[All That Glitters] [All That Glitters] Zita

[Alexandra]

• Basic Information
• Background and Personality
• Characteristics
• Talents, Skills, Wounds, Fate
• Exp Log

• Name: Zita
  
  
  Sex: F
  
  
  Age:
  
  
  Height: 5'11"
  
  
  Weight:
  
  
  Eye Color: blue
  
  
  Hair Color: dirty blonde, kept short
  
  
  Distinguishing Marks: None. Zita keeps herself as unremarkable as possible, favouring a dark body glove and a cowl; any scars she carries are kept under wraps. Occasionally she wears a vest with pockets, or pouches on a belt. On a mission she makes certain only her eyes are visible.
  
  
  Home World: Scintilla; a Hive World
  
  
  Background: Outcast
  
  
  Role: Assassin
  
  
  Special Rule: Manoeuvre, type; utility, cost 1 action point
  
  
  Divination: 13 (-3 agility)
• Born in blood.
  
  
  Zita doesn't remember much of her childhood, and largely considers it unimportant now. Born in an under hive of Tarsus, Scintilla's second city, only a communal nursery comes to mind in the time before she was taken.
  
  
  Spoiler

  She was seven at the time, among a number of children taken to be experimented on, or rendered down for genetic material by a small group of well-funded Hereteks working for a larger cult. Though this knowledge was gleaned many years after. The children were taken one by one, some returned, some never seen again, and occasionally new ones added. Some of the ones returned spoke of needles, coloured tubes, and beds with straps....but others never spoke, or looked at anyone again. An indeterminate amount of time passed, and she experienced the room with the needles, like the other children described; it was a series of painful injections administered by metal men in torn red robes.
  
  
  Zita was one of the lucky ones; that was the only procedure she ever underwent. She survived the fever the shots brought on, and the day her fever broke a large explosion rang out in the building. A crumbled wall allowed her and two others still coherent enough to crawl out of the...dormitory they were kept in. Intermittent light from burning machinery was the only thing providing visibility, and they were low-born enough to recognise gunfire when they heard it. They found one of the metal men in a room they had never seen before, funneling something into an incinerator. Behind her something snapped. A guard had just broken the neck of the little girl who had made it out with her...muttered something about "the little shits escaping"...and reached for the little boy.
  
  
  The next sound was a whoosh of metal against meat, and the guard slid forward off the sword of a black figure standing behind him. Without giving the metal man a chance to react, the figure flew through the air, sword humming, and cut him down without effort. Now the sudden action has ended, she saw it was a woman, dressed completely in black; casually flicking blood from her blade. Noticing the children, standing in an ever-growing pool of blood, she squats and looks at them. The little boy promptly soiled himself, while Zita reached out to touch the only bit of face she can see under the hood.
  
  
  "Do you know who I am?" the voice asked.
  
  
  "Death..." Zita whispers.
  
  
  "Good."
  
  
  The guard it seems was not dead, and a gurgle issued from his body behind them. An arm twitched. The woman produced a small sharp blade, and pressed it into Zita's hand after removing it from her face.
  
  
  "Suffer not the heretic to live."
  
  
  Zita stood over him, and an expression she would come to be extremely familiar with briefly passed across his face before she plunged the blade into his eye. All was perfectly silent for a moment, before the little boy sank to his knees and started to cry. Then Death took her by the hand, leading her out of the room.
  
  
  Being brought to the Moritat Temple cemented her obsession with death, and with the woman who brought her there. As she grew older, she learned to associate death with liberation, and sought to survive the initiation so she could meet the woman in black again. Her superiors refused to give her a name, but she did remember other members of the team wearing what she would later come to recognise as Inquisitorial rosettes. She undertook the Travail with a view to travelling, taking the first position she found on board a rogue trader vessel.
• Weapon Skill: (25+19) 44
  
  
  Ballistic Skill: (25+11) 36
  
  
  Strength: (25+13) 38
  
  
  Toughness: (25+17) 42
  
  
  Agility+: (25+10-3) 37
  
  
  Intelligence: (25+11) 36
  
  
  Perception+: (25+9) 34
  
  
  Willpower-: (25+5) 30
  
  
  Fellowship: (25+13) 38
  
  
  Influence: (25+14) 39
• Wounds:
  
  
  Armour:
  
  
  Fate Points: (5-2) 3
  
  
  Corruption: 0
  
  
  Insanity: 0
  
  
  Skills:
  
  
  Acrobatics 2
  
  
  Deceive 2
  
  
  Evade 2
  
  
  Intimidate 2
  
  
  Investigation 2
  
  
  Navigate 2
  
  
  Observe 2
  
  
  Stealth 2
  
  
  Survival 2
  
  
  Talents:
  
  
  Evasive
  
  
  Weapon Training (chain)
  
  
  Weapon Training (solid projectile)
• Experience: 850/1250
  
  
  Agility: 150exp
  
  
  Investigation: 100exp
  
  
  Observe: 150exp

 

[Alexandra]

Partially done; more to come after I finish framing some work.