The Desert Rose

Mon, 13 Feb 2006 21:53:13 GMT

I have become rather irritated lately. I hate this cursed snow.

We have not had much lately, but there was this terrible blizzard and now it's everywhere. I hate it. I hate it all. I hate this city, this weather, and above all, I hate my inability to do anything here. I have been reduced from a master assassin to a petty thief, stealing what I need to survive in this city from the crowds of people passing by me in the street. What happened to my teachings, my past? Has this nation really softened me as much as I fear?

Maybe I'm overreacting again. I'm simply letting this weather get to me. If only I had some way to vent my anger and frustration. But, alas, the sun is not as bright during these miserable winter months as I would like. I always have some sand with me, but it isn't nearly as empowering as during the summer or even the spring. All in due time, I suppose. Give me just one day when the sun shines brightly upon me and the beach is not covered in this cursed snow. Give me just one day, and I'll pity whichever creature comes closest to my war zone.

I hate New York.

(OOC) Log!

Fri, 12 Aug 2005 21:31:44 GMT

New in the news:
"This afternoon, an outbreak between two mutant customers ravaged a small café in Midtown.

Although no other customers or employees were severely injured, the building itself was heavily damaged. The café's large front window was shattered, resulting in minor scrapes and cuts to several customers. Tables and chairs in close vicinity to the window were splintered, shattered, or otherwise broken. A further assessment revealed that the café's internal piping system also sustained extensive damage.

Café employee Peggy Wisner, 16, called dispatchers soon after the outbreak began. (The camera switches to footage of a distraught teenage girl, with small cuts and abrasions across her face.) "It was scary," she admits, biting her lip. "One minute all of the customers' drinks started to rattle and shake, and the next, everything just...shattered." She shivers and adds in a disturbed voice, "And then those two /mutants/ started fighting in the street, so I called the cops."

Wisner is currently unavailable for further comment, and has been admitted to Lennox Hill Hospital for trauma and minor cuts suffered during the accident. She did, however, offer descriptions of the two mutants. One is a dark-haired teenage boy with an English accent, who fled the scene by skateboard; the other was a long-haired woman of Egyptian descent, assumedly in her mid-twenty's.

Comments one officer who arrived on the scene, "It was (expletive word deleted) weird, man. One minute the woman was just walking away, the next...she turned into this freaky sand-covered demon thing, with wings and a weird-lookin' head-like some kind of bird, or something." The officer's identity is not being revealed, and prefers to remain anonymous.

Further investigation is underway, and the case has been transferred to NYPD's Mutant Affairs department."

Sabitha is in an obvious hurry today. Her heels click at a rapid pace down the sidewalk, and she dodges other business types with a frustrated frown as they appear right and left. Lunchtime in Midtown is filled with suits of one flavor or another, and Sabby's no exception. Finally, with a dim sigh of relief, she ducks sideways into a sandwhich shop. No time for more, today.

Acting as a stark contrast to the sea of suited professionals, archetypal punk teen pushes his way along the sidewalks in search of two things, food and a cab. Food rears it's head first as he passes a shop with some fairly common lunch snacks. "That'll do." he mumbles in his broad English accent, stopping mid walk to turn and quickly dart into the door.

Sabitha is already in line, fidgeting with the strap of her purse over her shoulder and scanning the menu ahead with hurried eyes. They dip briefly to consider the cashier, and her lips purse in a small frown.

Dave squints a little as he turns his head to stare out into the brightness of outside, stopping in the doorway for a brief moment before having to move, another customer pushing him further into the shop to take up his place in the queue. He turns back again, looking at the selection with the appraisal someone might give an annoying child. "Ah great. Choices." he mumbles, palming his chin for a moment.

Click, click, click. Auset walks into the sandwich shop in her heels and that flashy, revealing outfit of hers--a toupe-colored top and matching mini-skirt. "By the /gods/, I love the sun," she mutters to herself in a pleased tone. She appears to be in a mildly pleasant mood, for once, Blinking and sighing softly ahead at the cash register so seemingly far away--she despises all of these lines!--she shrugs and walks to the end. She can wait, she supposes. She's not in any hurry.

Sabitha is, however, still in a hurry. She sends a brief glance behind her, catching sight of both Dave and Auset with a flick of her eyes. "Really must get out on time so I can eat someplace with..." Her last word is lost in a continued lowering of her muttered tone, and she snaps her gaze forward again. Steps up as the line moves.

Dave stares at the food for a while before slowly turning his head to give a confused, rather isolated gawk at Sabitha. She turns away, as does he, gaze falling back onto the food again. He traces the prices with a finger, stepping forward idly as they all move forward, giving a quick glance back.

Auset makes brief eye contact with Sabitha during that glance, her dark falcon-like eyes studying Sabitha's face before she turns around again. Auset sighs and crosses her arms, turning in line to idly glance outside. The muttered comment is either not heard, or ignored. She catches Dave's glance and follows it over to the food listing, frowning in thought. Ah, yes. Choices.

Sabitha caught both those gazes, and neither one was met with more than a blandly polite smile before she turned away. Now forward again, her shoulders hitch in a protective posture, and one arm loops up over the other, across her chest. Gawking. Indeed. And then, thank heavens, she's one person away from that cashier, and her fingers tap impatiently against her arm.

Dave reaches into his pocket, pulling out a black and grey wallet in similar fasion to his clothing style. He opens a pocket on the side, slowly pulling the zip back to check how much change he has, a finger ruffles around in the coins, turning the top ones over to reveal what's hidden underneath. "Bah." he extends the gesture with a sneer, pulling out a few coins in Sterling. He just looks at one for a moment, staring at the picture of the queen. How unusually patriotic. A sigh. He puts it back in the wallet.

Auset sighs again, as she is still several customers away from that cashier. She repeats her thought in an audible mutter to no one in particular, "I /hate/ all these lines." She begins to tap her own foot impatiently, eyes still scanning the selection list the way a vulture hungrily searches for food. Her stomach growls quietly, and she blinks in spite of herself. She rolls her eyes, leaning to side to see how many people are ahead of her. Too many for her tastes--perhaps she's in more of a hurry than she realized. "Shit," she mutters angrily, the word sounding odd and foreign on her tongue.

Sabitha, being at the front, sees none of these fidgets or motions. Finally, she steps forward and places her order in short, crisp tones. A relieved smile flashes at the last, she states "Thank you," with polite habit, and slips a bit of plastic across the counter before scrawling her signature. And moves on down the line to await her sandwich.

Dave gives another glance back to Auset, raising an eyebrow as she appears to have a overload of impatient energy. He shakes his head and motions in front of him with an open hand, "Go ahead of me if you're in a hurry." a friendly gesture, though it came out with an annoyed sting. Dave raised an eyebrow in expectation.

Auset turns to Dave with a raised eyebrow, eyes now turning to intently study Dave. After a pause she shakes her head and, amazingly, replies without a scowl, "There's no point. I can manage just fine, thank you very much." She clicks her tongue, as if upset at her pointed tone. No need to get upset, she forcedly reminds herself. He was only trying to be nice. In a relatively softer tone, she adds, "But...thanks. I guess." She's not good at this whole 'manners' business.

And there's a sandwich, and there's a Sabby still in a hurry, and so she exits, bag in hand, with a briefly annoyed glance at those behind her as she has to dodge around. Back to the office.

"Yeah. Right." Dave narrows his eyes and shakes his head. That was enough to send him down to the other end of the spectrum, he looks Auset up and down for a second before turning. Hunching forward, he begins ordering his food, ignoring the attempt to reclaim what pleasantry there was left.

Sabitha has left.

Auset is not exactly a pleasant person, as it is. She has no need to be, unless she is trying to use someone; in a city like this, you don't often see people more than once, anyway. Auset throws a scowl in Dave's direction after he turns away, continuing to tap her feet in annoyed impatience. "I /despise/ this city," she mutters aloud with a shake of her head. She waits for her turn to order, glancing once again at the selection menu until she finds something she likes. At least the food is good.

Dave glares at the table when she says that, he turns, aiming a finger in her direction, "-You- despise this city? You're one of the reasons it's such a fucking shithole... -I- despise this place. I hate the dirtiness of it all. It's fucking cold here. I'm fucking stuck here and.. OH... The fucking PEOPLE." he gives her another glare, "At least you can probably -leave-." he was careful with that, adding probably. The amount of times you could be wrong. He turns, wipes his mouth and takes his food, a sandwich and a canned drink. He pays, with a note, silently before taking the last table available in the shop, still fuming a little.

Auset (OOC) grins and facepalms. Hehe...maybe getting these two together wasn't such a great idea. XD
Dave (OOC) says, "You really have no idea how much David hates new york right now."
Auset (OOC) says, "well, I do now. ^_^"
Dave (OOC) says, "That was holding back"
Auset (OOC) grins.
Dave (OOC) didn't want to make a scene :P

Auset's gaze instantly narrows into piercing slits, fighting her strong urge to forcedly slap this foolish child across his foul face. In a venomous tone, she commands in a hiss, "Do not /dare/ blame this city's problems on me." Her face darkens, openly scowling now as she lowers her head and furiously stares at him in a rather intimidating manner. "I am not going anywhere until I am ready, and I will not tolerate your pathetic ramblings," she fuses. She turns around to place her order, the teenage employee at the register wide-eyed as if afraid a fight's about to break out. Auset growls under her breath at the audacity of the people in this city. She /wishes/ she could leave.

Dave ignores Auset completley, he'd said his part and he didn't need to listen to what she said, he would probably turn around and smack her. The fact that she continues does spark a further snarl, however. That, and the angry surge of power that runs through the area. Cups rattle as the water inside them begins to shudder violently.

Dave (OOC) is already banned from 2 cafes.
Auset (OOC) grins.
Dave (OOC) asks, "It'll be a funny journal entry -- > WHY THE HELL CAN'T I GO INTO A CAFE WITHOUT EXPLODERISING THINGS?"
Auset (OOC) asks, "you want to make it 3? :P or should I have Auset tone her temper down a bit?"
Dave (OOC) doesn't care.
Auset (OOC) grins evilly.
Auset (OOC) says, "are you sure? things might get kind of...ugly if she gets pissed off."
Dave (OOC) snickers.

Auset sighs as her sandwich and beverage--hot tea, served in a coffee mug--/finally/ come over the counter. "Thank the /gods/," she mutters to herself, grabbing it and gazing around the room for an empty table. She goes to take a sip from her tea, yet halts halfway to her mouth as she blinks and frowns at the cup. The water is vibrating forcefully, the cup itself threatening to crack if the pressure increases. She gasps in spite of herself and drops the cup, stepping back with a hiss as hot water nearly comes in contact with her skin. She glances up and glares around the room, as if searching for someone to blame. The problem is not isolated, however--many other customers are starting to stare at their glasses, worried expressions on their faces. Her gaze falls on David, a cold glare back on her face. She does not yet make the connection.

People really were quite unperceptive, or so he felt, as they had not yet noticed the whole -everyones drinks are vibrating other than his- clause. He cracked open the can, peered inside and took a gulp before opening his sandwich (spelled properly) and taking a bite. He was also quite calm, in comparison, although his anger still had him rather tense, with a dark ook on his face.

Auset blinks as that realization finally sets in, and then her temper takes a turn for the worse. She storms over to Dave with that dark expression, a glare of deadly intent upon her face. In an icy tone, she accuses him with a pointed finger in his direction, "/You./ This is all /your/ fault. You've ruined my day, and my lunch." She laughs once, completely devoid of any scrap of humor. "And you think /I'm/ the reason this city is falling apart. Hah."

Everything stops, everyone is quiet for a moment as David chews arrogantly before looking up slowly. "Uh... Sorry what?" he raises an eyebrow and places the sandwich down in it's casing, he was calmer now, now that she was the one going intense, "Oh, yes, you're certainly -a- reason. Bad manners. Ignorant outlook on life, right?" dig, dig, dig, "And you think that everyone else is to blame. You're part of the problem. Of course." his English accent only helps to intensify the young mans arrogant approach. He was just insulting her now.

Auset once again fights back the urge to slap him--but realizes, for once, that she doesn't really have to fight the urge. She doesn't really care to, anyway. In a flash, her right hand reaches out and forcefully whips across his face with surprising speed. She clicks her tongue, scowl turning into a mocking smile. "Respect your elders, child."

