Sand

Tsavo staggered. He demanded, "What have you done?" He fell like a marionette whose strings have been severed. Sand said bitterly, "I've destroyed us." She stoppered the vial. Inside, something roiled like inky vapors.

Sand xxxxxThe long waterproof raincoat is the utilitarian sort favored by sailors. Hers is a hand-me-down faded to a pale brownish gray. Under this, she has a sleeveless men's undershirt, and old army surplus pants well on their way from olive drab to greenish pale gray. A "fanny pack" of black cloth is slung around her hips. A silvery flashlight with a loop of steel chain is clipped to her belt. xxxxxHer skin is a Latin American light brown. Hard work has put muscle bumps on her slender arms. She's on the slender side of average, and has very little in the way of a bosom. xxxxxSo what about her face? There's a streetsmart wariness, there, an outright wildness, on a squarish face with slanting eyebrows. An odd scar starts above her right temple, going downwards to the corner of her jaw, small branches coming off of it. Her dark hair has grown out to almost shoulder length. Her eyes are almond-shaped and prominent, with gray irises. She rarely smiles but when she does, it's dazzling. General Overview xxxxx'Sand'. It's the sole name on her ID, her legal name. Government records have her as a retired soldier for the British Navy. Her most recent assignment was across several nations in Africa, where a war with a death toll surpassing that of World War II has waged for generations, with the Western world still looking the other way. She was honorably discharged, but with an order to receive psychiatric care. xxxxxProspect should have been a place of healing. To Sand, it has only been a place of false friendships. Often, the supernaturals only have a care for those they believe can somehow grant them prestige or power, and be their servitors. With few exceptions, they earned her contempt. Far better to spend time with the mortals now: Their hearts are pale and empty but they hold no ulterior motives on a par with those of the supernaturals. Conversation Starters She's a closed book. A faintly hostile one with a really boring-looking dark spine. Do I know you? If you're really old, you might have met Sand in one of her previous lives. If you suspect your character and Sand might have met, we can briefly go through an "Orical" check. Lifestyle Contact Juggler xxxxx She can be seen on the boardwalk at night: a mirthless jester performing contact juggling with several plasma balls. On occasion, she performs some close-up magic effect of the sort Harry Anderson made famous though they were already ancient in Moses's time. Other pics. (thanks, Garan!) http://www.cityofhopemush.com/wiki/index.php/File:Sand-Gift.png http://www.cityofhopemush.com/wiki/images/thumb/1/18/Sand-Gift2.jpg/426px-Sand-Gift2.jpg Epilog "Rib a-ba", the River of Fire in the Sky, is a mysterious storm at the mouth of the Catatumbo River. It has been worshipped by the natives since time immemorial as a majestic guardian of a gateway between life and death. Today it is mainly seen simply as a natural phenomenon, a bizarre quirk of weather. Yet, humanity will apparently never be free from the powerful impulse to assign it an anthromorphic existence. Perhaps it is wishful thinking, that something in the universe as primordial as an eternal lightning storm could actually care about beings as transient and tiny as the talking monkeys of earth. [1] Sand is a perfectly good Sand. Apparent Age: 25 Demeanor: Autist Occupation: Contact Juggler Charisma: ●●○○○ Manipulation: ●●○○○ Appearance: ●●●●○