Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Jun 16, 2009 5:10:46 GMT -5
Assigned Name: Tango
Birth Name: Ca’tra Yustapir (KAH-tra YOOST-ah-PEER Mando’a Translation: Night-sky River)
Race: Human
Age: 25
Height: 5’ 4”
Weight: 125 lbs
Birth place: Dxun
Appearance:
For the most part, at first glance anyway, Tango appears to be your typical young woman in her early 20s. With chocolate brown hair reaching to the bottom of her shoulder blades and cut into layers, a trim and muscular athletic form, decent curves, and a pretty face with full lips and smooth skin, Tango is rather easy on the eyes. Speaking of eyes, that’s where the oddities begin, though they're really the only ones you can SEE. Due to her surgical implants her eyes are an unusual color of lavender, keen and intelligent.
When seen in public, the young woman adopts one of two appearances:
1) the casually dressed civilian: Often seen in boots, pants, a top and a leather jacket with a utility belt, her hair is almost always down or arranged into a loose braid or ponytail. This is the way she is typically seen.
2) the silent assassin: Tango armor Link One set of black and lavender armor that can be layered to adapt to the environment around her, or the situation at hand. “Body blades” snap into bracers on her forearms to make the most use out of her hand to hand/martial arts fighting style. Sometimes she is seen with various throwing knives strapped about her body or a plain brown canvas ‘serape’ covering that folds over her shoulders and clasps at the neck to hide the armor below and provide extra protection from the elements (it is the canvas serape she created on Dxun...with a few modifications). Her hair is often done up with a clip and pins to keep it out of her way. She is, however, rarely seen in her armor any longer.
((Previously)) When seen around the base Tango can often be seen in these two things:
1) Company PT clothing: the standard Green Meadows PT clothing that is given to all of the “Merchants of Death” assassins (women’s cut) to perform their daily training in: shorts and a short sleeve shirt for spring and summer, and pants and a long sleeve shirt for fall and winter. Her hair would be tied back, pinned up, or braided to keep out of her face.
2) Daily: Often seen studying, eating, lounging (what little of it is allowed), and practically everything else in the most simple FULL set of armor ((the far left image of the three sets)) without her blades, knives, or the heavier strapped on top armor that the blades hook into, gloves or gauntlets. Her hair might be back, up, or down depending on her tastes that day or how much work she wishes to put into it….whichever way, it will be a simple style.
Personality:
((current)) Since her RELIC chip began to degrade, Tango is most often a flight not fight woman. Timid and paranoid of being caught, she prefers the shadows and night time to move about. Fear is her number one emotion, sadness and confusion coming in close second to it. There are times when, seemingly out of the blue, she will start crying, this is mainly due to her guilt at Victor's death for her freedom, and Alpha's possible death. She still holds some small hope that Alpha is still alive and managed to get away, but she feels that (because of what she saw) there is little to no hope that Victor managed to survive. She has little knowledge of other emotions since her RELIC chip is still semi-functional, and so it inhibits some of her emotions to this day.
Despite her timidity, Tango shows great potential to be a strong minded and capable individual if given the proper encouragement. There are still times, however, when she is purely unemotional and take control...mainly when her life is in irrefutable danger, but even then it sometimes takes something to snap her out of her fear to become that way once more.
Profession: Ex-Assassin
Skills: Green Meadows Assassin Training
Specialties:
Aikido
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 7
Intelligence: 8
Speed: 8
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 8
Melee Weapons: 5
Ranged Weapons: 4
Specialized Combat Skill: 8
Hand to Hand (with adaptation for “body blades” or really ANY short range blades)
Specialized Non-Combat Skill: 8
Medical Training (Medic)
Alignment: 0
Ship Name: The Vesper
Bio:
Ca’tra Yustapir was born like any other human child…she had a mother, she had a father, they had loved each other (if only for a little while), her parents were mandalorian and it seemed that she would have everything going for her. She was a growing little girl with an abundance of energy and a fiery spirit to boot. Her parents were often heard telling the little girl she had Mandokar, and that they hoped she would keep it. At two she was already showing signs of being an agile and wiry little nipper, her crawling and walking taking her throughout the small house swiftly and quietly. The moon of Dxun was a harsh environment however, even for adults, so it was little surprise when her father came home injured one day from hunting. It made things difficult for the little family, who’s livelihood came from selling the meat, skins, tusks, and whatever else could be gotten from hunting out in the jungles. This didn’t stop Ca’tra, however. If anything the little girl thrived because of it and showed a keen sense of curiosity about the injury. Chuckling, her father had let her play with the gauze while he’d applied the cleaning fluid and kolto. When he’d taken it from her to wrap the injury, the little girl had pouted until he’d allowed her to ‘help’ him. For such a young girl, she had looked awfully proud to have helped her buir.
By that time she was two, and it seemed the galaxy was right…but for little Ca’tra, the galaxy would never be ‘right’ as most people knew it. A band of pirates (who also, incidentally, doubled as slavers) had seen fit to seek refuge near the little girl’s home. This wouldn’t have been such an issue if it hadn’t been for the fact that the crew seemed determined to chase away or poach every living thing within ten miles of them. For the already struggling family, this was the nail in the coffin. Horun (Ca’tra’s father) and several others in the small village went to face down the pirates when they came into it for a few drinks. Needless to say it was a slaughter…but, oddly enough, it wasn’t the pirates that were slaughtered. No, fate…or perhaps the force…was working against the mandos that day and the few villagers were slain, those that weren’t slain and couldn’t fight opted to run, those that couldn’t run, opted to kill themselves, and those that didn’t know to (or wish to) do any of the above were taken as slaves for trade or taken…in other ways. Ca’tra, now orphaned, was taken by the pirates for sale, and sell she did. At the age of three the pirate crew had managed to find their way to Orvax IV to sell the girl and what few others they had off at the slave fair.
It was here that the high spirited little girl was seen trying to fight off one of her pirate captors by a sharply dressed older gentleman (he seemed to be a businessman of some kind) accompanied by, what looked to be, a doctor and a body guard (or perhaps a mercenary, it was difficult to tell sometimes). After the girl’s repeated attempts to fight off the rodian man, the businessman and his companions approached the small cage the rodian was attempting to wrangle the little girl in. A deal was swiftly struck between the pirate captain and the gentleman, who asked that the little girl NOT be chipped as he would be freeing her anyway. Flummoxed, the captain had agreed (he’d gotten his money already anyway) and allowed the man to try and bring the girl out. Ca’tra, frightened and confused, kept her distance from the strange man in the nice suit and the woman in the white coat, but the rough man with the big gun and the weather worn clothes didn’t bother her in the least. Quite the opposite in fact, as she connected the manner of dress, weapon, and stoic demeanor with her father and her people. She willingly followed him out of the cage, even tugging on his pants slightly to be picked up. With a nod of his head, the businessman approved and the rugged man picked up and carried the little girl back to their ship. It took a while to get to Ralltiir, which seemed to be a blessing for the underfed and, since her capture, slightly skittish little girl. It allowed her to calm down slightly and eat her fill, regaining her normal strength back.
