Homid Description: Clinks of metal against metal as she walks, hanging from a chain at the side of sandblasted and bleached jeans, a ring of keys. The faded grey of these jeans, the tarnished buckles along the legs, the poking out of white k-swiss with slight brown stains along the soles tell she's been somewhere. A loose leather jacket almost engulfs her, it's back marked by the rat done in japanese brushstrokes surrounded by a crown of fire in more of a mexican style. Her usual black undershirt is draped by loose weave mesh in olive green tones. Fingernails still bitten down, rings and studs still in both ears and brow, all those are the same as usual. Her hair's been shorn short again, despite her attempts at growing it out. except for those long strands of bangs and earlocks. The tips of her hair have been dyed pink, very pink.... Horrible scars run down the left side of her face, also missing the brown eye, and her namesake, the domino one over two, is tattooed on her neck. Rodens Description: One of its eyes is a strange, whitish grey, along with a patch of missing fur on that side of it's face. A small piece of metal wire is pushed through the right ear. The coat is a dull brown, with spots of white throughout as if it'd gotten into a bleach rainstorm. The tail is nearly the rat's length and a half, usually curled up tight around the body. Ethnicity: Japanese Age: 19 Birthdate: November 22, 1985 Birthplace: Osaka, Japan Height: 5'2" Weight: 102 Hair: Brown Eyes: Brown Rat form Str: 1, Dex: 5, Sta: 5 Alertness: 3, Brawl: 2, Dodge: 3, Stealth: 3 Attack: Bite: Str Lethal Health: -1, -5

"domino" Ichii Noni Game: UNMOD Tribe: Nezumi Auspice: Leaf (Tunnel Runner) Breed: Homid Element: Fire Nature: Visionary Demeanor: Rebel Rank: 1 Totem: Raven ENCHANTED Attributes Str: 2/3/1, Dex: 3/7/5, Sta: 3/5/5 Cha: 2/0/2, Man: 3, App: 2/1/2 Per: 3/4/6, Int: 3, Wit: 4 Abilities Alertness: 3, Athletics: 2, Brawl: 2, Dodge: 3, Primal-Urge: 2, Streetwise: 3, Subterfuge: 1 (2) Drive: 3, Firearms: 2, Mechanics: 1, Melee: 2, Stealth: 2, Survival: 4 (7) Computer: 1, Enigmas: 1 (2), Linguistics: 1 (English, Japanese - native), Medicine: 1, Rituals: 2 Backgrounds Contacts: 1, Fetish: 1 (The Lost Keyring), Rites: 3, Totem: 4 (Raven) Gifts (1) Cloak of Shadows, Cooking, Danger Sense, Mother's Touch, Stash Cache Rites Rite of the Bolthole, Rite of the Crash Space, Rite of Talisman Dedication (2) Renown Glory: 2/0, Virtue: 0/3, Wisdom: 1/4 Rage: 4, Gnosis: 5, Willpower: 4 Merits/Flaws Adrenaline Addict -2 Pack Rat -3

Background:
     This man. He haunts my thoughts, my dreams. Although he means so much to me, probably the center of my life thus far, I can't wait to see him dead.

     I lived in a normal town, with not-quite-so-normal parents. Father was a Skulker, mother was kin. I being the oldest, went through the Infection first near my 12th birthday.

     It lasted for months, not days, not weeks. Something in my body was having trouble taking to the gift given to me. While I was taught Gifts and how to harness my animal side, I still went about everyday life. But I was weak, and that's how they were able to take me.

     Men captured me on my way back from school, took me with them, kept me drugged in a little back room. They soon found that the drugs wore off of me quickly when they returned one night to find me out of the shackles on the wall and about to pull the grate to the ventilation system off. The dosages were increased, and I remember very little of that time afterward. Other girls must have come in, stayed there, were taken away again, because I remember hearing crying, a sad sound even though I had no tears to shed of my own.

     Then the man came. He knew, he knew there was something more to the small girl that resisted the sedatives and shed no tears. An old woman gave him an amulet, something to seal my rage, contain my impressive power into something easy to manage. As his house's mark was branded onto my shoulder, a sign of purchase, a sign that I could never be sold again to another house, the ring was slipped around my neck and has never come off since.

     Sure, I've tried, gods know I've tried, but it remains there, more damning than the moon mark pressed into my back. And so, suitably dociled, I was taken to the family estate, hidden in one of the many servant quarters, told to wait. Wait I did, until I found the ventilation system again and was soon again in it. I didn't leave the house, no, that would've been too soon to try that, and I always returned to my room after my visits.

     I spied on the entire house through that metal corridor, the family mostly. A family headed by that man, it was as cruel as my bondage. Not quite 13, I wanted to go to them, wanting the support of others, anyone. When I finally did go to them, it was to the eldest son. As I crept from the ventilation shaft toward his room, one of the guards caught me, wrestled me to the ground and brought me back to the servant quarters.

     Fingers broken, nails pushed through muscles, light tortures on a creature he could still make good use out of. It took a while for the injuries to heal, but the lesson was learned, stay away. Once the healing finished, it was my turn to serve him.

     A competitor, not him personaly, but his family was made to suffer. A bomb placed in the restaurant they were eating in. The trick was to let him see the device before it exploded, also, to give him just enough time to escape, or to save his family. Escape he did, leaving his wife and their unborn child behind. That selfish bastard! Running through the kitchen where I was hiding, I just made it into the dining hall when it exploded. That's how I got the scar. Despite it, my job was well done, the competitor was ruined, paranoid for the rest of his days about other bombs, and his family line ending with him. A victory for the Honored Father.

     This continued, and I became more docile to him. Always alone, when I was with others, I could hardly think to defy him. Just to soak in the sound of others breathing, moving, talking. I never went further into the family quarters than his study, where he told me the details of my missions for him. It was while I was waiting outside of the side door to his study that I heard it happen.

     The daughter was to leave for the States. After she left the study, I was then instructed to follow her, to watch her, to not contact her in any way. Then I was sent after her, out into the great wide world.

     This was almost five years after my first capture, a bit disorienting to say the least, since most of those five years were spent in that house, mostly in my room. It's taken some while to get used to it. The daughter knows of my existence, that I'm somehow tied to her family, and the sweet girl wants to rid me of my ties to him. I've also made some friends, it took a long time in making. My social skills had fallen, tinged more than slightly with bitterness at what happened to me, but now it comes naturally.