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Dorotea Senjak

Terrorist.

0 · 639 views · located in Verinotte Square

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Grahf

Groups

A coalation of Endangered species...gone terrorist.

Description

Physical Description
Image

Appearance
Hair: Black.
Eyes: Yellow
Skin Tone: Greenish yellow
Body type: Toned/Thin
Scar Tissue:
Unique Features: Her species has a distinct lack of nasal cartilage, and slightly pointed ears, making them have almost bat-like features. Most would confuse her for some form of Orc.

Name
Dorotea Senjak


Nickname(s)
The Broken, Razor, The Dance, The Voice


Race
Unknown

Visual Age
Mid 20s to Low 30s


Factual Age
Unknown


Gender
Female


Sexual Orientation
Unknown

PERSONALITY

Personality Description
Dorotea, or The Broken, is a rage filled maniac. Her home was burned- her world was forgotten, and she remains alone, last of her kind. Within her heart burns the hate of a lost empire, a lost people. Borderline psychotic she can mask her rage under a facade at times.


Quirks
-Xenophobe
-Racist
-Hateful

Fears
-Has a dislike for humans.
-Fears being lost.
-Large dogs.

Goal
Terror. The primary mission is to bring the galaxy to it's knees in terror.

Strengths
-Force of Will.
-Self Preservation.
-Her razor mind.

Weaknesses
-Bigotry
-Doesn't work well with others.
-Last of her race.

EQUIPMENT

Abilities & Skill & Combat Rating


Clothing/Armor
A special 'Blade Suit' fitted with several razor sharp blades at various spots. The suit also has added plates to cover vital points.

Combat Prowess
An expert at hand-to-hand, as well as skilled with most small arms weaponry. Larger weapons she avoids.

Abilities
Psionics: Mental abilities that most would view as pure psychic power manifest.
-Bend: Influences a subject's actions.
-Break: Removes the will of another.
-Shatter: Collapses the ID of a target, leaving a hollow shell.
-Inspire: Removes fear and doubt from a target's mind.
-Push: A physical strike of mental force.
-Rend: A physical tear with mental force.

Illusion: Bend one's perception of reality for a span of time.
-Create: Make a false object.
-Mask: Change the way something looks.
-Light/Dark: Control the level of light in a given area.


Skills
Stealth: Able to find cover in unlikely places and remain unnoticed.
Explosives: Learned in the ways of bomb making and setting.
Command: A born leader, able to think tacticaly and plan for unexpected things.
Silent Killer: The right timing and an open jugular and no one even knows she was there.

Augmenations/Mutations
Borg-Tech: A sucsessful hit that doesn't kill her negates the next same attack preformed later. A sub-dermal implant, a learning shield system. Has a memory of two hours.


Equipment
-Various bomb making suplies.
-An array of knives.
-Bag of Holding.

Stats (40 pts max)
STRENGTH: 3
WILLPOWER: 8
AGILITY: 12
DEXTERITY: 6
TOUGHNESS: 4
INTELIGENCE: 7


HISTORY


Bio/History

The last of a lost species- her homeworld burned to cinders. No one is quite sure how she managed to survive, maybe her parents pulled a Superman and shot her off into space, or maybe she was sold into slavery. Either way she grew up rough, and she isn't talking about it. Seeking to bring the galaxy to it's knees she has embarked on a quest of terror- seeking to cause the most pain and suffering as possible.
No illusions cloud her mind, she doesn't 'seek vengance' against those who have done her wrong. No, she just wants to watch worlds burn. See the fear and anguish on the faces of the populace. She just wants someone to hurt as much as she did. To these ends she uses her natural psionic abilities to turn mild mannered people into suicide bombers, she takes children hostage..only to leave micro-bombs implanted for a later suprise. Dorotea is simply an evil bitch.

So begins...