Auset (OOC) cackles and throws down the gauntlet. XD
Dave (OOC) says, "Aighty"
Auset (OOC) laughs to himself. "Well, this is /one/ way to get RP in with Vincent or Rossi, I guess. ;)"

THRAKATHOOM! Although Dave was taken a little off guard by the throw, even having the power to send him off his chair and onto the floor, his instinctive power surges take control once more. Everything around him suddenly smashes outwards as moisture waves suddenly ring away from the focal point. The table smashes into the glass of the shop, propelled out into someones car. Auset is also thrown back, a sudden full body blow in the direction of the counter.

Screams erupt from most of the cafe's various customers, and many of them dash out of the cafe as fast as their wobbly legs can propel them. Auset does not even have time to blink until she is halfway through the air with an 'oof'; the teenage girl behind the counter taking food orders screams and ducks behind the counter as Auset slams into it forcefully. The Egyptian woman slumps to the floor for a moment before, groaning, stands up on her feet with a hand to her head. She pulls her hand away and grins--grins!--at the blood slowly trickling down her face from a fresh cut. The girl behind the counter crawls over to find the phone, fingers groping for the unit so she can try and call for help. Auset laughs once in a shrill tone, before stating aloud, "Oh, you are going to /regret/ that dearly." Eyes narrow as the multiple jars at her belt open as if on their own, particles of sand seeping out of them and into the air, hovering. With a scream and an extended palm in Dave's direction, the sand instantly forms three baseball-sized projectiles that forcefully fly at his chest with surprising speed.

Currently still in a shock period, David pushes himself onto his knees before being carried backwards through what was left of the smashed glass, sparkling in the sun. He falls away from the first ball, spiining in the air before landing on the roof of a car, through sheer luck managing to land on his hands and feet. He coughs, blood spatters onto the pavement before he yelps, pushing himself into a sideways roll down the bonnet of the car as another sand-ball barely misses him. He lands on the floor with a thud and another yelp. Pushing himself up again, he reaches out a hand in the direction of the window, suddenly, wrapped in water, his skateboard hurtles through the air into the outreached hand. He snaps it out and almost immaediatley spins around, using it as a makeshift shield/baseball bat, smashing the wheel truck into a ball of sand.

Crunch, click, crunch. Auset slowly walks out of the shop over broken glass as she amusedly watches Dave avoid and otherwise defend himseld against her attacks. She glances up and closes her eyes, letting the warmth of the sun flow over her as a malicious smile spreads across her face. She opens them and turns to Dave again, standing in the sun with a fiery expression in her eyes and in that smile. If he is particularly observant, he will notice that somehow, her skin looks just slightly different--brighter, perhaps, as if covered in a thin electric sheen. "Perfect," she murmurs to herself. This is the perfect time for her release of her aggression. She cocks her head to one side, eyes hardened and focused as the sand moves again. From where Dave had avoided and smashed her balls of sand before, the particles stir and leap into the air again, reforming differently. This time, the sand joins together and, with a loud *whoosh*, flies at him in an area-wide blast of sand--mimicking the shape and strength of a miniature desert storm.

Dave takes a breather for a second before looking on in partial awe as a sandstorm approaches, throwing the skateboard in front of him, he cusions the base with water before jumping onto it. Suddenly, before the sandstorm catches up to him, he's away, speeding himself up onto the roof of another car, using his powers to lift him and the skateboard into the air. He narrows his eyes. "Why don't you come over -here-." he makes more handgestures, as if he was physically pulling a rope attached to Auset. As the sandstorm follows his progress, Auset is lifted off her feet -by- her feet, all the liquid in her legs floats upwards, pulling her towards David as he pushes himself onto the ground again, skateboard clattering on the floor to place Dave away from the sandstorm, using the girl as a barrier in between them.

Auset clicks her tongue at herself as she is abruptly pulled into the air by an unknown force. This is becoming more intersting, she thinks to herself calmly. Perhaps she should turn up the heat. Taking full advantage of the twenty-odd years she has devoted to mastering her powers, the sand cloud turns into hundreds of marble-sized balls. With a blink, she presses upon them with her mind as if squeezing each individual ball harder, and hundreds of barely audible *clicks* sound as the sand in each one shifts, each particle rearranging until they are all temporarily hardened. She is in no mood for games right now. The energy from the sun greedily fueling her powers, the projectiles fly at Dave in every possible direction at once, assaulting him with the strength of numbers. Each one would strike with no more force than a hard jab, but with that many on one target, far from painless.

The girl behind the counter has paused in dialing for emergency help on the phone, eyes wide as she watches the fight taking place through the broken window of her boss' store.

Dave watches for a moment before cursing to himself, he brings his arm up, jerking Auset into a muliwheeled somersault in front of the sudden blast of sand balls, either diorientating her or making it rather difficult to make sure she wasn't also taken by the same attack. Letting gravity take, he redirects his dwindling energy into the floor, suddenly a wall of water bursting out of the floor, it wasn't thick or entirely that strong but acted more as a rubber shield, stopping enough and slowing down the rest. David is still pelted, however, as his wall slowly becomes less and less effective, he falls into a cradle position, wimpering a little.

By now, the girl behind the counter has finally called the cops for help. That task completed, she's currently hiding under the counter and moaning with her arms covered over her head. Meanwhile, Auset blinks and shouts, raising her arms instinctively as she is thrown into the path of her projectiles. The instant conscious thought returns, she halts the remaining barrage, a small cloud remaining on the dryer side of Dave's impromptu shield. She lands on the ground with a groan, stifling a shout of pain. She stumbles to her feet, turning to Dave with an expressionless face. She is /definitely/ out of touch, she thinks to herself. Narrowing her eyes, she focuses on the sand caught in Dave's shield to spread it out evenly and press down on Dave from the neck down--making a makeshift mud prison around the teen, using her force of will to hold it in place.

Power versus power, not a good thing, David struggled to move around before giving up and sagging slightly. He looks down at the mud, pulling off a gloveslowly before plunging a bare hand into the mud. Slowly, very slowly, the sand was separated from the water, through his skin David absorbed the water around him that would entrap him so.

Auset frowns, a bead of sweat appearing on her foreheat despite the energy running through her body brought on by the strength of the sun. She eyes this boy with a new light, appearing surprised, almost...impressed. She must redouble her efforts to train, indeed--but another day. Off in the not-too-far distance, the wail of approaching sirens can be heard. Auset scowls, briskly turning around on her heels and beginning to walk away. "This is not the last time we will meet," she promises aloud, clicking her tongue. If only it were not for the police, perhaps the...fun would continue.

Dave aims a finger back at Auset, before frowning a little, what was that expression, the was a little confusion on his features for a moment before he, snaps his finger back. "Lucky fuckin' me." he says before reaching out towards the smashed shop, his bag is thrown out and he catches it, puts it on before slapping his foot down onto the skateboard, it flips up into the air before being help a few feet up. He gives Auset one last look before jumping onto his board and pushing himself up with the last remaining effort he had, it took a lot of strength to lift himself and it showed. Up, onto one of the building tops where he jumped off and began to run, skimming across the roofs to escape the idea of sirens.

Auset continues to walk in the opposite direction from Dave and away from the cafe. The sirens get quite closer until a handful of police cars appear from around the corner, racing towards the cafe. Auset curses under her breath, trying to avoid being sighted. One policeman, however, avoids gaping at the cafe's terrible condition and swivels his attention to the dark woman fleeing the scene. "Hey, you!" he shouts out. "Hang on a minute. NYPD--we've got questions." Auset growls and, breaking into a run, makes her own mutant-like exit. Sand from where Dave had been lying flies through the air towards her, wrapping around Auset in a sudden cloud; moments later when it disappears, Auset stands 'clothed' under a gargoyle-like form, complete with bat-like wings and a head that is shaped like a falcon--the head of Ra. Grunting with the mental exertion to keep up the form, Auset compels the sand to lift her into the air, wings flapping as she quickly soars away from the scene, leaving a squad of policemen to gape, alone at the crime scene.
An...interesting read, to say the least. Brief cameo from Sabitha, who had to leave early on due to RL constraints. Rated R for language, and violence. Thanks to Dave for the fun. ^_^

(OOC) More icons...

Wed, 10 Aug 2005 21:05:26 GMT

Redoubling my efforts?

Wed, 10 Aug 2005 06:56:54 GMT

I cannot believe the sheer audacity of that man.

It was a...friendly enough conversation, I suppose. At least, in the sense that we were two people discussing life over a mild drink in a typical cafe, asking questions and the like. Except for the fact that I was sent here to kill people like him, and once again I did nothing about it. He didn't even belive me.

But, then, no one in this wretched city does, I suppose. If I were just another New Yorker, and I saw myself making such empty threats like I have, I would believe myself to be a psychotic lunatic.

Perhaps that is all I am: a raving foreign lunatic, whose mind has been ruined by delusions of grandeur and whose extraordinary powers go unwasted by apathy and a lack of confidence.

I still think I should've killed him. Perhaps, in death, he would see that my threats are not so idle, and that--even though I am just a woman--I am not as weak, as crazy, as I appear. Perhaps.

'And the gods have sent you here to please me?' (Shaw)'
In which Auset--'Tara'--has a random conversation with a fellow cafe patron, and realizes that she needs to work on her 'resume' if she intends to appear less psychotic. Thanks to xmm_shaw for a great scene, and for editing and posting the log!

(OOC) For reference: powers, history, etc.

Tue, 09 Aug 2005 15:15:23 GMT

Auset has two main powers: the complete manipulation of sand, and the ability to directly absorb the sun’s energy.

1. Sand manipulation—Auset has the ability to manipulate sand into any shape or in any way she can imagine. While this power is potentially limitless, she still can only manipulate particles of sand—topsoil and dust don’t count. Also, the sand has to be in its regular form or at least of a similar consistence—she can’t control any types of technology or even regular glass, because neither contain particles of sand in its regular form. If she could come up with a way to superheat regular sand and create a sand cloud with glass particles in it, she would still be able to control this, however. She can move the give the sand motion and direction as if with telekinesis, make it form three-dimensional shapes, push it together with extremely high force, and move it at extremely high speeds. Technically, she is able to manipulate the sand that is found at the bottom of lakes and oceans. Auset can mentally sense any sand within a mile, like a sixth sense; however, she can only manipulate sand within half a mile. While she can use her power when she isn’t looking at the sand specifically, doing so with her eyes closed or on sand not in a line of sight to her makes it much harder for her and more strenuous.

2. Solar energy absorption—Unlike ordinary humans, due to a muatation in her skin cells, Auset has an X-Factor related chemical flowing through her outer skin cells. Although this doesn’t change Auset’s skin tone, whenever direct sunlight touches Auset’s skin, her skin cells produce extra energy like a plant would when undergoing photosynthesis. As long as the sun hits her skin, those affected cells produce energy for her body that help balance out the costs on her body of manipulating sand. When she’s in a resting state and not consuming energy, the extra energy produced by this chemical comes out of her skin pores with her sweat. This prevents her from transforming the energy into stored fat or bursting with loose internal energy. Also, this only works with true solar energy--direct sunlight, not flashlights, lamps, lightbulbs. (NOTE: Hypothetically, if another mutant that could manipulate and/or direct solar blasts attacked Auset with his/her powers, she would not be entirely immune to such attacks. However, while she would still suffer damage as usual, the blast would leave her ‘supercharged’, as her skin abruptly absorbs the energy to repower her metabolism.)
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In many ways, Auset is a child of destiny. Auset’s “parents” were two high-ranking members in a secret sect of religious fanatics in Egypt. Located near the Great Pyramids outside of Cairo, these fanatics devoted their life to the study and worship of the ancient Egyptian deities. The group, named the Voice of Ra, believed that mankind—Egypt in particular—had fallen from the grace of the gods; if they were to return to the gods of ancient Egypt, they must prove themselves. The best way to do this, they believed, was to bring about the birth of a Chosen one: a young child of an ancient legend who would, with the blessing of the gods, grow up to honor the gods with his or her decisive actions. And so Auset was conceived by her parents. The child was to have no strong to connection with his or her parents; instead, the child must be raised with a strong desire to honor the gods.

