster, which would be of great use killing her own people and was packed aboard a slaver starship and whisked away from her home. Later, she would be sold for thousands of credits against the two hundred credits the cheap blaster would cost. Later, they would make even more credits off of the power packs which were cheaper still. Quite the lucrative deal.

Arla, like most subterranean twi'leks is an accomplished fighter with the primitive stone weapons and slings. Wood, of course, being so incredibly rare that it could not be wasted in the crafting of weapons. The women of a tribe were expected to protect it while men were away hunting for food or raiding other tribes for their supplies. She is, as one might imagine from living underground, also quite adept at skulking about in the dark.

Aboard the starship that had taken them she, along with several of the slaves, had to deal with an unknown creature in the ship's hold that was hunting down the slaves one by one. She served as bait but managed to lure it into an airlock and decompress it. It was the scariest thing she had ever done.

After that she arrived at the slave auction and was promptly tattooed. Apparently normal humans were discomfited by the Twi'leki lack of eyebrows. They also informed her that, had they time, they'd have performed a genetic augmentation upon her that they did to many Twi'Leki, replacing her cones with... human ears! The very idea disgusted her. Those strange wrinkly misshapen things on the side of human heads were so ugly!

Afterwards, Teemo made his purchase and Arla has been his ever since. It wasn't pleasant. After some years, she found opportunity when a number of unruly sorts were being held in the cells. She used her free reign of the palace to stroll down there and provide them with what they needed to escape.

Weapons: A makeshift shiv

Gear/Equipment/Items: Teemo allowed Arla no equipment save for the jewels he made her wear.

Other Notes: Arla is quite uncomfortable with technology, sometimes even having trouble with simple things like opening unlocked doors. She also doesn't have a lot of experience with the galactic standard tongue.

Obligations: Bounty: wanted captured alive by Teemo the Hutt, mainly so he can see her die for her betrayal.

SW: Edge of the Empire: Ep. I - Escape from Mos Shuuta

Arla's head spun about the establishment. It was, it appeared to be, some form of gathering place like a chieftain's largecave. The woman in the armoured shell quickly stalked over to a tall wooden barrier that also served as a table of sorts and asked for a glass of water, looking for all the universe, as if she weren't the object of a manhunt. The others milled about, concerning themselves with how they might ask next. With the pig men behind them Arla considered one of two possibilities. She could easily bound up into the rafters or...

One suggested leaving but going out through the singular doorway would lead them straight into the clutches of the cumbersome Gammoreans. Meanwhile, the other one of the men she'd freed from their cells suggested a bar brawl. Well, if he wanted such a thing she was going to take advantage of her second idea. It would not do to be struck down before their enemies even arrived. She would instead hide in plain sight.

Striding across the room as if she worked there Arla mounted the platform upon which the Twi'lek woman danced to the music of an unseen band. With little more than a nod she began to dance in tandem with the girl, blending into the background. The other dancer adjusted her performance to accommodate and the pair began to move as one, slender limbs and lekku intertwining. One dark eye Arla kept on the doorway as she danced, watching for the Gammoreans sent to recover Teemo's lost property.

X-Men: The Divided

The overcast sky rumbled, threatening rain. Lightning scored the clouds, momentarily limning the grey with a shock of silver light. The buildings haphazardly leaned against one another, as if they were too weak to stand by themselves and as a result presented many a shadowed nook to take refuge within. Few windows possessed glass. Most of them were simply shuttered with wooden slats. The shingles beneath crouched fingertips mostly wood; only the more affluent were able to afford clay tiles.

As the young mutant peered across the nearby square she looked past several evening stragglers and was greeted by the sight of a shock of golden hair. It's colour brilliant against the dingy mud spattered town. A figure was in the middle of the square, a female silhouette hanging from a wooden scaffold. A rope was affixed to the overhead spar and it reached down, circling the figure's neck, holding her aloft, several feet from the cobblestone below. She was curiously attired. Pale slender limbs ensconced in fine sheer ebony harem style silk sleeves and leggings. Rope creaked as the woman swung softly, bare feet dangling, black painted toenails pointing towards the gutters. Laura could not see the woman's face, not with her head hanging down on her chest and the golden tresses serving as a funerary veil. Her leather mid-riff revealing bustier had failed to contain her bosom, one breast was openly displayed, having presumably been shaken free by the force of the short drop and sudden stop. More curiously, was what appeared to be a single piece of coin tucked in tight between the slope of breast and bustier.