Rawk

Chronicles of the Dark: Domino City

LOL @Archmage MC ...too funny, but I swear if you use any hammer attacks or headbonks I will be very cross! Very!

Chronicles of the Dark: Domino City

Alrighty kiddos, character sheet is posted...finally

*shakes fist at server errors*

Looking forward to joining the fray soon enough!

Chronicles of the Dark: Domino City

Czigani (Character Sheet)

Name: Czigani Salahori
Nickname: “Ink”
Age: 28
Gender: F
Appearance: Czi stands taller than an average female. Her wardrobe is kept generally simple, from black denim pants covered in various belts, chains, and buckles that serve no purpose to simple leather and cloth tank tops varying in color and inked with custom artwork. Leather & steel “shit kicker” boots...if she’s wearing shoes at all. Depending on her mood, her head is shaved at times, or grows it out on one side about shoulder length and keeps the other side shaven to reveal a circular tribal tattoo. Various piercings adorn her ears and lip, and her body is mostly covered with black tattoos ranging from tribal patterns, to more elaborate mythical creatures.

Height: 6`1
Weight: Approx 150lbs

Personality: Czi has a tough exterior, and is even harder to please. She tends to come off as pushy and can be impatient with most people, even though she is a tattoo artist (lol). Her real only “joy” is delving into her artwork, whether it’s a simply doodle on a napkin in a restaurant, to a large mural on the side of a building, she takes it seriously enough.

Bio: (see below)

Skills:
Tattoo artist & street mural artist,
Raised in Industry Ring, has small tattoo shop and also specializes in airbrushing designs on prosthetics/cybernetics

Power:
- Art Manipulation (specializing in body art)
- Essentially, a telepathic ability that allows her limited control over tattoos on skin and (to an extent) the paint used on prosthetics, and to a smaller degree, black ink sketches on paper or solid objects can be made substantial and controlled.
- Natural ink created by plant dyes, animal minerals, salts and various other natural sources, etc work the best. Synthetic inks are generally weaker.
- If manipulating her own body art, then the results are more successful and effects stronger and longer lasting (i.e. a crow tattoo can fly off her and attack, but damage is minimal) or she could manipulate a drawing on the wall to reach out and grab an assailant, helping her to escape, or beat the pulp out of them.
Can manipulate targets tattoos (up to 30ft away) with varying results

Her body is covered with various tribal & cultural designs which can temporarily augment to protect her from physical damage (more out of self-preservation than willful act, i.e. defense mechanism)

Drawback: Each piece of artwork causes varying degrees of mental fatigue, and the longer it is sustained, the more lethargic she can become, to the point of unconsciousness if not careful. There are instances where art, if not conjured properly and kept in control, could turn on her and become violent until it dissipates on it’s own.

Possessions: messenger bag full of art supplies, namely ink vials, several pen tips, sticks, and reams of paper.

Backstory (leading up to 1st IC post)

“At what point, Padre, do we forget who we are, what we stand for, and where the fuck we're going?”

The young woman, stained in sweat, blood, and soot sat on the floor at the base of the church altar, her head resting against the severely out-dated wooden paneling. The black mascara that once accentuated her emerald eyes ran down her cheeks like watercolor on canvas, covering the several cuts and bruises she’d suffered only an hour earlier. Her dark hair, shaven on one side revealing a circular tribal tattoo pattern, and on the other side hanging roughly jaw length tangled and wet with sweat, obscured her direct line of sight to the priest sitting and listening intently in the pew across from her.

“I'm not ashamed of what I did. He had it coming. So think whatever sick shit you want to conjure up in your small brain.” The girl flashed a wry grin, a slight cough building up from smoke inhalation earlier. “I bet you think I’m just some mutant street shit from the Indi, yeah?” She accused, trying to hold back any tears. “I bet all us tattooed freaks down in the slums look the same to you...” She forced a pathetic laugh, pushing her bangs behind her ear. “I know they did to...him...that prick I once called ‘family’.”