Members of the Voice of Ra were quite surprised when Auset was born, for they had been expecting a strong, dependable son, not a “weak” daughter. Still, she was raised as their legend dictated, and she grew up without even knowing her parents’ names. For years, Auset did not even have a name: they believed that she, the Nameless One, must first prove through her actions that she would match the Chosen One of legend before she would earn a name or title of respect. Little did the doubtful fanatics know that Auset possessed within herself talents and powers unlike most ordinary human beings; Auset was, in fact, a powerful mutant.

Auset’s powers surfaced considerably early, at the age of 7. This is usually unheard of in a mutant, but to the Voice of Ra, it was divine intervention. When she first discovered her ability to manipulate sand, the group immediately removed her title of “the Nameless One” and bestowed upon her the name of Auset, to honor the name of one of the greatest of all Egyptian goddesses. Once her mutant powers manifested, she was forced to constantly practice ancient Egyptian skills, including horseback riding and reading of the ancient hieroglyphic texts. After she extensively learned the Egyptian language, the cult taught her English, as well; some day she may need to know it in order to help conquer the Western world. She was almost forbidden to use any modern technology; to the present day, Auset only uses technology if it is necessary. All her life as she was growing up, Auset was trained in the ways of ancient Egypt. More specifically, however, Auset trained day and night to master her ability to manipulate sand, for it was with this power the Voice of Ra planned she would come to dominate the Western world and prove the ultimate power of the gods.

After extensive work with her powers of sand, at the age of 11 she came to discover her other power of solar energy absorption. Auset discovered that as long as the sun was shining strongly directly on her skin, she never felt tired or exhausted. In the years before this power manifested, Auset often felt tired when being forced to practice with her powers of sand; now, when others felt drained from the desert heat, she felt rejuvenated and powerful. This is the time in Auset’s life when she felt the most confident in her duty: she could train for hours with sand and not get weak, so long as she had something to eat and a sun to shine on her directly. This was a very good sign for Auset, as the Voice of Ra claimed it was a gift from the sun god Ra himself.

As the years passed, Auset grew more and more anxious to make use of her powers. When she finally reached the age of 18, Auset could not control her curiosity and sneaked away from the Voice of Ra hideout and into the city of Cairo. She stayed out of danger for a while, cruising through the streets and admiring the city. Although she had been raised to believe otherwise, she could not help but feel that there was nothing wrong with the way modern Egyptians lived and thrived. That same day, she stopped at a food merchant’s store to have something to eat. She did not understand the concept of money, and tried to steal an apple from the vendor. The shop owner tried to cut off her hand, so Auset responded by forcing a cloud of sand into his lungs and suffocated him to death. Auset ran away from the city before she got arrested or into any other trouble, but the news made it to the Voice of Ra shortly after. She was rebuked and harshly punished, but when the sect commanded that she would never see the outside world until they deemed her ready, Auset couldn’t handle such treatment anymore. Auset ran away from the sect, but somehow managed to escape without killing any of her adopted family members; for the only time in her life, she couldn’t bring herself to mercilessly kill.

Auset began to travel from city to city, avoiding detection by secret members of the Voice of Ra located in the cities surrounding Cairo. For nearly a decade, she traveled Egypt alone with no other companion except a horse. She visited on her own every known major pyramid in the surrounding area, making many trips back to study the ancient hieroglyphic stones throughout the pyramids. When she reached the age of 26, Auset deemed herself ready and traveled by plane to the United States, the head of the beast that is the Western civilization, with one goal in mind: domination, to please the gods that had for so long protected her and blessed her with power.

However, now that Auset has finally made it to New York, she is feeling doubts about her destiny. How could one lone mutant take on the entire country with nothing but sand, a resource that was limitless in Egypt but hard to come by here? Worse, how could she absorb the sun’s full energy when it only shines at its fullest in the summer season? Still, she is determined to follow through with her life’s goal, even if it takes years to set up her path of domination. She will most likely scour the city for an organization with similar goals and find a way to use them in order to become the sole leader—no, Pharaoh—of this Western civilization. All in due time, she will plant the seeds of power that, when ripe, will allow her to crush the nation and bring honor to the gods of ancient Egypt. All in due time...
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Auset is typically mysterious, distant, and more than anything cold. She often appears uncaring and apathetic, and she does keep her own agenda ahead of all other things. However, when the need arises Auset can appear warm, loving, and desirable. She is, in her mind, a master of seduction. She will act any way necessary to “get the job done.” Still, while most would see her as dishonest and unable to be trusted, she often stresses the point that, if doing a task for someone will help her towards her goals, she will accomplish it. Period. In that way, Auset is as loyal as a paid assassin: it’s just hard for people to guess if she’s being loyal to her orders or her own agenda...

Taking the world by storm.

Tue, 09 Aug 2005 02:22:34 GMT

(As always, this is written ICly in Auset's private, offline journal. In Egyptian.)

The time is now. It is perfect, in absolutely every way. I have trained in secret this last year, adjusting myself to secretly fit into this wretched American society. I have studied these New Yorkers, and I now lack the blinding ignorance I possessed when I first came here. I may still stick out in a crowd because of my skin and accent, but in a city like this, that is hardly worth worrying about. The summer is not quite finished--August has only begun, and the hottest days are still around the corner.

And yet, I hesitate.

Perhaps it is because I have allowed myself to soften over the years. It has been almost a year since my last kill, although that one hardly counted. That was a time when I was desperate for survival, and I needed the 'cash', as they call it.

I have reevaluated my goals, and my ambitions. I think I have finally realized that I lack the initiative, the courage, to take action on my own. Perhaps, if I had orders or support from a third-party faction or organization, I would not feel so isolated and useless. There are so many targets...it would be such a chore, without some assistance. Or, perhaps it is because I no longer see the point in murdering thousands upon thousands of helpless strangers. Maybe I should narrow down my list. Alas, it is so hard being an assassin without guidance.

I have much to think about.

Yes, I have returned from the depths of idle-reapage! Expect to see more of me around. Also, on a random note, I think I finally found a face for my character--Ruby, an (apparently) famous Egyptian singer. Woohoo. Working on the icons now. ^_^

It's a small word after all...

Mon, 22 Nov 2004 23:02:11 GMT

Opinions are somewhat blurred in conception
Passive thoughts become impassive obsessions
And I find I have the ability...
To manipulate those gullible to my persuasion
With deceitful words and actions
Channelled into one dimensional emotions

This is rather irritating. I have met and frequented upon this man Forge so many times in this gods-forsaken city, I am beginning to wonder if there really are as many people living in this city as they say. How else could I run into this man again, and again, and again?!

The only other possibility I can think of is that the Egyptian god of Chance somehow means for me to interact with this...Forge...in some way or another. Perhaps, it is part of Ra's divine plan to help me conquer this cursed land, that I learn something important by spending time with him. Maybe...maybe he knows about something I can use. I have yet to see him interact with others; he is always alone, doing some random thing by himself. The next time I see him, perhaps I will follow him...see where he goes. Maybe he is part of something I have yet to witness for myself.

...Bah! I am doing it again! I cannot allow myself to get so paranoid. Just because this man is alone when I am with him does not mean he is with others when I don't. I cannot create a plan based on information I do not know; I must develop a different, crafty plot that will allow me to extract information from him against, or even by means of, his free will.

Of course, I could always just torture him. I haven't tried that yet. It would be very interesting. I haven't made someone painfully squirm in...well, at least a full year.

Statue of Liberty
Overlooking New York's harbor as a serene, copper-bound sentinel stands the Lady Liberty, common symbolism to depict New York as she looms above the ports entering the city and the calm waters below. Nearly as tall as the base upon which she stands, the statue was a common first impression of America to past foreign immigrants seeking refuge amid the city's towering sky scrapers for all manner of reasons. Now, she merely stands guard over New York, copper-tinge having lost its luster to a dull marble-green hue and a common attraction for tourists.
[Exits : [B]attery [P]ark, [T]o the [C]rown, and [L]ower [M]anhattan ]
[Players : Forge ]

Today, the cold is emphatically cold enough that even Forge is bundling up -- bundling in a massive leather jacket reinforced and bulked with an underside of down. His hands are in his jacket pockets and he's craning his neck back to get a good stare at our lady liberty, come bring me your poor. Forge frowns and exhales long and slow until his rib cage almost flattens empty. Then inhales and brings down his chin until his eyes are level with the base. Eh. Maybe he'll go home.

Auset is likewise bundled up in warm clothing: she wraps her dark brown, full length cloak around her body, shivering and muttering quietly under her breath. Once again, she finds herself wondering why this cursed land is so cold and void of Ra's power in this...this "winter". Humph! She reaches a hand up to her face to move a curl of hair behind her ear again, staring up at the Statue of Liberty. As she does, an ever so small frown forms on her face. Statue of Liberty--pah! Auset, she thinks to herself, will truly free this land: from its wretched state of living. So she stands there and frowns, all the while--unbeknownst to her--standing right next to that odd mechanical man she's met so many unfortunate times before...

Today, the cold is emphatically cold enough that someone standing right next to Forge will emit enough body heat to make him turn his head over his shoulder and notice. "Hey," Forge says, "there you are again. Look, if you want a /date/, I do have a phone number. I can even give it to you." Forge has not been feeling exceptionally wary lately.

Unlike Forge, however, "Tara" has been exceptionally wary lately; so emphatically wary that a simple sentence directly aimed to her throws her off guard. Jumping ever so slightly in surprise, she whips her head towards Forge, eyes in Extreme Glare Mode (tm). She intakes one short breath in a hiss, replying with a roll of her eyes and a silent complaint to the Egyptian god of Chance for making her run into this man so often, "Curse you, fool! Can you not just leave me alone?" Of course it's his fault--he is a /man/, after all. Sighing quietly, she shakes her head and places a thoughtful finger on her pallid cheek, adding in a slow Egyptian drawl, "You are...Forge. Yes. I am surprised I still have trouble remembering your name. What are you doing here?" And yes, that's a demand. Because obviously, he doesn't have /permission/ from her. Hmph.

"I'm sight-seeing," Forge says, and looks back toward the statue. "Note, here is a sight, I am seeing it. Being the permenant tourist I am, I figure I ought to visit the sights once every six months or so. I'm also leaving you alone." Forge is, indeed, folding his arms over his chest and the little speech he gave is the only reaction he appears to be having to her reaction. He may as well have accepted her poor acceptance of his presence in a monotone and slipped on headphones. She wants to be ignored, he can ignore her. /His/ expression is flat and unaffected.

Auset just sort of sighs slowly, once again muttering under her breath. Maybe she /is/ too paranoid. When she first met this man, she was convinced he could help her; later, she was convinced he was a threat. Now, she is unsure of herself and their relationship...knowledge of each other...thing. Perhaps, she should not complain to the Egyptian god of Chance: perhaps this Forge is indeed part of a divine plan that will aid her here in this new land! Surely, he knows his way around; he may have valuable information. In front of Forge, Auset's expression suddenly starts to vividly change--think evil Grinch-smile--until she no longer seems quite upset. Arching an eyebrow as if studying him for the first time, she replies to Forge's flat tone, "Ah. I see." She may not be saying much, but inside, the gears are turning quickly..."So, Forge. What is this 'snow' I keep hearing so much about? I understand it is rather...unpleasant to many."

"Ah, Tara." Wow, he remembers her name! Forge turns back to Auset and adjusts his feet until he's facing her properly. Her expression prompts a raised eyebrow of his own. "Listen. You're, what, twenty something? You speak, as far as I can tell, fluid, fluent, whatever, English. I really /doubt/ that you don't know what snow is or that you couldn't find out in approximately three seconds from any source of information I could name. Newspaper, internet, random bum . . . this 'innocent abroad' schtick is falling flat, man. The world's been compressed into one little bubble of knowledge. It's not like you don't know what electricity is, or what steel is, or what happens if you try to shove a big guy out of a subway line. You know what snow is, okay?"