Dorotea Senjak's Story

Setting

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Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak
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#, as written by Grahf
Dorotea Senjak He felt the whisper, always there..behind his eyes..pushing, prodding. He felt the weight, the packs against his skin, hidden by the large coat and baggy clothes. Her voice had made him strap it all on, minding the wires..always careful with the switch. 'No accidents, not yet' she has said in his head. Maybe it was the blood-hunger, he hadn't fed in so long, maybe that was what had made him weak against her call. All he knew was she was in his head..and he had to do what she said. ANYTHING.

She saw through stolen eyes, two pair...though neither knew of the other. It was for the best- one might be stopped, but not both. There wouldn't be time for that. She would just wait, and watch..well away from the area..and direct things with her own special brand of irony.

His hand shook slightly, grasping the handle for the door, nerves were bad. Anyone's would be. Entering the bar, his pale skin slightly damp with sweat- fangs easily visible due to hunger. He would take a few steps and pause...he didn't want to do it, but her voice was a whip..driving him onward a few more steps to the bar.

Setting

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#, as written by Grahf
Dorotea Senjak He would wait, and grip the dead-man switch tight in his fist. Her voice would tell him when, he just had to wait. The strain made him want to just scream..but he couldn't he already knew the pain he would feel if he did something she didn't want. Had felt it a few times already. Silently he sent a prayer to whatever god these people worshipped. It was all he could do.

The other man returned to his seat, moving from the restroom. He sat and laughed, like he was supposed to, the blonde waiting at his table had said something pointless, but the voice had commanded a laugh. He didn't disobey. The vest under his clothes was heavy and felt wrong...but it was hidden perfectly- the woman clinging to him just thought he was packing a gun; she thought it made him exciting. She had no idea.

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#, as written by Grahf
Dorotea Senjak He stood, and turned to face the others in the bar, the words bubbling out of his mouth "For too long, we of the Vankoryth Detente have suffered under the tyranny of the oppressing humans" he had no idea what the Vankoryth Detente was, but the voice in his head had a grip on his tongue, what came out of his mouth was her words...he was just along for the ride. "Today the hammer of rebellion shall be raised high, and brought down on the yoke! Freedom or death, we will have our stand!" The dead-man switch would be raised high, fist clenched.

The other man waited, his own trigger clenched under his table. The reaction of the crowd would dictate his next action. The voice in his head told him to be ready...so he would.

Outside she smiled, in her own hands was a master trigger...should those two fail...she would detonate the bombs herself.

Setting

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#, as written by Grahf
Dorotea Senjak Dorotea would giggle, these idiots were too busy flirting and boozing to even notice the bomber. Like ONE person said something, and it wasn't even that much of a complaint. See, the bombs were anti-personnel, not anti-building. The sixteen thousand ball bearings stuffed throughout the explosives would do more damage than the fire. Though that would still hurt a bit too.

The first man would shake his head, and release a breath....as his fingers uncurl from the trigger. The spring would pop, expelling the pin. The blast would shatter the air, a ball of fire reducing the bomber into a flaming chunk of flesh. The balls of steel spreading into the air and sailing towards the groups scattered through the bar area.

The other man would release his trigger as well, sending a second wave of death and fire spreading through the room. Both bombs exploding would surely be noticed...though...with these idiots...it was hard to say.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak
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#, as written by Grahf
Dorotea Senjak From outside the bar the two explosions were just muffled thuds. The job was done, she could no longer see through the two men's eyes. This was just the beginning, but the rest could wait. She figured this earned her an ice cream. Maybe even a sundae. Oooo with sprinkles. She would rise and begin walking from the area...

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Wing City Town Square

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak
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#, as written by Grahf
A swarthy man in a light grey business suit wandered into the area, his neatly cropped red hair spiked slightly with gel. A pair of expensive sunglasses kept the light from bothering his eyes much, but they had an added feature- perfectly controllable HUD layered over his real-time sight. With these he tracked movements, the gathering at the auction and the stragglers moving away, either bored or broke. This place would do fine. "Dorortea, bring in the package." he muttered into his Vox-Caster.