The priest leaned forward in the bench and gazed for a moment at the olive-skinned woman with the slim build, her dark-red tank top dotted with black soot and torn, and her jeans riddled with small holes. She had no shoes, which exposed her mud-covered feet and black toenails. He noticed several large dark symbolic and bestial tattoos that covered her arms were slowly moving, mesmerized, almost as though they wanted to peel away from her skin. A long dragon-like creature on her arm slithered in a hypnotic motion, and a crow on her chest with wings spanned from shoulder to shoulder, appeared as though it would launch at any moment. Most of her body, from what he could see, had various tattoos of tribal or cultural significance, many of which she inked herself as was her profession. He knew who she was. What she was. But it didn’t make being in her presence any less awkward.

Her kind were distastefully known as “Children of the Dark”, and their existence to many were a blight within the community. To a mother she never knew, possibly, but to her father, an honored ex-military police captain who was hailed as some hero from years ago, she was simply known as “Some kind of Damaged”. His love was to the job, and if that job meant keeping the Children in line, then his eye was ever fixed on his only daughter. No matter how often the beatings came, or being locked in her room for days without food, she wouldn’t change. She couldn’t be normal like he wanted. But it didn’t matter. He was gone now. Nothing but a charred corpse and a hollow building she once called a home.

“It’s God’s job to judge, not mine” The priest finally responded, trying to avert his eyes from following the path of the women’s ornate body art, which lead into areas he deemed inappropriate for a young lady to defile with such imagery. “And...yet you being here, confessing, allowing me to listen, is a step in the right direction to redemption. So I applaud you for that, child.”

The girl snickered “Child? I’m almost a hag...geez pushin’ thirty, bro. Meh, it doesn’t matter, you’re still way older than me, am I right?” She forced yet another snicker causing her husky cough to return.

The main sanctuary doors at the other end of the aisle quickly opened revealing a handful of uniformed Military Police officers, flashlights and assault firearms poised at the ready.

“Czigani Salahori, you’re under arrest for the murder of your father, Captain Jorgio Salahori” The lead officer held the girl at gunpoint “You sick piece of gypsy trash” He mumbled under his breath, but loud enough to be heard “Why’d you have to burn him alive…”

The girl, her eyes wide with a mix of anger and fear, looked back at the priest, whose somber expression gave away too much.

“Y-You called them?” She exclaimed, her voice echoing throughout the sanctuary hall. “Bastard Gadjo!...I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you! What the hell happened to that ‘seal of confession’, or whatever bullshit you assholes are supposed to follow?”

The priest shifted uncomfortably as he spoke. “I didn’t tell them anything, except that you were here. They already knew the rest Czigani…”

The woman, enraged, lunged out toward the priest from her sitting position “You son of a b-...” She was caught by one of the officers mid-way, spun around, and pushed back down onto the floor. “Fuck! He deserved it! You pricks knew he was corrupt and abusive-” Her words caught in her throat, as the lead officer pushed her face against the cold floor and clasped her wrists with handcuffs, taking extra care to tighten them until she screamed.

“Shut your whore mouth!" The arresting officer snarled, his knee pressed firmly against her back. "Cop-killer scum like you don’t have rights. And where you’re going, you’ll wish I’d put a bullet in your head right here.”

------------------------------------------------------

The long trip to the R&D Ring was anything but pleasant, but why should it be? Thrown in the back of a police cruiser, chained to the seat, with two heavily armed and armored officers flanking doesn’t usually mean you’re being brought in on a misdemeanor charge. Although her snarky comments and sarcastic disposition did nothing to help her, and only awarded her a swift elbow in the jaw. No, this was some real damage Czigani had done, a scar to not only the community, but to the Military Police force. Her father, warts and all, was a well-respected and upstanding officer within the R&D, and his brutal death sent a ripple that would never be mended so easily.

They just didn’t see in him what she saw throughout most of her life.

The transport pulled up to the precinct, and the woman was practically dragged into the building by the two officers and tossed into a holding cell where she sat, swearing and banging on the cell door, until a few hours later was visited by a large figure she hoped to never see again.

“Hello Miss Salahori” The towering beast, more machine than man as he appeared, leaned against the barred door holding a holopad with a series of scrolling information, his expression painted with a hint of amusement, and his eyes glowed with an almost sinister intent.