Once the group DID reach Ralltiir, the little girl found herself in the company of quite a few other children of her own age or just the year above. Uncertain what to think of the new situation, not to mention the stark white walls, polished tile floors, shiny metal tables, and lots and lots of strange looking gadgets. Having come from a fairly sparsely populated planet, the ad’ika just didn’t know what to make of things and so she remained fairly quiet, finding a seat beside another child who seemed just about as quiet as herself. Turned out his name was Riekan…not that it would matter much by the end of the week anyway. No sooner had she told him her name and fallen silent again than people in white coats herded the children into individual rooms to eat and go to sleep. The next day heralded the beginning of a battery of tests. Blood, physical, mental, emotional, intelligence…you name it, they tested it to get her every nuance down to a T on their systems. Oddly enough it was, in fact, down to a T…Tango to be exact. Though they didn’t so much as tell Ca’tra this, already she had been issued a serial number and code name “Tango” in the facility’s files. Food was issued at the end of the day and then it was time for the poked, prodded, and generally harassed little girl to go to sleep.
Morning came early and once again the pokey, nosey, annoyingly tense people in the white coats came back, hooked up her already in place IV to a drip and wheeled her away, still in bed and very confused and frightened. Terrified, she watched the rectangular lights on the ceiling pass by above her as they maneuvered her bed along the corridors, terrified she passed through double doors that hissed open and shut, and terrified she found herself in a very sterile room with many shiny, sharp and pointy looking objects laid pristinely out on small tables that were dispersed between beeping and blinking machines which they proceeded to hook her up to so they flashed, blinked, and beeped even more as they went about their duty measuring her vitals. A particularly pretty lady, from what the horror stricken Ca’tra could see behind the surgical mask anyway, hooked a syringe into the IV and it was off to sleepy land for Ca’tra…permanently.
Contrary to what that may have sounded like, they didn’t kill the little girl…not exactly anyway…they had just put her to sleep. They had paid far too much for the little mando slave girl to just go off and kill her after all. No, what they did was, in some ways, far worse than killing her…through hours of painstaking surgery and delicate work, the team of doctors and nurses implanted an emotion suppression chip designated RELIC (Reactive Emotion StabiLizing InterfaCe). Along with this pleasant little gift, the team was kind enough to wipe all of the girl’s memories except for what she needed to live day to day. How to eat, drink, use the bathroom, walk, talk….all of THOSE memories they kept…no, it was the precious little things like her family, her home, her NAME that they erased…things that most normal sentients take for granted. By doing this, the team had just effectively killed Ca’tra Yustapir, and the little shell that they had just brought into the world was dubbed “Tango.”
The RELIC chips took well to their new hosts, and the children were set to begin their training. Schooling was, at this point, a priority. Of course the children they had brought to their facility would need to be taught to read, write, solve math problems, know something of science, and learn a great deal about history…if only to be able to perform at standard levels to keep up the appearance of being a “normal” person. Besides, the team working with the young assassins in training didn’t want their precious little darlings to be stupid…oh no, far from it…they were supposed to be perfect. The best teachers were brought in to teach the students the basics, their place of learning large classrooms in the facility’s upper portion. When they weren’t learning the basics, they were being put through physical training, when they weren’t being put through physical training outside, they were studying weapons handling beneath the facility, and if it wasn’t one of those things…it was eating, studying or sleeping.
Tango fell into this routine easily. It seemed most of the children did, but some still seemed a bit awkward in their skins. The little girl, however, threw herself into studies easily and more than a little willingly. Even with the RELIC chip she had a drive for learning. During study and eating times (which to her were also study times), the girl had grown accustomed to speaking to a boy named Victor. He was quite adept at weapons training that involved assembly and disassembly of long ranged weapons, while she found herself most proficient with blades and martial arts. Noticing this, she suggested that they study together so that they might both benefit from the other’s strengths.
During physicals, the doctors were swift to notice that the girl’s curiosity seemed exceptional during such times. Tango often asked a wide variety of questions about what different medical instruments were, how, and why they were used. She obviously wanted to learn more and so, seeing the opportunity, the doctors gave the little girl a book on anatomy and physiology…one she promptly buried herself in. Soon enough the little girl was able to start naming off muscles the doctors would poke at to quiz her during physicals and keep the little girl from prying questions in her seemingly boundless curiosity of the medical field.
Tango was not so dissimilar in routine to the other children growing up around her. She had been taught to read and write, mathematics, science, history, physical fitness…all the formal education a child would be expected to learn. This wasn’t to say that learning was ‘normal’ for them, they learned extremely swiftly, not to mention they had less formal training such as weaponry, strategy, obstacle courses, slicing/hacking, mechanics, and various languages to boot. As they got older, the classes became more specific…the children were sent off with various teachers who specialized in the areas the various “students” seemed to excel in. Delta, another boy she’d taken to studying with, specialized in explosives…Victor in slicing and hacking….Tango in medical and, perhaps not surprisingly, language (after all, her parents had been teaching her basic and mando’a when she was young, though she had no way of remembering that fact…and they had allowed her to retain what little of both languages she knew).
These weren’t the only changes going on, however. The girl, like her counterparts, started developing “new” body parts…ones she shouldn’t have started developing for a few more years. With the ‘miracle’ of modern medicine, however, she (like the others) started puberty early…and all the wonders that brought. Thanks to the RELIC chip, emotions stayed under strict control and (once they were taught about this frustrating thing called puberty and had a year or so to become used to it) the girls were given another wonderful drug that effectively rid them of the less…pleasant…effects of this time of their lives (so long as it was kept in their system anyway).
Learning to work around her new body was far from comfortable for the young woman, and she found that she now had to fight and run and move with a different weight distribution. Unfortunately, their ‘teachers’ had no sympathy for the plight of the young and gangly teens and preteens. They were driven to perform at top standards, and so they did. Each found their own way to cope with the new limitations and capabilities of their lengthening bodies, and Tango was no different.