Auset tsks and shakes her head back and forth, an amused smile on her face. He is already presenting a problem, she thinks to herself, but she can fix that. That is, after all, what she was raised to do. As far as she cares, diplomacy is an art: even if she isn't always a fantastic artist, she still appreciates observing others' work and learning from it. "My /dear/ Forge," she bites on her tongue slightly at that term of endearment, but continues nonetheless, "I am afraid you do not know me very well. You see, I am from /Egypt/. I have not seen snow." She speaks this slowly, as if dumbing it down to him; she finds it rather amusing. "Oh, sure, as you say, I know what it is. I am not that incompetent. I have simply not been so fortunate--or, perhaps, unfortunate--as to have experienced it for myself. When I asked you what snow was like, I merely wanted...well, your opinion. Because, while I can surely gather information about it from such sources of knowledge, I cannot so easily experience it through papers and the 'Internet'."

"I'm aware that you're from Egypt," Forge says, squashing an inappropriately smirky kind of grin. "You just ask all these questions as if you'd stepped out of some time pocket into the modern world, which I know you haven't. Thus. If you want me to take you seriously, take me seriously enough to talk like a person and not some crafty apprentice to some, I don't know, ancient pharoah, who travelled forward in time and is just /entranced/ like an ingenue by the cities and the cars . . ." Forge finally takes a breath. "Snow's snow. I don't have any opinion about it whatsoever and you'll see it soon enough, which will be a lot more interesting than what I could tell you."

Auset frowns sincerely at Forge, with pursed lips that almost seem to resemble a pout. She opens her mouth as if to reply in a bitter tone that, in fact, she /hasn't/ grown up in the modern world, that she truly has been bottled up in an effective time capsule lifestyle until her coming of age. Instead, however, she merely sighs again, shrugging. Responding in a neutral, almost disappointed tone, "Oh...I see. I guess I am merely too 'crafty', as you so put it, to enjoy this city. I was merely asking about the weather, it was not such a /difficult/ question," she finishes in that slight accusing, sad tone.

"No, I didn't say you were too crafty. I said you acted unnaturally out of sorts about snow and city -- look, no one, from any country, comes up to a stranger and says 'So, what is it with snow?' unless they /want/ to get looks. Well. Then perhaps I am saying that you're crafty." Forge frowns, a quick expression that quickly passes back into the blank. "You weren't asking about the weather. You asked 'what is this snow thing' essentially. Those are two very different questions."

Auset frowns in mild confusion, the way a little school girl would if she didn't understand a question in class. "But snow comes about because of these changes in weather, and is a weather condition. So..." She screws her face up in a sudden pang of irritation, for a moment considering killing this annoying foreigner here and now to teach him a lesson, instead of the other way around! But, as usual, she gives in to hesitation, merely sighing and glancing back up at the dark, cloudy sky. "Perhaps if a visitor from another underdeveloped, foreign country, came and saw these massive buildings, these skyscrapers, for the first time--perhaps that person would feel a little 'behind the times', as well. Is it so different for me? I came from a part of Egypt that was...restricting about such knowledge, it would seem."

"All well and good, Tara, but you've been here a while now and spoke excellent English /then/," Forge says, his voice inflected slightly more gentle. "So that doesn't stand. Besides, you're /not/ gaping and you're not an ingenue. If anything, you seem to strive to be a little bit sinister. So, I don't know /what/ you're trying to do, honestly."

Auset blinks and exhales slowly, upset and irritated. She is, at the moment, unsure of what to do. She's tried flat-out lying, hinting, sneaking, twisting facts, and complaining; perhaps she should just stick with the simple, honest truth. Taking another deep breath, she shrugs and replies in a purely deadpan, chilling tone, "I am here to kill you all. As, I'm sure, you have heard before. Perhaps that /is/ a little bit sinister," she admits with a newly forming grin. "As it is, I know English well because I was trained as a weapon. Knowing English allows me to blend in better, and understand my enemies more. That is simple enough." She calmly waits for him to call her a lunatic, or disregard her as he has apparently been prone to do; she doesn't care. She will have the last laugh, in the end. All she needs is more information, and more time...

"Oh, I see." Well, that just cinches everything and explains the world away. Forge taps his finger against the inside of his opposite elbow. "Right. I keep forgetting. Just so I know, are you a demon, too? I mean, are you human or mutant or god or what's your genome? In fifty words or less."

Auset shrugs, that neutral expression still on her face. "I suppose," she replies slowly in thought, "that I am a mutant. But, it would appear that the Egyptian gods favor me exceptionally well." Again, a small, sinister smile forms on her face. "But, you shall learn more about that in due time." Pausing for a moment, she adds with a nod towards Forge with another thought, "Oh, and I hope you spread the word. I'd love to meet some of your friends." Winking, she turns around to leave--surprisingly, sans theatrics or an over-the-shoulder 'lunatic' threat. She does not look back, only continues to walk off with her cloak wrapped around herself tighter, preserving her heat once again as she heads off to an unknown location...

OOC: Thanks again to Forge for a great scene! I thoroughly enjoyed it. ;-)

A change in the turn of events.

Mon, 22 Nov 2004 03:45:47 GMT

Every thought felt as true
Or allowed to be accepted as true by your conscious mind
Take roots in your subconscious
Blossoms sooner or later into an act
And bears its own fruit
Good thoughts bring forth good fruit

I nearly lost it tonight. I can't believe myself...

After all my hard work to escape my pursuers in Egypt and travel here to these "United States" alone, I cannot believe that I would risk my cover, my alias, to simply ask some girl about her dark glasses! Just because I was intrigued by her to desire to block out sunlight--simply because I myself can take advantage of its mighty power!

That someone would block out the radiant power, the might of Ra...I never understood that desire for people to wear these "sunglasses". But, perhaps, I have learned something more important about myself this evening. I have learned that I must double my efforts; I have, it would appear, lost my vigilance of late. I am still upset with myself that I could lose my edge, and fail to make the first move during the summer, at the peak of my power. I even had the location determined--that beach was perfect. But now, I fear it is too late. Perhaps I should risk it anyway, despite the threat of this wretched "snow" I have studied about, and the lack of sun during this cold season.

Either way, I have not yielded to this "American might." I will not fail Ra, nor Auset--the one after whom I am truly named. I will not fail!

Nest Egg Coffee & Books - Front Room
The coffeehouse is designed in such a manner to be a bit of an optical illusion. It looks a LOT smaller then it is. Upon entering, one has to step down a short flight of five stairs into this wide circular floor space were the multicolored light filtering in through the stain glass windows. Lamps, floresent lighting, and sky lights iluminate the rest of the place.

The first floor is the bookstore. To the left is another sort of circular hollow, ringed by three steps, were chairs for reading. To the right is the check out desks/cash registers and ahead is many, many rows of books grouped in goneras and sections and all the books are lined up on the shelves in alphabetical order. There is everything from fiction to non fiction, science to science fiction, fantasy, children's literature, how to, and so on and so forth. There is even a "Rare and Wonderful" section as well as a "Graphic Novel" section.

Well placed live plants add a much needed touch of green. There is a flight of open stairs that lead up to the second floor where the coffee shop is on a balcony affair that over looks the bookstore below. Beside the stairs is an open space free of bookshelves that is used as an art gallery for local artists.

There are also several clearly marked emergency exits and a smoke alarm and sprinkler system running throughout the building, as well as some well hidden security cameras, but the general public normally would'nt notice the heightened security and safety precautions.
[Exits : [B]ack [R]oom, [U]pstairs, and [O]ut ]
[Players : Yalena ]

Yalena sits in a corner of the coffeeshop, hunched over a couple of schoolbooks. The dark goggles she wears despite being inside don't draw the attention they might, elsewhere. Welcome to New York. Keeping very much to herself, the teen sips occasionally at a steaming hot cup of tea, keeping her nose in the books as well as her attention span will allow.

(Desc)
Auset
Only a few things about this woman seem slightly odd. First, Tara is a beautiful Egyptian woman, but she seems to be wearing modest clothing--in fact, she's wearing extra, just because of the cold weather. Still, she seems a bit out of place in this city. Second, she seems to be carrying a large jar or gourd-shape container on her back, and although she acts mild-mannered, she acts very protective of this container. Third and lastly, while Tara looks nice and sweet, her eyes seem...angry somehow. As if a fire is burning in her eyes, a fire of strong, negative emotions that just won't seem to go out. Perhaps she isn't all that she seems...?

A breeze of cool autumn air sneaks into the entryway of the coffee shop as "Tara", the mysterious Egyptian woman, quietly enters the building. Shivering and muttering under her breath, she wraps her long khaki trenchcoat tighter around her body, fighting to conserve as much body heat as possible. Tara smiles slightly at those she passes by, appearing calm and friendly; however, her eyes quickly dart around the entire room, taking in as much information as possible. She raises an eyebrow slightly as she spots the other woman in dark sunglasses, but says nothing. Rather, she continues to the counter, placing an order for a nice hot "cup o' joe". As she waits, however, her eyes periodically flicker back towards the woman in sunglasses, confused as to why someone would need to block out the darkness of winter.

Yalena glances distractedly up at the new arrival, the cool breeze doing more to wake her than the caffeine in her drink. The goggles, looking like a sporty version of the type glaucoma sufferers might wear, are slid up long enough to rub at tired eyes, revealing the bruises of lack of restful sleep. Some are just too serious for their own good at times. Beyond that, she looks the Egyptian over carefully, curiously, before studiously returning to her books. Finals are too close for comfort.

Auset might not have 'bags' under her eyes from sleep deprivation, but those who know her well--which is, not surprisingly, very few--would notice a lack of confidence in her eyes. While Tara would like to exude a bold sense of confidence all the time, lately she has seemed to misplace it. Politely thanking the man behind the counter and winking suggestively at him, she wanders over to a stack of books near Yalena, observing both at the same time. Odd, that such a woman like Tara would be so curious and intrigued by such a simple thing as an odd pair of glasses; as it is, she finds the topic of sunlight quite important to herself, as well. She idly wonders, as she leans slightly towards the other girl, if the girl is becoming suspicious of the Egyptian woman's presence herself...

The naivette of youth is still hard upon the Russian teen. All Yalena is really worried about, in an outward manner, are the English and Sciences books set before her. Curious would be a better word. Even though the city is a mish-mash of so many cultures as to be dizzying, some till have a great amount of interest in those that are different than themselves. Or maybe it's that container on the Egyptian's back. That's more than a little odd, after all. Lena mutters a curse in Russian so softly it's like she suspects a parent to be standing right behind her. It isn't ladylike to use such words, anyways.

"Tara", who is by now quite close to the Russian girl as she peers over her back, blinks at the muttered Russian curse. What's that supposed to mean? Bah! Muttering to herself, she sighs aloud and finally asks in a curious, heavily accented voice, "I hate to interrupt, but...what are you wearing? Over your eyes, I mean?" Tara may be good at disguising her true intentions and interests, but when she wants something, she is straightforward and utterly tactless. She quickly glances down at the papers the other girl is studying before flicking back up to study the dark goggles. Hmm.

Yalena blushes a bit, thinking at first that her wandering gaze was noticed. "Hmm? Oh, pardon. These are just for my eyes, miss. The doctor says they are too weak and the light will damage them." Half truths are better than blatant lies, and this is one she's had time to consider carefully. "Do not worry," she adds with a smile, "I can see just fine through them. What is bottle for?"

Auset blinks and 'aaahhs', nodding slowly to herself. Standing there above the quiet, polite girl, she suddenly feels very awkward and inappropriate. Hmm...standing up straight and taking a slight step back, she nods again as she takes a short sip of her warm coffee cup, hiding a grimace aimed at herself. Bah--she must be losing her touch. She must not let her own paranoia bother her. "I see," she replies with a small smile. "I apologize. I was...merely curious about your eyepieces. I found them unique." As far as her bottle on her back goes, however, she pauses and hesitates. After a short pause, she forces herself to once again not be so paranoid; picking her words carefully, she replies with a shrug, "It is merely a container for a...memento of sorts. A collection of Egyptian sand I took with me from my home, when I came here."

Yalena smiles tiredly. "Ah, a reminder of home, then. That is what my coat is, a reminder of where I come from." Paranoia is probably a very good thing. Who could know that the polite teen can be dangerous? Or has been in the very recent past. "The glasses, though... Should see what I was forced to wear, before. They do cause many problems in school. Teachers do not wish for students to be so individualistic." She forces herself to stop talking before it turns into rambling, picking up her cup and swallowing most of the cooling contents.