“I see you’ve been a very bad girl.

“You!” Czigani’s eyes widened and mouth agape, but no sound came out.

“Officer Reinhardt actually, but you can call me Drei, or whatever...”

“Asshole”

“That works too” He grunted, keying in a few digits on the holopad before continuing. “So, you’ve got quite the rap sheet: petty theft, some vandalism, oh...and mostly graffiti related on private property…”

“Pfft, it’s not ‘graffiti’ you dick..” She interrupted, laying her head back against the stone wall. “It’s artwork, something you’ll never get through your cyberfreak neanderthal head”.

Reinhardt, paying little attention, continued scanning through the list until he stopped at a particular section.

“Ah, so that explains all the ink - you call “artwork” - covering that pretty little body of yours. The genetic mutation gave you power over them. A sort of ”Art Manipulation”, if you will. And I suppose that would also explain the black ink markings around your father’s neck”

“Yeah, I strangled his sorry ass for laying hands on me.” She lifted her right arm into the light, revealing a reptilian creature tattoo wrapped from her wrist to her shoulder. “This one here, he’s a nasty bugger when he wants to be, and it knows when to step in. So, it was your beloved ‘Captain’s’ own damn fault for touching me”

Reinhardt nodded, intrigued to a point, but trying his best to keep from putting his fist through her skull. “So, a defense mechanism? Interesting.”

“Look numbnuts, are we going to be here all fucking day? Isn’t there a quiet corner you could put me in so I don’t have to listen to your droning voice?”

The cell door suddenly slid open, and before Czigani could react, the large cybernetically enhanced officer had her pinned up against the cold wall, his metal hand slowly clamping down around her neck. The woman’s face was a mixture of surprise and anger, but she was helpless to do anything at that moment.

“Do you think this is a game? I could kill you right here, right now, and no one would give two shits about it” His voice was low, gritty, and a raging fire seemed to erupt in his cybernetic eyes.

“In fact, I would love nothing more than to tear you limb from limb and let those mutant shit-hounds that scour the lower sections feast on your pathetic remains. No one will remember you ever existed. And all of that precious work you call ‘art’?...well...it’ll be nothing but a bad memory. But you’re not going anywhere. Oh no, you’re not getting out of this as easily as death. You will get what is coming...”

Reinhardt gave her a swift elbow in the stomach and released his grip, causing her to double over onto the floor. He remained still for a moment before walking away.

“That was only a warning, bitch. Hard times will be ahead and one way or another you are going to cooperate with us.”

A slight chuckle replaced the previous heated anger.

“Re-Education is coming, my dear...”

Star Wars: A New Beginning

What?? @frapet You're not supposed to just up and leave whenever you want? :)

I'm sure we can keep ourselves entertained in your absence! Maybe a pancake will make it's way into my ship!

Chronicles of the Dark: Domino City

And I've posted! Have some boundless enthusiasm and naivety to brighten your day! Or exasperate you, your choice! XD
Yeah, he's still inexperienced in the avoiding fights regards as well. I'm not kidding when I say the kid has absolutely no street smarts. If he carried a wallet, it'd be picked in a second. At least he has his nanites to protect him, lest he walk into a telephone pole and break something.

@Invader Len

I sense Jericho will be the unlikely hero in this drama! :) Very good read @Invader Len!

Chronicles of the Dark: Domino City

Confessions of a Disney Employee

@Treue

Wow, I knew I've seen that bulbous doodle somewhere before! Coincidence??

Chronicles of the Dark: Domino City

You know something thats fun? Quantom physics/mechanics. xD GL explaining those. Much harder than vectors.

Or cosmology. Thats also fun. Or particle physics. THAT one is really fun.

@Archmage MC

....or explaining to a 4 y/o that life at Disney World would be considered slave labor.

Meh, two sides of the same coin *shrug*

Star Wars: A New Beginning

The asteroid field’s magnitude seemed to fluctuate as both ships drifted along toward the Monitoring Post at a steady speed, Enforcer One falling back a good distance to ensure anonymity was kept in check.