“Leisure” time was now spent practicing cooking, studying survival guides, honing their skills in their respective areas of expertise, studying languages and other skills that would help in their cover as what they now “knew” they were being trained for…covert military operations. Music, language, cooking and medical techniques…these were the things that Tango sought to excel in for her cover…and of course, what good assassin didn’t know how to dance and blend in with the crème de la crème? What she tried her hand at, she strove to excel in…and when she did, Tango managed something akin to pride (albeit a rather stoic and flat sense of pride).
At 15, like all the others, Tango was taken in for yet another round of time consuming and excruciatingly frustrating and painful procedures that left them laid up for near a month with regular kolto treatments. Muscles grew stronger, ribs were removed, joints were replaced, contacts were implanted (the latter ending in Tango’s eyes being a vibrant violet color), everything that could be done to ensure their bodies could perform at optimal levels for the longest period of time was seen to. The end of the month saw the new assassins training harder than ever to become used to their new reflexes, strength, durability, and flexibility.
Come the age of 16, Tango found herself herded into a shuttle with the other assassins and shipped off to Dxun. On the way there, they were stripped of their armor and given nothing but a few feet of rope and a basic combat knife. Tango, given a weapon she easily knew how to use, was unperturbed…or would have been if she’d been able to feel the opposite emotions. Upon reaching orbit of the moon, they were all informed that they would have to survive with nothing but these tools for a full month when those still alive would be picked up and taken back to Green Meadows. As the first assassin (Alpha) was dropped to the planet below, Tango quietly waited her turn, already formulating a plan of attack. She’d done a fair bit of studying of the planet (for some reason, one of the doctors had insisted upon it saying something about family, and had even given her a book about it when she was younger), and so she was well prepared for what she would find below. The group dwindled down as they dropped off Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo, Foxtrot, so on down the line until they reached her. Standing, she nodded to Victor…she had already spoken to him about meeting up if they could since, obviously, two assassins were better than one and they would have a higher chance of survival that way. Heading to the ramp, she lept out unconcernedly to the treetops below. It didn’t take long for the young woman to get moving; she didn’t want to be caught here by animals or scavengers who might have been attracted by the ship that had just dropped her off.
The first days on Dxun were the worst part for the young woman. Finding water was fairly simple…it rained a decent amount, but a stable source of it was far less easy to find. She resorted to tracking. The prints of animals weren’t easily visible in the undergrowth…especially not from the tree branches she chose to reside in to keep away from the larger predators…but she managed to find a game trail that led her (eventually) to a stream that would serve a double purpose. All animals needed water, and she needed food as well…so sticking close by, she could get both food and water. This wouldn’t get her any closer to finding Victor, unfortunately, so she settled in for the evening after building a slipknot loop in the rope she had and setting it as a trap. Much to her dismay, Tango woke to find nothing but an empty trap and a growling stomach. With a sigh, she recovered her rope and went about her way in the direction she’d seen the drop ship go…if she followed the path it had been going, it was likely she would find Victor. The teen had been careful to take note of direction changes (or lack thereof) of the drop ship they’d been sent down to the planet from, and from what she’d been able to tell, there had been little deviation from a straight line course. This made things considerably easier for her.
As she worked her way through the branches of the trees, Tango managed to find a fruit tree who’s fruit didn’t need to be cooked clear of toxins, and had herself a half decent meal. After a full day of moving, she settled in for the night once more. This night it rained…and it rained hard. Try as she might, there was little to no good cover to be found in the canopy, and she didn’t dare sleep on the ground…especially in this weather. The next morning was soggy and rain filled as well, and found the young would-be assassin dripping and bedraggled as she moved onward, passing the remains of a hasty camp. Shimmying down the tree she’d been in, Tango made fast work of scouring the camp for useful items. There wasn’t much, but she did find some heavy canvas cloth (which she rolled up to carry off), a few more feet of rope (a much heavier gauge than what she had), and a forgotten old medi-kit. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for her, and soon she was back in the trees once more. The sturdy canvas was cut to size and a hole made in it for her head. This, at least, would help keep the rain off of her, and the rest she could keep for later use…but for now it worked as a sack for the medi-kit, thick rope, and the few extra fruits she’d managed to gather.
By noon, she was feeling hunger gnawing at her once more, but with no sign of another fruit tree, and no dry wood to make a fire, there was little point in eating, or even trying to hunt. That evening she finally managed to meet up with Victor just as the sun was setting below the clouds. It had finally stopped raining for long enough for Victor to lead Tango to a small hallow in the base of a large tree that he’d found that day. It wasn’t near water, and there wasn’t really anything to be done about dry wood to cook meat or ward away animals, but it was shelter and it was relatively well hidden. It would do for the night, and so they stayed there that night. The next day Tango pointed out a fresh game trail in the mud and they followed it to the clear spring and pond that animals in that area used. A craggy cliff face near by became their shelter when, upon closer inspection, a decently large cave was discovered.
The next several weeks were far easier, and the two almost fell into a routine. Wood would be gathered to dry out in the cave, traps were fashioned with the rope they had, excursions into the jungle would be made to gather fruit or search for useful items from abandoned camp sites, animals would be hunted for food, and water would be collected. Between the two assassins, they were a formidable team against the wilds around them and even if they were injured, Tango was good enough at patching up what few injuries they did get with the medi-kit. Eventually the time came for the pick up and the two were retrieved along with the others and taken back to Green Meadows to recover. Their training was officially complete, and they were now ready to be assigned missions.
The next years were quite eventful, despite the fact that Tango found herself not remembering quite large chunks of those years. Her superiors were quite pleased by the exceptional ways Tango performed and executed her missions. She was surprisingly subtle, often able to play the coy, pretty, face that so few suspected. She had learned skills other assassins had neglected such as (music and dance) that allowed her to fit in flawlessly with the more well to do crowds and seduce her way into her marks arms. With a well placed dagger, or a subtle poison, she was in and out with no one the wiser until after all was said and done and she was long gone. With Victor working as her partner more often than not, it was even easier for the two to blend in as ‘just another couple’ and avoid detection, only to slice into security systems and gain their target.
If and when things got sticky, which they invariably did at times, the short range of Tango’s preferred fighting style, and the long range of Victor’s allowed the two to compliment each other perfectly. Had any that saw them fight together been left alive, they surely would have said that the two were performing a deadly sort of dance…unluckily for any who saw them fight, no one was ever left alive. Once their missions were complete, they returned home to Green Meadows and (unbeknownst to them) had their memories wiped by the medical team under the ruse of a physical exam.