Auset nods, smiling as she takes another sip of her own coffee. My, my...it's amazing how useful a prop such as a cup of coffee could be. A spark of Auset's old flair hints in her eyes for a brief moment as she thinks the same thing Yalena is: one's outside appearance does not dictate how dangerous that person is. "That is interesting, then. We are not so different, it sould seem. My name is Tara. You are...?" Of course, she continues to use her same alias; revealing her true name is an event she will save for a much more important event.

Yalena has no problem sharing her real name, since there is nothing attached to it. "Lena... Yalena Sulivoi. It is pleasant to meet you, Tara. Would you care to sit?" While the distraction would be nice, it's more of that politeness. Too much longer and she's going to just retreat to the chapter house and pretend to be asleep.

Auset actually goes so far as to consider sitting down and chatting with this interesting Russian girl, before she mentally chides herself for being so willing to interfere with other people's lives. Smiling sweetly, she shakes her head slightly and replies in a cheerful tone, "Oh, no, but thank you. I have errands to run before the night is over, and I'm behind as it is. Perhaps some other time...Yalena? Yes, another time." Raising her cup to the other woman in a toast, she takes another long sip of her coffee before turning around and heading for the door. Looking back over her shoulder with that same cheerful--yet somehow /odd/--smile, she adds in that strong Egyptian drawl, "Happy Thanksgiving, Yalena Sulivoli." With that, she exits the book and coffee store, a smug, satisfied smile as she once again wraps her warmer clothing around herself. Perhaps the night has not been wasted...

(Edit) OOC: I suppose it would help if I actually post the log, wouldn't it? Hehe...there we go.

Dress rehearsal by the beach.

Sun, 22 Aug 2004 23:24:22 GMT

After a bit of scouting, I managed to find the perfect location for my first deed as the Hand of Ra's weapon of destruction. It is a beach on the Atlantic ocean, surrounded by a sea of sand only a few miles from the city, on a piece of land known as Coney Island. It is a prime location, and I spent several hours there today practicing my skills by the water.

Near the end, I found Forge again. That man is plaguing my waking moments; I seem to find him everywhere. Perhaps it is Anuke, the Goddess of War, teasing me, tempting me to kill the man. Personally, I really do not care whether or not he knows of my plans. Perhaps he will spread my words to others that have the power to oppose me...I hope he does. It would make this that much more interesting.

After enough practice, I have figured out a way to impact the sand I affect even after I leave. By forcing the sand particles together, I can make them stay as firm and sharp as natural crystal, although I suspect it is not permanent. Moisture and such can seep within the cracks of the crystals, forcing them apart. Still, it is good to know I can still find new ways to apply my powers after nearly two decades of using them.

I am growing anxious of the first event, but I must not be too rash. Forge has warned me about opposing forces; perhaps I must seek out an ally or helpful organization that can aid me on my quest. Other mutants, I have decided, do not necessarily deserve to die, if they would be useful to my cause. We shall see.

Coney Island - Beach
The expansive beach spans out before you, the salty sea air mixin with the delicious smells of freshly popped corn and cotton candy from the distant amusement park. Generally packed during the day by hundreds of sunbathers and swimmers, it suddenly turns into a place of solitude for a few scattered couples at night. The cool breeze whips by you, carrying the waves in which lash against the shore to create a soothing noise. The white foam washes down the dark cream colored sand at the shoreline, leaving behind miniature treasures from the sea.
[Exits : [B]oardwalk ]

Although the day may be fading, the sun still shines on the beach outside of the city, and Auset seems to be in a rare excellent mood. Sporting a very small two-piece bikini, which she struts about by the water in a way that accentuates her beautiful physical features, the Egyptian woman lazily walks up and down the beach, eyes scanning the coast for the perfect location to practice her skills without interruption. Nothing can ruin the tan goddess' mood today. Nothing.
Forge is sprawled out on the verge between sand and boardwalk. He appears to be taking a nap (as is his wont lately). Or, rather, it ranged into the stupid to talk a stroll out toward the ocean today, what with the medication not being enough and the pain staying insistent, if more of an insistent throb than an insistant stab, and a wretched heat haze interposing itself over his corneas. Which all the blinking in the world couldn't vanish or lessen. So being out in the sun = stupid. Ah well. He'd be able to get up in a minute.

Auset continues her small stroll, gazing off to her left towards the magnificent small sea of sand between the salty ocean and the distant city. With that much sand, and all of the sand still hidden beneath the ocean on her right...with that much, she could change this city. Wreak havoc among it, instill fear into the hearts of those millions of ignorant citizens not far away. All in due time. By chance, she spots Forge off to the side by himself, this section of the beach mostly empty in the later hours of the afternoon. Despite her previous irritating meetings with him in the past, this one does not dampen her odd bubbly mood. Saying nothing, she decides she will use that section for her practice. She raises a hand just slightly, narrowing her eyes as she begins to write in the sand with her mind. As if by an invisible hand, ancient hieroglyphic symbols are etched into the now dense sand, the beach around him turning hard like stone as she forces the sand close together and writes in it. Within a few moments, she finishes her writing, a large area surrounding Forge now covered in symbols few others in the world could understand. Guess she hasn't lost her touch.

Forge isn't a master of awareness most days ... and it takes him a few long heartbeats to realize the change in the ground under him. Which, once noticed, prompts a puzzled grunt. Another moment and his reaction becomes more startled. He shoves himself sitting with a thrust of his (good) elbow, nearly overbalances onto his back -- makes a "save" by pulling that same arm behind him to catch and aid in a high kneed scramble backwards, away from the writing. In this position, he notices Auset. And pauses with an inner groan. Her again.

Auset smiles mirthlessly at Forge's silly antics, but does not yet comment. Continuing her practice, she furrows her eyebrows and stares at the sand longer, working on a new technique she's picked up in the last few weeks since seeing Forge again. Channeling the ever-forming bioenergy from the sun's presence into her mental concentration, she presses harder and harder upon the sand particles, forcing them together. After a few long moments, she sighs once and laughs out loud. There, she's done it: as far as anyone's concerned, that sand will stay in that position for several days, at least. By forcing them together, she crushed the sand's crystalline format into each other, causing the sand particles to join together, making it hard as concrete--although, she's fairly certain, moisture in the air will cause them to seperate again not long from now. But still, it's an improvement. Hence the rare happy attitude. Running a hand through her long, raven-black hair, she eyes Forge a bit more and finally comments, "This is a good beach. I like it." As if having a typical conversation with Forge over things like grocery shopping or weather, she continues, "You don't seem like much of a person to be visiting beaches. Do you come here often?"

"No, not particularly," Forge says. He stopped looking at Auset about 37.8 seconds after seeing her for the first time. His eyes have returned and remained on the sand. "But it's nice every once in a while. Somehow, your presence here is about as puzzling as the presence of a seagull on a buoy or a ferry or something like that. Ah hah. So. You're making crystal slabs. With heiroglyphics. I suppose this signifies something."

Auset nods, still carrying on the conversation with Forge instead of trying to kill him like she's been contemplating lately. Still, she can always change her mind if she gets bored, so she decides to just keep talking. Idly turning her right hand over and staring at her fingernails, she arches an eyebrow and replies, "I do not understand your American humor. Is that some sort of joke? Of course I like the beach." Looking up to Forge and arching an eyebrow, she places her right hand back down on her hip and shifts her feet a bit, enjoying the feel of the warm sand beneath her toes. Staring at Forge as if he must be completely clueless, she states in a manner-of-fact way, "They are ancient Egyptian hieroglyphic rites. A liturgy I memorized when I was only 7 years old, describing the origin of the great god Ra himself. I am merely...practicing," she shrugs as she smiles again evilly, not even blinking as seven identical spheres of sand rise up from the ground in a symmetrical fashion around her, floating at her eye level. Blinking only once, she looks towards Forge as the spheres all start to turn into random animal shapes, which seem to move about in the air as if with their own mind. "Everything has a purpose."

Forge follows this with the same flat expression -- with the faintest flicker of interest at second intervals. It's not so much that he's putting forth all his willpower to look dulled out by the whole thing -- it's more than even flying crystal animals look vague and removed in his current state. If anything, all the motion, plus the obligation to sit up and hold a conversation that may or may not aggravate things further if he doesn't perform, makes him want to throw up somewhere a little more private. "Ah. So you're telling stories about the gods in the sand. Sounds interesting."

Auset arches an eyebrow slightly, the seven animal shapes instantly turning back into spheres and flying into orbit around her in a complex fashion, the way electrons in an atom would travel. The shapes may be simple, but Auset is working on endurance and fine control--even if it shows Forge how skilled she is. Right now, she cares little about whether or not he learns anything about her. Pursing her lips, she replies smoothly, "No; I am educating you." Crossing her arms across her chest, she shakes her head just slightly in amusement as the spheres pick up a dramatic burst of speed, still following their complex patterns without ever hitting each other or herself. This is one of her favorite exercises, another one she's been improving since when her powers first manifested in Egypt. Tilting her head just slightly to the side in thought, her face possibly obstructed from Forge's view now and then by a flying orb of sand, she comments in a way that isn't really a question, "You think I'm insane, don't you."

"There's nothing insane about religion," Forge says, slumping farther as his support arm bends into an acute angle. "Although I'm not sure how or what you're educating me. I see that you have powers and that you're able to control them. That's very nice. I applaud your control. I do think you need to drop the whole destruction of New York thing because, aye, my gods will be most irritated with you. We don't like that. But, hey, believe what you want."

Auset tsks as she shakes her head more, eyebrows furrowing again in concentration as the spheres pick up one more slight speed boost. "I am educating you on the true history of ancient Egypt and how it applies to your city," she explains simply. Rolling her eyes, she forces the spheres to instantly stop their orbit and join together, shifting behind her to form a throne-like chair. Taking a seat on the newly formed chair, she replies with a sigh, "As I stated before, I do not believe that--how would you Americans say it?--bullshit." Her lips turn into another mirthless smile, continuing in an informative drawl, "The majority of those citizens are either monotheistic or fail to even believe in the existence of gods at all. I assure you, I have no fear of your so-called 'gods'. I also assure you," she leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees on her throne, "that my gods -do- exist. And I will prove it with the deed of eradicating the scum of your city, as I have been chosen to do."

"Right, right." Forge rolls onto his stomach, then struggles to his feet. "Because of course my beliefs are utterly insignificant and existence only exists in committee. Which would mean, I'm afraid, that as you may be the only one within Manhattan who believes in /your/ gods, yours don't exist either. Your logic doesn't hold up. Here's what does. You do anything major, Tara, and you will discover that there are opposing and great powers set across from you, etc. And I'm going to bed." He starts toward the boardwalk.

Auset laughs once again, replying to Forge's first comment deadpan, "Why, you're beginning to understand. Your beliefs -are- insignificant." Arching an eyebrow and laughing quietly under her breath this time, she adds to Forge's back as he walks off, "Good! I could use a challenge. It will make my conquest that much more interesting." Leaning forward again with her elbows on her knees, fingertips pressed together in an intellectual sort of way, she adds to herself as he leaves, "You will soon go to bed forever, dear Forge. I'm afraid I will miss our conversations." A manic burst of laughter bubbles out of her throat, turning into a fit of loud echoing cackles that are sure to reach Forge's ears as he walks off into the distance. All in due time.

It draws closer.

Fri, 13 Aug 2004 03:09:22 GMT

Soon. Soon the time will come for my plan to begin, and the world will know my wrath. The unveiling of my name will come with the blood of my first victim.

That man...Forge, he says his name is. I hope his skin crawls and his blood runs cold when he has the first one hundred deaths on his hands, on his conscience. Even if he has nothing to do with them. I hope he feels guilty when he finds my sincere promises to end the Western civilization are not hollow threats, and that he had not passed me off as a raving lunatic.

...If only I did not care so much about what others thought. He is a simple man. I do not even know if he is a human or, as the Westerners here refer to a gited one such as myself, "mutant". But I understand now that I don't care. Either way, he will soon die himself for what he's done to humiliate me and the Gods before him. His blasphemy will not go unpunished. Or...perhaps I will let him live. Torture him, maybe, slowly kill him as others around him perish for his arrogant ignorance. Either way, in the name of Ra, his blood will run. Even if I cannot manage to kill him yet, I swear he will feel my wrath, and he shall know pain.