Gavon continued to peer out the forward viewport toward his target, the Milano, his eyes squinting slightly with suspicion. The ship ahead of them appeared to be slowing down in small increments, even before making it to the checkpoint, which made the Agent wonder if they had already been hailed by Flight Control to be scanned

“If it's a guilty conscience they have, then there'll most likely be a slip-up on their part, causing Command to have no choice but to board them…” Gavon mumbled to himself, or so he thought.

“Sir, were you speaking to me? Your vocal modulation was much lower than it would be during a normal conversation. The likelihood of their vessel being boarded it approximat-”

“E-V!” The Agent raised his voice above average, with a tinge of irritation that lasted only a moment before he released a deep breath. “...I don’t need those statics. If they’re boarded, this may put a dent in our plans since the crew will be held for an indefinite amount of time, and this mission needs to be completed ASAP.”

“My apologies Agent, I will continue to monitor any changes in the Milano’s systems” The droid responded, it’s cool, confident, and sultry female voice seemed to ease any further anxiety on the bridge. Was this part of her design? He mused, a half-smile formed at the thought.

Gavon stepped in front of the holomap once again, studying the trade routes highlighted by his previous intel, and cross-examining past routes taken by resistance fighters. His hope was to gain a few strategic steps ahead of his targets, predicting their moves before they even know where they’re headed. A feat much more challenging than not.

“Agent, we are being hailed by Flight Control, shall I open the channel?”

“Go ahead E-V”

The crackling of the transmission wavered a bit before leveling out.

“This is Flight Control, you just entered the guidance area of Monitoring Post 3. Slave control to- ” The voice on the other end was suddenly cut off for a moment before resuming. “Uh...my apologies sir, please transmit your codes when ready”

A bit of relief washed over the Agent, as for a moment he wasn’t sure why they would have put him through the ringer yet again. He assumed, as in most large industries, a lack of communication between one station and another, or perhaps new personnel. Either way, he pulled up the list of codes, triggered the encryption protocol, and sent a new alphanumeric algorithm.

“Let’s hope this is it for these damn codes. You’d think these guys would just take a hint” He said, tapping his finger on the communication console. The thought had crossed his mind a few times, that even when he had been initially approached by the First Order, whether he was being played for a fool, or did they truly need a man who was once on the inside. The Empire, for all it’s flaws and misdeeds, was still honor-bound, especially within the circle of Imperial Intelligence. Was the First Order upholding that tradition?

“This is Flight Control. Sir, these codes have been run twice in our system and are coming up null and void...” Mumbled chatter could be heard in the background, as though there was a dispute between their own security protocol and that of specific instructions from the First Order. Gavon, shaking his head in disbelief, stood there listening to the exchange, their transmission fading in and out.

“Agent?”

“What.”

“Sir, one of the tracking modules has apparently dislodged from the hull of the Milano and is currently drifting.”

Aside from the unfortunate news, the droid’s smooth voice was a pleasant interruption to the static chaos and incessant bickering over the comm. Hopefully a decision would come from Flight Control soon before more pieces begin falling off their target ship.

“Correction Sir…” The EV-12 droid continued, a slightly less inspiring tone in her voice. “The tracking module has been hit by an asteroid fragment and completely disintegrated. My humblest apologies...”

“That’s...great E-V, thank you for that information...”

Chronicles of the Dark: Domino City

Don't let Drei catch you with stolen/restricted tech. He takes that seriously.

@Treue

Shhh!...no one needs to know our little secret...

Chronicles of the Dark: Domino City

@Rawk For the CotD, the penal system is not fun. First the are detained in the R&D Ring to have their abilities researched, and then they are either executed or "re-educated" to work with the MP and hunt down more CotD. Any normal person is judged using the basic American legal system.

And I saw you lurking. Nobody can hide from me. Nobody. *glaaaaaaaaaare*

@Treue

Love it! I'll post my character as soon as I can catch her sorry ass. She's so damn slippery...

@Ally610 Superstrong bunnies are quite useful!

Hmmm...I'll need to track you down so you can carry all the stolen shit I've "commandeered" from those pathetic MPs ;)