It wasn’t until nearly a month back that things changed for the assassins. During a routine check up, Dr. Myri Denive noticed something strange about the two and decided to do a little digging of her own. For Tango it was just another day and another check up…all routine and bland, just as it was supposed to be. That evening, however, found Victor in her room waking her up looking and acting oddly. Watching him silently as he tried to speak to her semi-“normally,” Tango suggested that he see the medical team because he was acting oddly. He had nodded and left immediately, and she thought nothing more of it. Over the next few days she continued to watch her partner closely, and though he seemed a bit off, she chalked it up to him recovering from something and that the doctors were doing their jobs.
From behind dulled lavender eyes, Tango watched as Alpha, Delta, Echo, Victor, Oscar and Uniform began speaking more and more. Opting to sit back and observe, Tango noted the oddities in these members of the team were all similar to Victor’s, or variations of them. She approached Victor about the conversations first…being her partner, he was the one she thought to speak to before the others. Watching him like a hawk, it wasn’t overly difficult to tell that he was lying to her when he said that they were about training sessions. Remaining silent about his lie, she simply nodded and decided to move on…something was most definitely wrong with Victor. The next person she approached was Delta, another who she had gone on various missions with and studied with quite a lot. His reply was far more acceptable to the young woman, and the lie was so close to the truth that it was indiscernible to her. When asked about their conversations, Delta responded that it was about an upcoming mission that was to not to be spoken about with any others, and that he was sorry but that included her. Taking this as the truth, Tango mentioned to Delta the troubles Victor had been having and that he should be wary of the man’s allegiance. With that, she had turned and gone to bed.
It had been just over a week since Victor had entered her room acting oddly, and little more had changed since then. She and Victor had just returned from a mission, and they were scheduled to have their exam two days from then. It wasn’t until that evening, that Tango herself noticed something odd. On this particular evening, she woke with a start and drenched in sweat, her breathing fast and an odd sensation she couldn’t explain flooding through her at the odd images her mind had shown her during her sleep. She knew these images to be a ‘dream’ only by having read about them otherwise she likely wouldn’t have known just what it was that had caused this strange and unpleasant reaction in her. Getting up, she headed to the door and out into the hall, her first though to get her self checked…her second, to find Victor. As it turned out, she managed to do neither, but instead found Delta wandering down the hall with a rather large bundle of explosives. Frightened (though she didn’t connect the word to what she was feeling yet), Tango backed against the wall in the guise of allowing him through before asking what he was doing with the explosives. Apparently he’d been “working” on the weapon’s explosive capability and was “returning it” to the locker. When she pointed out that it was, in fact, in the opposite direction, there was a tense moment where she felt like running.
Delta seemed to notice.
After a terrifying conversation, the young woman excused herself and hurried down the hall toward the medical ward…but she never actually went in. Instead, she found herself sick in the bathroom.
The next day was a nerve wracking as the night before, and luckily for the duo (Tango especially) they were excused from training until their physical…she could hold out for one more day. That night Victor came into her room once more and told her to get all of her gear…swiftly. Eyes wide, she nodded and obediently did what she was told. Not more than three minutes later she was dressed and packed as she would be for any mission. Frightened, she was nearly dragged along by Victor as an explosion rocked the facility. She didn’t know it yet, but they were escaping.
As they ran, Victor informed her about everything that he knew, what he’d found in the data banks, about how they were assassins and not part of any military organization, how they had been controlled by a chip that shut down their emotions, and that this was their chance to get away from this all. It wasn’t long after the explosion that they reached the hangar bay. She noted Delta and Echo, Alpha, Oscar, Uniform, they were all there and running for their transport of choice or out into the night outside. Even more terrified as she heard the guards coming up behind them, Victor shoved her in the direction of one of the small transports they often used to go out on missions…it was, actually, the one they had only recently used. Climbing in and starting up the flight sequence, she shouted for Victor to hurry. He and Alpha were fighting off the guards that were threatening them and Tango, the only emotion she knew thus far being fear, was left on the sidelines, too terrified to help. Delta and Echo took off, Oscar was gone, Uniform also had gotten away, and she was frozen…only Victor’s voice shook her out of her frozen state long enough to do as he asked: get out, get away. Now confused and still terrified, she did as she was told and took off after Delta and Echo into the night sky. The last thing she saw was Victor being shot once and staggering backward before falling under a barrage of blaster bolts and smoke.
Tango assumed the worst….Victor, and maybe even Alpha, had died so that they could be free…and now, now she was alone.
Alone and utterly terrified.
Password: vornskr
RP Sample:
She had left the transport behind a while ago, she wasn't sure how long ago it was now. Several days she supposed. Now she was slinking about in the shadows of this city with no where to go, and no one she knew, and not a clue as to what to do next with her life. Tango felt, for the first time in her life (at least that she could remember), absolutely lost. Victor was gone, shot down at the Green Meadows, her partner...the one she'd been working with for all these years apparently. Since they had both been alive before all this happened, they'd obviously kept each other out of trouble, and the memories of the only mission she could recall proved that well enough.
A strange new liquidy warmth crept down her face from her eyes, and if she'd not known what tears were, the young woman might have been frightened that something was wrong with her. Tango wiped some of the tears away from her slightly dirty face and looked at them as they glistened on her finger under the moonlight. Why was it people cried? Happiness, sadness, sometimes fear...she didn't think she was happy, and she wasn't afraid (she KNEW that emotion)...that left sadness.
Tango walked for what felt like hours along the dirty roads until she was just past the edges of the small city. She had just about passed by a secluded grove of trees on the outskirts when she paused and headed into the small grove. It had just about started raining again and she sighed heavily as she scrambled up one of the trees and curled into herself, settling her ruck sack into the branches beside her and burying her face in her hands and knees. No, she hadn't been directly responsible for the fate of Victor, but she felt it acutely. It nearly caused her physical pain the knowledge hurt so badly. The deep rumble of thunder above her head made the lavender eyed young woman jump and nearly topple out of the tree she had perched herself in.
Barely catching herself, another flash of light streaked across the sky, illuminating her almost wild looking features as wide eyes gazed about her. Startled by the next roll of thunder directly over head, she scrambled down from the tree, grabbing her duffel along the way and scampered swiftly toward the near by cliffs in search of some kind of shelter from the storm. There wasn't much to be had except for a small outcropping of rock that would keep whatever rain there might be that night from falling directly on her...it would do for the night, however. Pulling out her worn old canvas serape rain slick, she curled up and cried.
Needless to say the jumpy young lady didn't get much sleep that night between the storm and her own thoughts, but morning would come soon enough and she would once more be on her way, feeling just as aimless as ever.