I must make my first move, before the summer fades. With the strength of the sun, I can do anything. Also, I discovered today, despite my constant doubt at its existence, sand in the ocean. I cannot believe that a body of water as large as this could be safeguarding another ocean: an ocean of sand, of the driving force behind my purpose. Yes...perhaps the first shall be at the beach. By the ocean, with the sun shining. No matter. In the end, I will make the ocean run red with the sinners' blood. They shall all pay for their crimes against Ra and my Gods. Soon...yes, soon.

...But, alas. If only he would believe me. Then revenge would be so much sweeter.

Battery Park
Originally a Dutch settlement in the early 1700's, what once was a fort has been choked out with the beautiful vegetation of Battery Park. A popular spot to waste a peaceful afternoon, the park is flanked to the north by several quaint little shops and pizza joints before falling back into the huge skyscrapers of the main city, while to the south lie the docks and waterside. The view is spectacular and, while rumored for its sunsets, the Statue of Liberty can also be seen as a faint outline in the distance even on hazy days.
[Exits : [S]tatue of [L]iberty, [Ch]inatown, and [B]rooklyn [B]ridge ]
[Players : Forge ]

Forge is neither acting erratic or interesting. He does seem to have gotten a good night's sleep. At least, his face isn't drooping and his posture is basically upright. It's been some time since he visited Battery Park. And he's decided to take a special, ah, break from his machines just to sit on a bench and watch Statue of Liberty stand unchanged -- small from here, but unchanged. He thinks nothing significant about it. (In fact, he is quite aware he is being guilty of chintz. But that's okay)

Auset is walking in the crowd, wearing much more comfortable clothes now that -her- season has rolled around. Unfortunately for the rest of the Western civilization, Auset is starting to fit in. As she looks back, she is unsure how she survived such a horrid thing as winter, or even the cool yet lively spring; but no matter. Summer is here, and the sun has arrived. Even if it isn't that noticeable today. Still, even the dark sky and occasional rain can't put her off today. A small Egyptian veil covering her head and face, keeping her face dry in the scattered storms, she wears a hidden smug smile--which grows even more when she spots someone she knows. Ahh...Forge, isn't it? It's been a long time. Well, no matter. She has the courage to 'greet' him today, and so she walks up to him from behind and asks in a drawling, questioning tone, "Admiring the view?"

"Why, yes, I am. I am, in fact, admiring the view," Forge says. He recognizes the voice, although he hasn't bothered trying to place it yet. From the tone, he has all the information he needs. It is not someone he knows well either/or has talked to in some time. It is not someone friendly. "You must be psychic, ma'am."

Where once Auset / "Tara" would've been afraid for Forge to recognize her, she is now glad for some amusement. Stepping around the bench slowly so that she comes into view, she keeps her veil on, crossing her arms across her chest as she replies dryly, "I thought perhaps my thick Egyptian accent would give me away." Although, her English has also noticeably improved, despite her wish that it hadn't. Curse this Western tongue...! Turning slightly so that she also can see the Statue of Liberty, she all but purrs, "It's good to know this nation looks up to women for their virtues." Turning back to Forge, she studies his eyes, glaring into them. She makes no comment about being psychic; perhaps it will do her better to have him think she is. Instead, she states in a neutral tone, "The last time I saw you, you attacked me." Well, perhaps she -may- have been the initiator, but he was the aggravator. Him and those friends of his. "You, and your 'friends'." She states it in a way that almost implies he owes her an apology.

"Oh?" Forge looks back. With something bordering on fearlessness. Or just not enough energy to be frightened of yet another woman who walks like she owns the pavements she walks on and several feet underneath (the several feet underneath owned for the specific purpose of burying men in or what not), and, of course, has a past history that makes her loathe him in a specific and inexplicably half sexual fashion. Hurrah. "Forgive me. So much has happened since then, I'm sure. I don't recall having an exceptionally aggressive personality and I certainly don't recall breaking bones or kicking shins or causing any permanent damage. And you look like you're in good health. So it must not have been awful."

If those several feet underneath were regarding a beach, then yes, she'd say she owned them. But otherwise, she has no claim to burial grounds. In Egypt, those not fit to wander the desert are burned alive and left for the vultures. Apparently, that is hard for anyone here to understand. Arching an eyebrow, she simply replies, "Oh, really. Well, I happen to have a fine memory. And don't worry...just because you attacked me doesn't mean you made it all the way to me." Winking as she reaches out a hand to his appearingly impervious face, she strokes his cheek and asks with a small, evil grin, almost on the verge of giggling, "You still don't know why I'm here, then, do you? And likely, still don't care?" She loves the way he flinches when she touches him. Marvelous...mmm. Tilting her head, she watches Forge the way a snake would watch a mouse, eyeing it and pondering if she's hungry enough to swallow him alive. Leaning over, she whispers in a quiet yet malicious tone, "I think you'd have a good reason to care."

Said flinch only due to a brief sensory memory. Of other touches. All the same, honestly. Forge reaches out a hand to take Auset's wrist. His eyes stay on hers. And he's uninterested in her expression beyond the quick impression of predation. "Don't touch me. And unless you're specifically here to try to seduce me, which would make for very bad taste, not to mention frivolity, on your part, you have no business with me. Good day."

Auset's eyes flatten dangerously, and, with a surprisingly quick clockwise rotation of her held wrist, she forces Forge's hand off of her own. Taking hers back and crossing her arms across her chest again as she arches an eyebrow, she replies in a chilling tone, "On the contrary. Don't touch -me-." Shaking her head and tsking quietly, she adds, "And -why- in the name of Set would I be interested in seducing you? Silly Forge...I'm trying to harass you." As if that should've been obvious long ago. This time, she does giggle quietly, but with no mirth. "As it is, I do have business with you. A question, rather." Looking around the streets, she asks in a disappointing tone, "I don't understand it. What about these streets, with their cold-blooded murderers and its filthy citizens, makes this city so appealing to others?"

Forge would point out that if Auset wants not to be touched, she should not go about stroking cheeks as to touch is to be touched, and, possibly, to offend. But he suspects he'd be explaining to dead air. As would an explanation that he knows very well she's not deeply attracted to him. He is forced to follow directions and answer the question. If snidely. "I'd suppose you'd approve of warm-blooded murders. There are plenty of those. And many of us do take showers, you see. New York is full of activity. It's full of people. It's full of things. There's plenty to do. Or try to do. That's appeal enough, you see. Of course, plenty of people find Montana appealing or Florida appealing. And those are very different places."

Auset ponders that for a moment, mulling it over. So, it's that easy? The city is likeable because there are so many people...? Well, that'll be easier to take care of than she thought! Looking into Forge's eyes, a dangerous, purely evil smile starts to form on her lips, curling up into a deadly grin. She laughs in a high, too-sweet tone (OOC: reminiscent of Gogo's evil laugh in Kill Bill vol. 1, prior to attacking Uma Thurman. ^.^) before silencing herself, staring back at Forge, that evil grin still on her face. "That's a shame. Because my purpose here," she leans forward ever so slightly, completely deadpan, "is to kill them. All of them." Her tone is as chilly as this previous winter; Forge might be surprised that her breath isn't visible. As if repeating a liturgy, she continues, "The gods have deigned this city, and the entire Western civilization, unworthy of existence. These people," she motions to the masses in the background, walking up and down the streets at quick paces, "have forgotten them. And so, they will be punished. And I will be their punisher." Beaming with pride--some might call it insanity, rather--she continues, "I have been chosen by the Egyptian gods to bring this upon them. And so I will."

"Ah hah." Forge slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out a cellphone. "I see. You're going to kill everyone." He dials a number. "Could you repeat that again, a little louder, ma'am? Because my gods are going to be a little irritated that your gods didn't talk to them first. They'll want to form a committee on the destruction of New York. Otherwise, I'm afraid it'll be totally out of bounds and there will probably be a great god war which destroys the universe. So if you could repeat that whole speal a little louder, I can at least leave a message on their machine."

With not so much as a breath, Auset strikes. Well, not on Forge, exactly. Just his possessions. A rush of sound is produced as a large cloud of sand suddenly flies out from beneath Auset's back, out of that jar she's carrying, and races towards Forge's hands. In an instant, the sand condenses into a razor-sharp ring around the cell phone, suddenly pressing inward on it with a slicing motion, leaving the cell phone in two neat slices within moments. The sun may not be out, but such a small display of power does not drain her much. Leaving the sand floating in a now perfect sphere directly in front of Forge's eyes, she replies quietly in a cold tone, "You think I jest? You think I would leave my home and willingly wander in this...this filthy, stupid city for -fun-? Do -not- test me."

"How do you know I'm jesting?" Forge asks. The speed surprised him. The power did not. Her reaction did not. Too much. A mild shake starting at his hip up only lasts for a half heartbeat. He lets the cellphone drop. He's recording anyway. As soon as Auset showed up as Auset. "That's just the problem with all you city destroying messengers with divine sanction. You're unable to believe that anyone else has missions of their own. Serious. There are gods protecting this city. They'll be upset."

Auset--or Tara, as she is still known to this land--simply stares back, debating if this is a typical Westerner's pathetic attempt at humor. If it is, it surely is not very humorous to her. Another mirthless smile forming on her face, she replies, "You're city's 'missions' are not relevant to me, or my gods. Neither are you're city's 'gods'. In the end, they will all be useless, and your people will be dead." With that, she simply waves her hand as the floating sphere of sand in front of Forge's eyes suddenly flattens out and rushes towards Forge's eyes, but does not cause him pain; instead, it attaches to his eyes, Auset's will forcing them firmly onto his face to prevent his eyes from allowing him to see her leave. Slowly taking a few steps backwards, she smiles again and offers, "You may still call me Tara, the Queen of the Earth." Because any Latin geek would know that Tara sounds like "terra", meaning the earth. ;) "You will learn of my true name soon. The name granted to me by the gods that will destroy you. When the first is killed...then you shall know the name of your death. So long." With that, Forge's eyes still blocked, she slowly walks away, slipping down an alley and wiping a small, single bead of sweat off of her face as she leaves. And as she gets far enough away, she releases the sand block on Forge's eyes, the remaining sand particles simply falling to the ground by the bench, lifeless.

Forge blinks. The blindness caused an inevitable flutter of panic, but her threat did not. Sand manipulation -- sharp sand manipulation. All things to note. Dangerous, yes. A world threat, no. And a lesser threat than this other, right now. "Gods of this city," he says to himself, holding his metal palm up gingerly. If only his shoulder would stop /hurting/. "Yeah. I think I'll have a file to send to /someone/. Ugh. How many people owe me death now?" And, with that, he stands up and leaves the park. Best to get back to work.

Ho hrmm...

Thu, 12 Aug 2004 14:26:01 GMT

Well, I finally took the initiative to update my alt's LJ. o_O I've got some interesting things planned for her, if I ever take the next step and actually RP again. Doh.

I managed to find some pictures and make a few icons, although they're not fantastic. The hardest part is finding a picture of someone who even looks part Egyptian. I only found one, so I had to rely on some anime pictures for the rest. I know it's lame, but hey, that's how I envisioned her anyway. So...myeh.

From now on, unless specifically mentioned otherwise, all posts on this LJ are considered IC and ICly private. Because they're part of a journal/notebook Auset has begun to write in, as of now she is still unwilling to use a computer.

For anyone interested, I'd still like to RP as Auset, so...if you're reading this and interested in some RP, let me know. :-) Or at least let some of the other XMM'ers with LJs know this one exists. ;-)

The real fun begins.

Sat, 06 Mar 2004 04:05:22 GMT

I have to say that was one of my more enjoyable scenes, only because it was my first IC fight and all as any XMM character. Yay! Check it out for a log of what happened between Auset, Sophie, Forge, Feral, and Dimitri in Central Park. A very enjoyable read!