Birth Name: Ca’tra Yustapir (KAH-tra YOOST-ah-PEER Mando’a Translation: Night-sky River)
Race: Human
Age: 25
Height: 5’ 4”
Weight: 125 lbs
Birth place: Dxun
Appearance:
For the most part, at first glance anyway, Tango appears to be your typical young woman in her early 20s. With chocolate brown hair reaching to the bottom of her shoulder blades and cut into layers, a trim and muscular athletic form, decent curves, and a pretty face with full lips and smooth skin, Tango is rather easy on the eyes. Speaking of eyes, that’s where the oddities begin, though they're really the only ones you can SEE. Due to her surgical implants her eyes are an unusual color of lavender, keen and intelligent.
When seen in public, the young woman adopts one of two appearances:
1) the casually dressed civilian: Often seen in boots, pants, a top and a leather jacket with a utility belt, her hair is almost always down or arranged into a loose braid or ponytail. This is the way she is typically seen.
2) the silent assassin: Tango armor Link One set of black and lavender armor that can be layered to adapt to the environment around her, or the situation at hand. “Body blades” snap into bracers on her forearms to make the most use out of her hand to hand/martial arts fighting style. Sometimes she is seen with various throwing knives strapped about her body or a plain brown canvas ‘serape’ covering that folds over her shoulders and clasps at the neck to hide the armor below and provide extra protection from the elements (it is the canvas serape she created on Dxun...with a few modifications). Her hair is often done up with a clip and pins to keep it out of her way. She is, however, rarely seen in her armor any longer.
((Previously)) When seen around the base Tango can often be seen in these two things:
1) Company PT clothing: the standard Green Meadows PT clothing that is given to all of the “Merchants of Death” assassins (women’s cut) to perform their daily training in: shorts and a short sleeve shirt for spring and summer, and pants and a long sleeve shirt for fall and winter. Her hair would be tied back, pinned up, or braided to keep out of her face.
2) Daily: Often seen studying, eating, lounging (what little of it is allowed), and practically everything else in the most simple FULL set of armor ((the far left image of the three sets)) without her blades, knives, or the heavier strapped on top armor that the blades hook into, gloves or gauntlets. Her hair might be back, up, or down depending on her tastes that day or how much work she wishes to put into it….whichever way, it will be a simple style.
Personality:
((current)) Since her RELIC chip began to degrade, Tango is most often a flight not fight woman. Timid and paranoid of being caught, she prefers the shadows and night time to move about. Fear is her number one emotion, sadness and confusion coming in close second to it. There are times when, seemingly out of the blue, she will start crying, this is mainly due to her guilt at Victor's death for her freedom, and Alpha's possible death. She still holds some small hope that Alpha is still alive and managed to get away, but she feels that (because of what she saw) there is little to no hope that Victor managed to survive. She has little knowledge of other emotions since her RELIC chip is still semi-functional, and so it inhibits some of her emotions to this day.
Despite her timidity, Tango shows great potential to be a strong minded and capable individual if given the proper encouragement. There are still times, however, when she is purely unemotional and take control...mainly when her life is in irrefutable danger, but even then it sometimes takes something to snap her out of her fear to become that way once more.
Profession: Ex-Assassin
Skills: Green Meadows Assassin Training
Specialties:
Aikido
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 7
Intelligence: 8
Speed: 8
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 8
Melee Weapons: 5
Ranged Weapons: 4
Specialized Combat Skill: 8
Hand to Hand (with adaptation for “body blades” or really ANY short range blades)
Specialized Non-Combat Skill: 8
Medical Training (Medic)
Alignment: 0
Ship Name: The Vesper
Bio:
Birth
Age: Birth -3
Age: Birth -3
Ca’tra Yustapir was born like any other human child…she had a mother, she had a father, they had loved each other (if only for a little while), her parents were mandalorian and it seemed that she would have everything going for her. She was a growing little girl with an abundance of energy and a fiery spirit to boot. Her parents were often heard telling the little girl she had Mandokar, and that they hoped she would keep it. At two she was already showing signs of being an agile and wiry little nipper, her crawling and walking taking her throughout the small house swiftly and quietly. The moon of Dxun was a harsh environment however, even for adults, so it was little surprise when her father came home injured one day from hunting. It made things difficult for the little family, who’s livelihood came from selling the meat, skins, tusks, and whatever else could be gotten from hunting out in the jungles. This didn’t stop Ca’tra, however. If anything the little girl thrived because of it and showed a keen sense of curiosity about the injury. Chuckling, her father had let her play with the gauze while he’d applied the cleaning fluid and kolto. When he’d taken it from her to wrap the injury, the little girl had pouted until he’d allowed her to ‘help’ him. For such a young girl, she had looked awfully proud to have helped her buir.
By that time she was two, and it seemed the galaxy was right…but for little Ca’tra, the galaxy would never be ‘right’ as most people knew it. A band of pirates (who also, incidentally, doubled as slavers) had seen fit to seek refuge near the little girl’s home. This wouldn’t have been such an issue if it hadn’t been for the fact that the crew seemed determined to chase away or poach every living thing within ten miles of them. For the already struggling family, this was the nail in the coffin. Horun (Ca’tra’s father) and several others in the small village went to face down the pirates when they came into it for a few drinks. Needless to say it was a slaughter…but, oddly enough, it wasn’t the pirates that were slaughtered. No, fate…or perhaps the force…was working against the mandos that day and the few villagers were slain, those that weren’t slain and couldn’t fight opted to run, those that couldn’t run, opted to kill themselves, and those that didn’t know to (or wish to) do any of the above were taken as slaves for trade or taken…in other ways. Ca’tra, now orphaned, was taken by the pirates for sale, and sell she did. At the age of three the pirate crew had managed to find their way to Orvax IV to sell the girl and what few others they had off at the slave fair.
It was here that the high spirited little girl was seen trying to fight off one of her pirate captors by a sharply dressed older gentleman (he seemed to be a businessman of some kind) accompanied by, what looked to be, a doctor and a body guard (or perhaps a mercenary, it was difficult to tell sometimes). After the girl’s repeated attempts to fight off the rodian man, the businessman and his companions approached the small cage the rodian was attempting to wrangle the little girl in. A deal was swiftly struck between the pirate captain and the gentleman, who asked that the little girl NOT be chipped as he would be freeing her anyway. Flummoxed, the captain had agreed (he’d gotten his money already anyway) and allowed the man to try and bring the girl out. Ca’tra, frightened and confused, kept her distance from the strange man in the nice suit and the woman in the white coat, but the rough man with the big gun and the weather worn clothes didn’t bother her in the least. Quite the opposite in fact, as she connected the manner of dress, weapon, and stoic demeanor with her father and her people. She willingly followed him out of the cage, even tugging on his pants slightly to be picked up. With a nod of his head, the businessman approved and the rugged man picked up and carried the little girl back to their ship. It took a while to get to Ralltiir, which seemed to be a blessing for the underfed and, since her capture, slightly skittish little girl. It allowed her to calm down slightly and eat her fill, regaining her normal strength back.
Once the group DID reach Ralltiir, the little girl found herself in the company of quite a few other children of her own age or just the year above. Uncertain what to think of the new situation, not to mention the stark white walls, polished tile floors, shiny metal tables, and lots and lots of strange looking gadgets. Having come from a fairly sparsely populated planet, the ad’ika just didn’t know what to make of things and so she remained fairly quiet, finding a seat beside another child who seemed just about as quiet as herself. Turned out his name was Riekan…not that it would matter much by the end of the week anyway. No sooner had she told him her name and fallen silent again than people in white coats herded the children into individual rooms to eat and go to sleep. The next day heralded the beginning of a battery of tests. Blood, physical, mental, emotional, intelligence…you name it, they tested it to get her every nuance down to a T on their systems. Oddly enough it was, in fact, down to a T…Tango to be exact. Though they didn’t so much as tell Ca’tra this, already she had been issued a serial number and code name “Tango” in the facility’s files. Food was issued at the end of the day and then it was time for the poked, prodded, and generally harassed little girl to go to sleep.
Morning came early and once again the pokey, nosey, annoyingly tense people in the white coats came back, hooked up her already in place IV to a drip and wheeled her away, still in bed and very confused and frightened. Terrified, she watched the rectangular lights on the ceiling pass by above her as they maneuvered her bed along the corridors, terrified she passed through double doors that hissed open and shut, and terrified she found herself in a very sterile room with many shiny, sharp and pointy looking objects laid pristinely out on small tables that were dispersed between beeping and blinking machines which they proceeded to hook her up to so they flashed, blinked, and beeped even more as they went about their duty measuring her vitals. A particularly pretty lady, from what the horror stricken Ca’tra could see behind the surgical mask anyway, hooked a syringe into the IV and it was off to sleepy land for Ca’tra…permanently.
Contrary to what that may have sounded like, they didn’t kill the little girl…not exactly anyway…they had just put her to sleep. They had paid far too much for the little mando slave girl to just go off and kill her after all. No, what they did was, in some ways, far worse than killing her…through hours of painstaking surgery and delicate work, the team of doctors and nurses implanted an emotion suppression chip designated RELIC (Reactive Emotion StabiLizing InterfaCe). Along with this pleasant little gift, the team was kind enough to wipe all of the girl’s memories except for what she needed to live day to day. How to eat, drink, use the bathroom, walk, talk….all of THOSE memories they kept…no, it was the precious little things like her family, her home, her NAME that they erased…things that most normal sentients take for granted. By doing this, the team had just effectively killed Ca’tra Yustapir, and the little shell that they had just brought into the world was dubbed “Tango.”
Training Begins
Age: 3-9
Age: 3-9
The RELIC chips took well to their new hosts, and the children were set to begin their training. Schooling was, at this point, a priority. Of course the children they had brought to their facility would need to be taught to read, write, solve math problems, know something of science, and learn a great deal about history…if only to be able to perform at standard levels to keep up the appearance of being a “normal” person. Besides, the team working with the young assassins in training didn’t want their precious little darlings to be stupid…oh no, far from it…they were supposed to be perfect. The best teachers were brought in to teach the students the basics, their place of learning large classrooms in the facility’s upper portion. When they weren’t learning the basics, they were being put through physical training, when they weren’t being put through physical training outside, they were studying weapons handling beneath the facility, and if it wasn’t one of those things…it was eating, studying or sleeping.
Tango fell into this routine easily. It seemed most of the children did, but some still seemed a bit awkward in their skins. The little girl, however, threw herself into studies easily and more than a little willingly. Even with the RELIC chip she had a drive for learning. During study and eating times (which to her were also study times), the girl had grown accustomed to speaking to a boy named Victor. He was quite adept at weapons training that involved assembly and disassembly of long ranged weapons, while she found herself most proficient with blades and martial arts. Noticing this, she suggested that they study together so that they might both benefit from the other’s strengths.
During physicals, the doctors were swift to notice that the girl’s curiosity seemed exceptional during such times. Tango often asked a wide variety of questions about what different medical instruments were, how, and why they were used. She obviously wanted to learn more and so, seeing the opportunity, the doctors gave the little girl a book on anatomy and physiology…one she promptly buried herself in. Soon enough the little girl was able to start naming off muscles the doctors would poke at to quiz her during physicals and keep the little girl from prying questions in her seemingly boundless curiosity of the medical field.
New Changes
Age: 10-15
Age: 10-15
Tango was not so dissimilar in routine to the other children growing up around her. She had been taught to read and write, mathematics, science, history, physical fitness…all the formal education a child would be expected to learn. This wasn’t to say that learning was ‘normal’ for them, they learned extremely swiftly, not to mention they had less formal training such as weaponry, strategy, obstacle courses, slicing/hacking, mechanics, and various languages to boot. As they got older, the classes became more specific…the children were sent off with various teachers who specialized in the areas the various “students” seemed to excel in. Delta, another boy she’d taken to studying with, specialized in explosives…Victor in slicing and hacking….Tango in medical and, perhaps not surprisingly, language (after all, her parents had been teaching her basic and mando’a when she was young, though she had no way of remembering that fact…and they had allowed her to retain what little of both languages she knew).
These weren’t the only changes going on, however. The girl, like her counterparts, started developing “new” body parts…ones she shouldn’t have started developing for a few more years. With the ‘miracle’ of modern medicine, however, she (like the others) started puberty early…and all the wonders that brought. Thanks to the RELIC chip, emotions stayed under strict control and (once they were taught about this frustrating thing called puberty and had a year or so to become used to it) the girls were given another wonderful drug that effectively rid them of the less…pleasant…effects of this time of their lives (so long as it was kept in their system anyway).
Learning to work around her new body was far from comfortable for the young woman, and she found that she now had to fight and run and move with a different weight distribution. Unfortunately, their ‘teachers’ had no sympathy for the plight of the young and gangly teens and preteens. They were driven to perform at top standards, and so they did. Each found their own way to cope with the new limitations and capabilities of their lengthening bodies, and Tango was no different.