Central Park South
Deviating from the slightly more.../lonely/ feel of the northern sections of the park, the area here seems no less appealing to the eye, regardless. In the distance through the thick treelines of maple and oak, the skyline of New York can be seen looming. Smaller bodies of water than the Reservoir dot the green here, as do the bronze statues placed seemingly at random. The Shakespeare Garden, Tavern on the Green, Strawberry Fields, and the like of more popular 'hotspots' of the park flank to all sides.
[Exits : [Mid]town, [T]avern on the [G]reen, [S]hakespeare [G]arden, and [C]entral [P]ark ]
[Players : Sophie ]

Although spring might be just around the corner in the next month or so, Auset--aka "Tara", the "humble, modest woman from Cairo" :P--is freezing her Egyptian bum off. Curse this Ra-forsaken land of snow and ice! Still, she is bundled up in a very nice, comfortable fur coat and sitting on a bench to the side of a less busy Central Park. Although she's not moving or exploring the city for once, her eyes are always on the prowl for more information and possible...contacts.

Sophie comes out from the Tavern on the Green, one of her favorite upscale places to have a quick bite to eat, when she notices the vibrations of somebody brand new to her. Over there, sitting on a bench. Recent experiences have made her wary of strangers, but nevertheless she approaches. Curiosity kills and all that. She waves, tentatively. Hello?

Oh, but if curiosity kills the cat, by the laws of ancient Egypt there'll be Hell to pay! She blinks out of her hawkeye people-watching as an unfamiliar girl appears off to her side, near the edge of her peripheral vision; although she's not frightened at all, she must act in character: and so she jumps in her seat with a nervous smile, turning towards Sophie with, odd as it may sound, practiced clumsiness. (It wouldn't seem right for such an odd looking foreigner to truly be as calm and deviously collected as she is, and so she reacts accordingly.) She waves back slightly, asking in a heavily slurred Egyptian accent, "Hello. Do you...require something?" This time she verbally stumbles unintentionally; like the snow, she simply despises this pain of a language she must speak, even if she has known it for many years. Nonetheless, she continues to smile--however, if one were to look carefully, one might notice how the "joy" of that smile never seems to reach her eyes.

Sophie doesn't buy the helpless stranger bit, nor the fake warmth. The vibrations this stranger is sending off tell her the whole story. Between that and the body language the stranger is giving off, Sophie can read her like a book. She steps forward carefully, setting down her shopping bags to reach for the pad and pen always a part of her. "I'm sorry, I can't hear what you're saying, I'm deaf. My name is Sophie, pleased to meet you."

Auset blinks, carefully reading the message Sohpie gives her...Ack, she despises reading this useless language even more than speaking it! *Sigh*...but if only everyone everywhere spoke fluent Egyptian. Perhaps when she conquers the world ^_^...oh, but those days are yet far ahead. Auset is slightly perplexed at Sophie's reaction to her disguise: did that look mean she bought it, or not? Well, these New Yorkers are not always very easy to read...Shifting on the bench to become more comfortable, she calmly accepts the pen and begins to write. Then she remembers that she hates -writing- English even more than reading or speaking it! Arrghhh! Still, she manages to reply in a somewhat neat handwriting--she was forced to practice a lot as a child--"I am Tara. Do you need something?" Ah, yes, Tara...like 'terra', meaning 'of the earth'. She feels particularly proud about coming up with that alias herself.

Sophie shrugs. "I was just going to be friendly, but if you would rather be left alone. . . " She peers a bit at. . . Tara. "YOu don't seem very comfortable."

Auset shakes her head, and replies slowly on paper, "I did not mean that. I meant that I did not understand why you were trying to speak with me." Pausing for a moment, deciding if this conversation truly can benefit her needs for more information, she adds, "I do not need to be alone, no. Also, I am from Egypt. I am not comfortable in this--" she sighs as she subconsciously writes the word 'weather' in Egyptian, and then crosses it out and replaces it with the English "--weather."

Sophie hrms, debating. "I'm chatting because that's what I do, being a friendly person and everything. It wouldn't be very nice to just ignore you, would it?" She glances at the crossed out word. "Oh, you're from Egypt. That must be why you're having trouble with English. You can't have been here long. . . ?" she adds, speculatively. "What a season to pick. I'm from Miami myself, and it took me a while to get used to the cold weather, but now that it's march it should be warming up pretty soon."

Dimitri arrives with the sound of a bamf and a puff of purple smoke.
Forge has arrived.
Feral has arrived.

Auset replies on paper, "March? Ah...you mean...spring time? Yes, I shall look forward to that." And she shall...spring means more sand available for her powers, instead of attached to all this icy snow. And more sand means...well, more power. Already she is benefiting from this conversation. "Yes, I do have trouble with English. I know it well enough, but I greatly prefer Egyptian." And then she blinks and glances up as others appear out of...well, out of nowhere. Very odd...she especially blushes and looks away a bit as she sees Forge, and hopes that he doesn't notice her. Especially not now...well, perhaps with the disguise...

Forge does appear out of nowhere . . . clung next to Dimitri, with Feral on the opposite side, and dry-heaving like a maniac. Poor Dimitri, at least Forge has nothing in his stomach this time. Odder (for poor stomachs are a fact of life) is that the inventor is completely missing his mechanical arm.

Bamfing into the park, Dimitri has one arm around Forge, one around Feral. And he lets them both go once there, and simply falls backward onto his back. Panting. Thanks to the sleep he got, he's feeling somewhat better. But teleporting other people is always a challenge.

Feral is grumbling. She doesn't have Forge's weak constitution, and she didn't do anything to be tired, so the painfully obvious feline mutant merely mutters something quiet to her arrival companions. She's not wearing any kind of disguise, merely a one piece purple bathing suit with a burned hole over her heart showing a wound that looks a couple days old instead of the half day it has been since inflicted. Save for the injured spot, what can be seen of her is covered in thick, damp bronze fur and her long, reddish hair with its twin white streaks falls in damp waves to the base of her tail. She idly scratches her arm while with long talons while waiting for a response from either.

Sophie suddenly blinks in suprise as she sees Forge. . . and that guy from yesterday, the one Staren said was odd, along with a mutant who. . . well, let's just say she isn't exactly a housecat. Sophie shivers instinctively, as the only other cat-like mutant she's seen is Creed. She hopes they don't notice her, and turns back towards Tara, suprised again to see her blushing. "Do you know Forge?"

Well, now that she mentions it...Auset only just happens to be living in Forge's apartment, while he has been forced into some other location unknown to her...Oh, yes, she's that good. Still, it would be extremely awkward to see him again: the first time she met him, she threatened to kill him; the second time, he had tripped over her while she was lying tripped on the ice and his arm had somehow been injured. She idly wonders now if that's why he doesn't seem to have that arm? Then again, she despises all technology that is not necessary for the continuation of human life to be useless and forsaken by the Gods, so she couldn't really care much less. Smiling dryly, with a hint of humor and even a trace of smug satisfaction on her lips, she writes down, "Yes, we've...met."

Forge almost plops backward himself once Dimitri's support is gone, half because he doesn't handle teleporting well and half because he only has one arm to flail to keep him somewhat on balance. But he does retain his feet. He shakes his head at Feral, thinking of the inevitable, squirrels, and finally expands his range of vision enough to see the familiar two . . . Sophie and, although it takes him longer to recognize her, the Egyptian girl. Well, well, freaking well. If Forge could breathe better, he might shout out a warning.

Slowly sitting up, Dimitri looks at Feral and nods a bit. "I dunno.. Vhatever." And with that the purple haired mutant stands up all the way, looking over at Forge. "Vhat is vrong, buddy?" He asks, patting Forge lightly on the back. And follows his gaze over to Sophie and Auset.

Feral sniffs lightly and nods, not even offering a glance to the two unknowns before loping off at a swift pace. Her direction leads her to the trees where her pace suddenly quickens as it becomes her normal run, leap and bound through the branches and soon the feline is out of sight, heading towards someplace on the edge of the park... There's a definite sense that she'll return.

Auset returns Forge's glance with a mixture of irritation, malice, and a touch of satisfaction, she adds on the paper in a note to Sophie, "Perhaps you should leave...This does not look like a pleasant situation, and I do not think they look friendly." Try as she might, she sighs mentally as she is baffled about this girl, Sophie: either she's getting weaker, or she just doesn't feel like killing her today. Either way, this situation might turn into a small battle if either of Forge's 'friends' decide that she is a threat. But then again, she is, so she can understand why they would see her as such.

Forge's eyes narrow in response to Auset's expression. Oh, if he only had his gun . . . no, no, we're talking about the nice stun one that doesn't /generally/ hurt people. At least it makes a good threat device. "Nothing's wrong," Forge says in a . . . sadly, weak gasp. Darn teleporting. Grar. "But you might want to get a shirt on."

Buttoning up his trenchcoat, Mitri stares at Auset. Gold eyes slide over to Forge and then slide back over to Auset. "Not a very nice person, huh?" Looking back over to Forge Dimitri frowns. Reaching under his trenchcoat, Tri brings the glock out from the back of his pants and offers it to Forge. "Neh?"

After an appropriate amount of time, Feral wanders back. She's not going the same route she left, as she's carrying a paper bag. She reaches into the bag and pulls out a to-go container, handing it to Dimitri before taking the bag with her to sit on a nearby bench and pull out several more containers. She opens them and starts to eat, using her claws as utensils. Chinese food, nummy. Her's consists of mostly meat products while the one she gave Dimitri was sweet-n-sour pork with shrimp fried rice and a fork in the container. She only idly watches the goings on as she munches her dinner.

Grabbing his own box, Dimitri goes to follow Feral and eat himself. Forge and Auset are forgotten. He has Chinese Food!

Sophie, who has been furiously typing in to her TDDY cell phone all this time, finally wanders back over to Forge and blinks. A gun. Where'd that come from? She left a peaceful gathering and now. . . guns? She arches an eyebrow at Forge, demanding an explanation non-verbally.

Auset eyes Feral's comings and goings with slight concern, as she appears very capable of fighting. However, as soon as she sees Dimitri making some kind of motion to Forge alone, and with such an odd facial expression, her posture suddenly changes as she stands up slowly and carefully. Her hands move to the strap around her chest supporting the jar of sand on her back, and her eyes fill with menace. She moves a few steps away from Sophie and speaks out to Forge, "It's been a while, Forge. I suppose you don't even know my name, do you?"

Forge has a gun in his hand. Oh my. He didn't mean to have a gun in his hand. Not a /real/ gun. At Sophie's questioning glance, he smiles wanly in a 'uh, I don't know' kind of way. It occurs to him that he has no idea what Auset can do and both Dimitri and Feral have withdrawn some. And this Egyptian lady is looking at him like she might her next meal. "No, ma'am, I don't," he says, projecting his worn voice the best he can and keeping the gun kinda lax (he's not sure he can hold a gun so well in his left hand anyway).

Beginning to chomp down on his food, Dimitri mutters his thanks to Feral over his chewing and looks up to Forge and then over to Auset. "Vhat are you vaiting for, shoot her." Dimitri calls out, continuing to eat before looking over at Auset. Taking another forkful he says, "Ve could take her."

Though she may seem engrossed in her food, Feral is very much aware of what is going on around her. After all, she once made a promise to Forge and she intends to keep it. Now if Forge still remembers that promise is another thing entirely. But for now, the feline mutant seems to be completely absorbed in sticking a large chunk of beef into her mouth and chewing. After a moment, she says, "But then the food would get cold." As if that's the big decider in the situation.

Sophie begins to feel a familiar irritation. Scrawling in big letters so that everybody can see them (and I do mean everybody) she 'shouts', "Somebody tell me what's going on!" Sophie hates to be ignored, and it happens on a fairly regular basis because of her deafness.

Oohh...not necessarily a bright move. Auset's eyes narrow ever so slightly and, hidden from view behind her back, sand particles begin to slowly cloud out from the jar and ever so carefully creep their way towards Forge's hand. Of course, she doesn't mean to attack anyone...in a situation like this, with only so much sand to use and so much sun to energize her, she's at a slight disadvantage. Meanwhile, she responds aloud, "For now, Forge, you may call you Tara." No need to reveal her true name...not just yet. That is meant for a greater purpose, a significant time; this is but a petty squabble. A hand pistol poses no threat to her. "However, will you please lower your weapon?" She would add 'I do not wish to harm you', but that would not necessarily be the entire truth.