“Leisure” time was now spent practicing cooking, studying survival guides, honing their skills in their respective areas of expertise, studying languages and other skills that would help in their cover as what they now “knew” they were being trained for…covert military operations. Music, language, cooking and medical techniques…these were the things that Tango sought to excel in for her cover…and of course, what good assassin didn’t know how to dance and blend in with the crème de la crème? What she tried her hand at, she strove to excel in…and when she did, Tango managed something akin to pride (albeit a rather stoic and flat sense of pride).
At 15, like all the others, Tango was taken in for yet another round of time consuming and excruciatingly frustrating and painful procedures that left them laid up for near a month with regular kolto treatments. Muscles grew stronger, ribs were removed, joints were replaced, contacts were implanted (the latter ending in Tango’s eyes being a vibrant violet color), everything that could be done to ensure their bodies could perform at optimal levels for the longest period of time was seen to. The end of the month saw the new assassins training harder than ever to become used to their new reflexes, strength, durability, and flexibility.
Survival of the Cleverest
Age: 16
Age: 16
Come the age of 16, Tango found herself herded into a shuttle with the other assassins and shipped off to Dxun. On the way there, they were stripped of their armor and given nothing but a few feet of rope and a basic combat knife. Tango, given a weapon she easily knew how to use, was unperturbed…or would have been if she’d been able to feel the opposite emotions. Upon reaching orbit of the moon, they were all informed that they would have to survive with nothing but these tools for a full month when those still alive would be picked up and taken back to Green Meadows. As the first assassin (Alpha) was dropped to the planet below, Tango quietly waited her turn, already formulating a plan of attack. She’d done a fair bit of studying of the planet (for some reason, one of the doctors had insisted upon it saying something about family, and had even given her a book about it when she was younger), and so she was well prepared for what she would find below. The group dwindled down as they dropped off Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo, Foxtrot, so on down the line until they reached her. Standing, she nodded to Victor…she had already spoken to him about meeting up if they could since, obviously, two assassins were better than one and they would have a higher chance of survival that way. Heading to the ramp, she lept out unconcernedly to the treetops below. It didn’t take long for the young woman to get moving; she didn’t want to be caught here by animals or scavengers who might have been attracted by the ship that had just dropped her off.
The first days on Dxun were the worst part for the young woman. Finding water was fairly simple…it rained a decent amount, but a stable source of it was far less easy to find. She resorted to tracking. The prints of animals weren’t easily visible in the undergrowth…especially not from the tree branches she chose to reside in to keep away from the larger predators…but she managed to find a game trail that led her (eventually) to a stream that would serve a double purpose. All animals needed water, and she needed food as well…so sticking close by, she could get both food and water. This wouldn’t get her any closer to finding Victor, unfortunately, so she settled in for the evening after building a slipknot loop in the rope she had and setting it as a trap. Much to her dismay, Tango woke to find nothing but an empty trap and a growling stomach. With a sigh, she recovered her rope and went about her way in the direction she’d seen the drop ship go…if she followed the path it had been going, it was likely she would find Victor. The teen had been careful to take note of direction changes (or lack thereof) of the drop ship they’d been sent down to the planet from, and from what she’d been able to tell, there had been little deviation from a straight line course. This made things considerably easier for her.
As she worked her way through the branches of the trees, Tango managed to find a fruit tree who’s fruit didn’t need to be cooked clear of toxins, and had herself a half decent meal. After a full day of moving, she settled in for the night once more. This night it rained…and it rained hard. Try as she might, there was little to no good cover to be found in the canopy, and she didn’t dare sleep on the ground…especially in this weather. The next morning was soggy and rain filled as well, and found the young would-be assassin dripping and bedraggled as she moved onward, passing the remains of a hasty camp. Shimmying down the tree she’d been in, Tango made fast work of scouring the camp for useful items. There wasn’t much, but she did find some heavy canvas cloth (which she rolled up to carry off), a few more feet of rope (a much heavier gauge than what she had), and a forgotten old medi-kit. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for her, and soon she was back in the trees once more. The sturdy canvas was cut to size and a hole made in it for her head. This, at least, would help keep the rain off of her, and the rest she could keep for later use…but for now it worked as a sack for the medi-kit, thick rope, and the few extra fruits she’d managed to gather.
By noon, she was feeling hunger gnawing at her once more, but with no sign of another fruit tree, and no dry wood to make a fire, there was little point in eating, or even trying to hunt. That evening she finally managed to meet up with Victor just as the sun was setting below the clouds. It had finally stopped raining for long enough for Victor to lead Tango to a small hallow in the base of a large tree that he’d found that day. It wasn’t near water, and there wasn’t really anything to be done about dry wood to cook meat or ward away animals, but it was shelter and it was relatively well hidden. It would do for the night, and so they stayed there that night. The next day Tango pointed out a fresh game trail in the mud and they followed it to the clear spring and pond that animals in that area used. A craggy cliff face near by became their shelter when, upon closer inspection, a decently large cave was discovered.
The next several weeks were far easier, and the two almost fell into a routine. Wood would be gathered to dry out in the cave, traps were fashioned with the rope they had, excursions into the jungle would be made to gather fruit or search for useful items from abandoned camp sites, animals would be hunted for food, and water would be collected. Between the two assassins, they were a formidable team against the wilds around them and even if they were injured, Tango was good enough at patching up what few injuries they did get with the medi-kit. Eventually the time came for the pick up and the two were retrieved along with the others and taken back to Green Meadows to recover. Their training was officially complete, and they were now ready to be assigned missions.
Assassin’s Tango
Age: 16-23
Age: 16-23
The next years were quite eventful, despite the fact that Tango found herself not remembering quite large chunks of those years. Her superiors were quite pleased by the exceptional ways Tango performed and executed her missions. She was surprisingly subtle, often able to play the coy, pretty, face that so few suspected. She had learned skills other assassins had neglected such as (music and dance) that allowed her to fit in flawlessly with the more well to do crowds and seduce her way into her marks arms. With a well placed dagger, or a subtle poison, she was in and out with no one the wiser until after all was said and done and she was long gone. With Victor working as her partner more often than not, it was even easier for the two to blend in as ‘just another couple’ and avoid detection, only to slice into security systems and gain their target.
If and when things got sticky, which they invariably did at times, the short range of Tango’s preferred fighting style, and the long range of Victor’s allowed the two to compliment each other perfectly. Had any that saw them fight together been left alive, they surely would have said that the two were performing a deadly sort of dance…unluckily for any who saw them fight, no one was ever left alive. Once their missions were complete, they returned home to Green Meadows and (unbeknownst to them) had their memories wiped by the medical team under the ruse of a physical exam.