"Sophie . . . ah, I don't know how to explain . . . it's . . . it's complicated, see?" And in this somewhat high-stress situation, words are failing him. And Dimitri's insistence to shoot and the woman's insistence to put the gun down . . . well, he shouldn't be shooting someone he barely knows and hasn't hurt him or anyone, right? "Dimitri, we're not going to take her. She's just a somewhat tense acquaintance." He lets the gun drop.

Hurling food into his mouth, Dimitri growls as the gun is dropped. Standing up, though still shoveling. Tri goes forward to retrieve his gun. Kicking it back over to the bench, he takes a seat once again. "Don't vorry Forge, vhen I'm done eatingk I'll kick her ass." The purple haird Russian states.

Feral, for once, didn't do anything to atagonize anyone. All she did was arrive with Dimitri and Forge, and then go get some food. The normally ferocious Feral is merely eating, and trying to ignore the chill where the fur and skin had been fried off her the previous day. Maybe it won't be so bad once she gets it cleaned, wrapped and clothes without a revealing hole... Not that she didn't deserve having the injury, but in retrospect, maybe she shouldn't have stood so close. Anywho. Feral merely growls softly and contniues to eat until all of her food is gone and then throws the bag and containers in the trash before sprawling on the bench and licking the juice off her claws. Feral is not, for the record, laying on Dimitri. She's as far away from him as the bench will allow.

Sophie glares at the Egyptian as her vibrations start to tingle. She scrawls, hurriedly. "Forge! She's doing something!" before unlocking both wrists of her gloves and slipping them off, stuffing them in her pockets with the titanium wristbands hanging out. Forge is the only one she really knows here, and as she steps in front of him defensively, she frowns at her hands, popping her little fangs. Awww, aren't they cute. She eyes the other woman, with clear body language. "Back off."

Taking a satisfied breath, Dimitri tosses his carton into the trash as well. And follows Feral's example of taking a nap. The purple haired Russian moves over to lay partly of Feral. But then the action starts to unfurl! Yay, no more drama! This is Dimitri's part. Sitting up, Dimitri pats Feral's leg. "Hey, our turn." He motions over to Auset with his head.

Auset turns her cold glare to Dimitri, and decides to take action. Worse come to worse, she admits, she can always run away, even if it is cowardly. With eyes of steel and a voice of ice, "You shall regret that statement." And then she strikes...With a shout of power, a wordless prayer to Ra, she throws out her arms as the complete jar of sand empties itself, the empty jar itself easily slipping from her back and rolling out of her way as the sand leaps out with force. Seperating her thoughts between Sophie and the others, she begins with Sophie. Those hands look far from safe, and the fangs too: therefore, she decides to try and temporarily blind Sophie. A dense cloud of sand leaps out towards Sophie with alarming speed, spinning at a speed of a chilly wind around her face and covering her eyes. Mind you, she's not attacking her...not yet. But with her deafness and temporary blindness, hopefully she won't be a threat. Next she quickly turns towards Dimitri and the weapon, thinking first of the gun: the sand she had laid earlier also leaps up into a huge dense cloud, but this one larger. It swirls out in a miniature cyclone, suddenly condensing into a cloud of sand the size and density of a lead basketball at Dimitri's wrist with the gun, hoping to disarm the weapon from his hand. She makes no move against Feral or Forge, but is prepared to fight, the fire in her eyes burning like never before.

Forge is starting into an unsteady run toward Auset as soon as he deciphers, if nothing else, the franticness of Sophie's scrawl. He hasn't the faintest what he's going to /do/, but he does increase his pace once Auset's power becomes more than just a conjecture -- now it's a mass of flying sand and Forge, familiar with nanos, can immediately think of all sorts of horrid things the cloud can -- so he's just aiming to collide with Auset in such a fashion as to knock her down and perhaps make her drop the sand...

And the feline does nothing. Feral merely watches the goings on, though she does alter her position slightly. Perhaps just for a better angle on the unfolding scene. The feline swishes her tail, now perched lightly on the bench. Her emerald gaze blinks slowly, as if she were suddenly tired.

Watching the sand come near him, Dimitri simply ports his gun away. And sits up quickly. Quickly dissentigrating purple dust is all that is left of it. And Tri is straightning up to lay partly once again on Feral. Trying to see what she'll do. Doesn't seem he's too worried about the sand. Though he does watch it with some interest.

Sophie springs out of the way of the sand, rolling out of its trajectory and silently blessing the foresight that made her combine classes with both Nightcrawler and Wolverine this semester as she flattens herself to the ground behind Auset, where there is no sand. Crouching, and not putting her fangs into play quite yet, she lunges at the woman's knees, intending to tackle her and make her lose control.

Quickly realizing that several of the would-be attackers--like Forge and Sophie--are the only ones attacking, and that wasting her energy on the others would be just that, a waste, she quickly changes her battle plan. The dense 'basketball' turns around in the air and, instead of going towards Dimitri again, quickly rushes back between her and Forge. With a quick focused thought, the ball instantly freezes in place in midair and flattens into a thick dense shield, like a force fall--definitely something you don't want to run into, but unfortunately, it's only a few feet in front of the oncoming Forge. Not taking time to see if he runs into it or not, she spins around towards Sophie and leaps to one side to land in a semi-kneeling position, hastily summoning the cloud she had sent on Sophie before to strike at her once more. This time, as Sophie runs but a foot or two away from where Auset is know kneeling on the cold ground, Auset turns the cloud of sand into a small club-like weapon in the air and strikes sharply near the back of Sophie's head, trying to render her unconscious or at least temporarily stun her, even set her off balance. She scrambles to her feet, taking a deep breath as sweat forms on her skin from the energy required to manipulate the sand like this.

And with his current momentum and current balance, Forge can only slide right into the barrier, rib cage first. He has time to yelp just before impact with a muffled CRACK and he goes down, unable to breathe for a moment. Dah.

Feral reacts instantly to Dimitri's actoins, shoving out a palm to knock him off. She growls softly and the annoyed lashing of her tail indicates how she'd react to further attempts. She's carefully watching the actions of the dueling trio, her pupils mere slits in emerald depths as she mentally judges the actions against Forge and places them in catagories over what would qualify for her having to keep her promise. But for now, she watches with amusement.

Sophie doges the club with reflexes born of trying to get away from her teachers in class, ie, desperation! and handsprings out of the line of fire, winding up on her feet in true superhero style. But, there's sand absolutely everywhere, in her nose, in her ears, in her eyes, all over her hair and dripping off her clothes, so (not seeing Forge get whacked, and not having any loyalty to the other two), having pushed the panic button, runs blindly to the road on the edge of the Park, where a car waits to speed off with her as soon as she's closed the door.

( Dimitri falls off Feral and bamfs out before he can hit the ground. He doesn't appear anywhere nearby, so one can only assume he found something more interesting to do. ) [Spoofed By: Feral]

Auset blinks and gazes around the 'battleground', slowly but surely catching her breath. Now that Sophie seems to have run off--possibly to get back up, for all she knows--and Forge is rather...incapacitated at the moment, Auset decides to quit while she's ahead. Closing her eyes for a moment and concentrating, all her sand within half a mile radius (the edge of her limits) starts to move and quickly comes towards her in one big cloud, filling the empty jar up with itself. She takes a breath and walks over, picking up the jar and eyeing her surroundings. She makes eye contact with Feral and gives her a look of part confusion, part respect; the woman was obviously powerful and athletic, but for some reason had not chosen to participate in the fight. Neither had the other one, Dimitri; quite odd, really. With that final look at Feral, she apathetically glances at Forge once more before turning around and briskly walking away, heading off in some random direction with haste lest someone else decided to attack her while she's tired. Either way, she will not be returning to Forge's apartment tonight...time to get a new place. And with that, she disappears into the night, the chilly pre-spring wind soon covering up the echo of her feet on pavement as she walks off into this world of darkness...

Log with Forge

Mon, 02 Feb 2004 11:45:56 GMT

Whoops...Auset went and hurt Forge again. Hehe... o_O Feel bad for him, really...And, since I got kicked off the comp soon into the scene, we couldn't really do anything fantastic. Forge, I'm still hoping to expand upon this scene sometime...just thought I'd post it before I completely forget.

East Village
A significantly more Bohemian sector of New York, East Village seems to be popular all the same, with housing prices ranging from the middle to upper class amid the melting pot of ethnic groups here, even before the wave of tattooed and pierced teens during the time "Rent" was released. Though heroin dealers and drug addicts no longer mar the streets, the neighborhood has not lost it's partying appeal, even with more historical landmarks as it lies there nestled near Central Park and Tompkin's Square.
[Exits : [U]lterior [M]otives, [D]uly [N]oted, [M]cLaughlin [A]lley, [A]utumn [L]ight [A]partments, [U]pper [E]ast [S]ide, [T]he [W]hite [R]oom, [L]ower [E]ast [S]ide, and [S]o[H]o ]

Forge always has the absolutely horrid impulse to make mirrored sunglasses after watching the Matrix. Oh, he doesn't like the Matrix, technically. Finds the premise abhorrent and the viewpoint extremely biased in a mammalian . . . see, crap, he even starts thinking like Agent Smith. Dangerous stuff, that. Anyway, he's wandering East Village, his normal sunglasses perched high, considering a burger. Possibly. Maybe he'll just assimilate nutrients from the air.

Auset is stumbling through the snow in the same part of the city as Forge is, although she's currently unaware of him. Still, chance--or, as Auset would believe, the will of the gods--intervenes in its own way. Just as she's walking by Forge from the side, her shoes lose traction and she falls with a small shout of surprise onto the ice right into the path of, conveniently enough, Forge. Doh. Hopefully he won't recognize her: she has much more modest clothing on (with the exception of the same warm fur coat) and, instead of a jar on her back, she has a small jar of sand hanging from a belt around the coat.

Unfortunately, there are a few children of New York, or adopted children, or foster children, who are simply neither safe nor appropriate to trip in front of. Some would care to assault the suddenly helpless. And some simply aren't paying much attention to the ground and are fated to trip over the tripped. Forge, deep in his Agent Smith musings, is one of the latter. Recognize Auset he doesn't, he's too busy, ah, stumbling over her as he might an up-turned trash can.

Auset oofs again as Forge falls over. In the name of Set, who...? And as Forge trips, she pales in surprise as she realizes who he is. Or who she's relatively sure it is. Well, time for a new plan...it's imperative that he doesn't think she's the same person. Otherwise, it might ruin her chance of getting more information out of him. She stumbles to her feet, apologizing in a higher-pitched, sweet tone, "Oh dear, I'm so sorry...I seem to have tripped." Although she's trying to sound different, she is still worried that her heavy Egyptian accent could mistake her identity...

And as proof that he's neither in the Matrix /or/ Agent Smith, Forge ends up with his left cheek plastered firmly to the sidewalk and his bionic arm crashed against the base of a lamppost. The "oof" under him registers three long second ticks later, at which point he extracts his face from the concrete and angles his elbows under him until he's in such a position to look over his shoulder. He can't see her clearly yet, although the voice is somewhat familiar, but he rattles off an "I'm sorry . . . didn't see you, my fault entirely" just automatically. His arm is sparking in a mildly worrisome fashion.

Thanks, Forge.

Thu, 29 Jan 2004 22:13:35 GMT

Forge and I had a great scene. In fact, it was the first scene I've ever done as Auset, so I was quite excited. As I OOCly mentioned to Forge at the beginning, if you RP with Auset in the next few weeks, I might not be extremely awesome. Although Forge said I did very well. Still, it's hard to play a dominating Egyptian woman! :-P Anyway, also thanks to Forge as he's already gone and put the log on his site. Go over to xmm_forge's LJ for the log. I'm looking forward to some fun opportunities with this character! Watch out. ;-)

Testing, testing...

Tue, 27 Jan 2004 01:46:11 GMT

Hello! This is the OOC journal for Auset, an original character on the X-Men MUCK online roleplaying game.

Just to let you know, and to clarify: unless specified otherwise, this is strictly an OOC journal. This is mostly because, due to her strict upbringing, Auset believes advanced technology to be the bane of mankind's existence. Unless she comes to believe otherwise, or she learns how useful technology can be to help her devious plan, she won't learn how to use one. So there. ^_^

Also, could someone please help me find some good pictures of a beautiful Egyptian woman? I'm a little low on resources here for Egyptian characters. ;-)