It wasn’t until nearly a month back that things changed for the assassins. During a routine check up, Dr. Myri Denive noticed something strange about the two and decided to do a little digging of her own. For Tango it was just another day and another check up…all routine and bland, just as it was supposed to be. That evening, however, found Victor in her room waking her up looking and acting oddly. Watching him silently as he tried to speak to her semi-“normally,” Tango suggested that he see the medical team because he was acting oddly. He had nodded and left immediately, and she thought nothing more of it. Over the next few days she continued to watch her partner closely, and though he seemed a bit off, she chalked it up to him recovering from something and that the doctors were doing their jobs.
From behind dulled lavender eyes, Tango watched as Alpha, Delta, Echo, Victor, Oscar and Uniform began speaking more and more. Opting to sit back and observe, Tango noted the oddities in these members of the team were all similar to Victor’s, or variations of them. She approached Victor about the conversations first…being her partner, he was the one she thought to speak to before the others. Watching him like a hawk, it wasn’t overly difficult to tell that he was lying to her when he said that they were about training sessions. Remaining silent about his lie, she simply nodded and decided to move on…something was most definitely wrong with Victor. The next person she approached was Delta, another who she had gone on various missions with and studied with quite a lot. His reply was far more acceptable to the young woman, and the lie was so close to the truth that it was indiscernible to her. When asked about their conversations, Delta responded that it was about an upcoming mission that was to not to be spoken about with any others, and that he was sorry but that included her. Taking this as the truth, Tango mentioned to Delta the troubles Victor had been having and that he should be wary of the man’s allegiance. With that, she had turned and gone to bed.
It had been just over a week since Victor had entered her room acting oddly, and little more had changed since then. She and Victor had just returned from a mission, and they were scheduled to have their exam two days from then. It wasn’t until that evening, that Tango herself noticed something odd. On this particular evening, she woke with a start and drenched in sweat, her breathing fast and an odd sensation she couldn’t explain flooding through her at the odd images her mind had shown her during her sleep. She knew these images to be a ‘dream’ only by having read about them otherwise she likely wouldn’t have known just what it was that had caused this strange and unpleasant reaction in her. Getting up, she headed to the door and out into the hall, her first though to get her self checked…her second, to find Victor. As it turned out, she managed to do neither, but instead found Delta wandering down the hall with a rather large bundle of explosives. Frightened (though she didn’t connect the word to what she was feeling yet), Tango backed against the wall in the guise of allowing him through before asking what he was doing with the explosives. Apparently he’d been “working” on the weapon’s explosive capability and was “returning it” to the locker. When she pointed out that it was, in fact, in the opposite direction, there was a tense moment where she felt like running.
Delta seemed to notice.
After a terrifying conversation, the young woman excused herself and hurried down the hall toward the medical ward…but she never actually went in. Instead, she found herself sick in the bathroom.
The next day was a nerve wracking as the night before, and luckily for the duo (Tango especially) they were excused from training until their physical…she could hold out for one more day. That night Victor came into her room once more and told her to get all of her gear…swiftly. Eyes wide, she nodded and obediently did what she was told. Not more than three minutes later she was dressed and packed as she would be for any mission. Frightened, she was nearly dragged along by Victor as an explosion rocked the facility. She didn’t know it yet, but they were escaping.
As they ran, Victor informed her about everything that he knew, what he’d found in the data banks, about how they were assassins and not part of any military organization, how they had been controlled by a chip that shut down their emotions, and that this was their chance to get away from this all. It wasn’t long after the explosion that they reached the hangar bay. She noted Delta and Echo, Alpha, Oscar, Uniform, they were all there and running for their transport of choice or out into the night outside. Even more terrified as she heard the guards coming up behind them, Victor shoved her in the direction of one of the small transports they often used to go out on missions…it was, actually, the one they had only recently used. Climbing in and starting up the flight sequence, she shouted for Victor to hurry. He and Alpha were fighting off the guards that were threatening them and Tango, the only emotion she knew thus far being fear, was left on the sidelines, too terrified to help. Delta and Echo took off, Oscar was gone, Uniform also had gotten away, and she was frozen…only Victor’s voice shook her out of her frozen state long enough to do as he asked: get out, get away. Now confused and still terrified, she did as she was told and took off after Delta and Echo into the night sky. The last thing she saw was Victor being shot once and staggering backward before falling under a barrage of blaster bolts and smoke.
Tango assumed the worst….Victor, and maybe even Alpha, had died so that they could be free…and now, now she was alone.
Alone and utterly terrified.
Password: vornskr
RP Sample:
She had left the transport behind a while ago, she wasn't sure how long ago it was now. Several days she supposed. Now she was slinking about in the shadows of this city with no where to go, and no one she knew, and not a clue as to what to do next with her life. Tango felt, for the first time in her life (at least that she could remember), absolutely lost. Victor was gone, shot down at the Green Meadows, her partner...the one she'd been working with for all these years apparently. Since they had both been alive before all this happened, they'd obviously kept each other out of trouble, and the memories of the only mission she could recall proved that well enough.
A strange new liquidy warmth crept down her face from her eyes, and if she'd not known what tears were, the young woman might have been frightened that something was wrong with her. Tango wiped some of the tears away from her slightly dirty face and looked at them as they glistened on her finger under the moonlight. Why was it people cried? Happiness, sadness, sometimes fear...she didn't think she was happy, and she wasn't afraid (she KNEW that emotion)...that left sadness.
Tango walked for what felt like hours along the dirty roads until she was just past the edges of the small city. She had just about passed by a secluded grove of trees on the outskirts when she paused and headed into the small grove. It had just about started raining again and she sighed heavily as she scrambled up one of the trees and curled into herself, settling her ruck sack into the branches beside her and burying her face in her hands and knees. No, she hadn't been directly responsible for the fate of Victor, but she felt it acutely. It nearly caused her physical pain the knowledge hurt so badly. The deep rumble of thunder above her head made the lavender eyed young woman jump and nearly topple out of the tree she had perched herself in.
Barely catching herself, another flash of light streaked across the sky, illuminating her almost wild looking features as wide eyes gazed about her. Startled by the next roll of thunder directly over head, she scrambled down from the tree, grabbing her duffel along the way and scampered swiftly toward the near by cliffs in search of some kind of shelter from the storm. There wasn't much to be had except for a small outcropping of rock that would keep whatever rain there might be that night from falling directly on her...it would do for the night, however. Pulling out her worn old canvas serape rain slick, she curled up and cried.
Needless to say the jumpy young lady didn't get much sleep that night between the storm and her own thoughts, but morning would come soon enough and she would once more be on her way, feeling just as aimless as ever.