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Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak
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#, as written by Grahf
A school bus pulls into view, stopping at a designated Drop Off Zone. In moments there are about a dozen little kids pouring off, each wearing a backpack and holding a lunch box. No one would remember those facts though, except maybe the police or fire department workers who had to sift though rubble later. They would have a hard time forgetting. It was the small details that were the worst. The kids moved to the crosswalk and waited, as the crossing guard picked up her little stop sign and whistle- Dorotea sent a wink at Pandemic as she began to usher children across the street.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak
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#, as written by Grahf
"Leave corpses and questions. I want this on news papers" he smiled, and turned on his heel, wandering off. He had the utmost confidence in Dorotea's abilities. Her attack on Gambit's had claimed a few lives, and spread anti-inhuman thoughts deeper into the masses. This was just the next step. "A shame about the auction, they had some nice baubles..."

His HUD changed, an countdown had begun.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Eliott Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman
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#, as written by Rulke
With sheer delight he surveyed the scene and continued to play them all, "Nine hundred and fifty from the mohawk gentleman once more, wow I think this has become personal. Do we hear one thousand, one thousand I am sure so many of you could join in and get this wonderful piece of ancient Greco equipment and apparently forged by Hephaestus himself for the King of the Olympus, do I hear one thousand or am I breaking your banks." he sneered.

The man turned to the mohawk gentleman, and sighed, "Very well lout, I say make Fifteen hundred and I will be sure to speak highly of you to my high class friends. What you say auctioneer?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Eliott Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman
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#, as written by Edelle
Standing rigidly, he crossed his arms. "Ohhh that is-" Cyril fumed, clenching his jaw, "Seventeen 'undred! And yeh can tell yer high class wankers that I'm not a bleedin' LOUT!" He was determined now, price be damned. Once something like this caught his eye, it would generally come to blows if he couldn't have it.

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Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak
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#, as written by Grahf
The kids laughed and played, some of them remaining behind at the sidewalk in groups of two and three- others even wandered towards the auction crowd, seeing parents or familiar faces there. Dorotea didn't mind, the largest clump was still blocking traffic, a few trailing a bit due to a buddy messing with his shoe. The timer on her wrist was racing.

Holding the stop sign up she glared at a driver who looked like he was tempted to nudge his way out and into the stream of children. He stayed put, something in her eyes said it was a bad move. Her attention shifts, noting the arrival of what looked to be a high-roller, this was getting better and better.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Luke Sullen Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Eliott Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman
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#, as written by Rulke
"Oh my, Fifteen thousand, we are going into thousands people are you willing to lose this chance for the genuine I say genuine Shield of Zeus that Perseus had, are you willing to for eighteen hundred, say sixteen thousand just imagine what your friends will say, showing it off and declaring how last person to wield this was son of a God, just imagine and go on bid up the price eighteen hundred."

The man from before glanced rather annoyed, "Nineteen thousand, I think we can all agree the lager lout rentboy should not even touch or smear his hands over such a piece. I imagine the very idea is disgusting to you all, why not we deal in proper way nineteen hundred and I will offer you a place at my next banquet." he pulled out few bills and held them up, as if to indicate his goal.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Eliott Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman
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#, as written by Edelle
"Fift- Fifteen.... Fifteen thousand pounds are you- are you kidding me? Really?" Cyril cried out in exasperation, somewhere between a shout and a growl. "No! No no no! This is ridiculous! I honestly can't believe this." He paced around in circles, throwing his hands in the air. He snarled, pointing to the art gallery owner. "This is your fault! I hope your happy because now neither of use get it you- you-" He gave up on words and punched the man squarely in the nose, before storming off to the other end of the street. What good was he as a chaos demon, if he couldn't even cause a little havoc at an auction?

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman
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#, as written by Grahf
He paused, about a block and a half away- yet still watching through the eyes of his agent- "Fuck the timer. Kill switch, I want the high score..that guy with the high bid must be important. You know the drill..max damage. Go for the nuts and make the country cry." Pandemic smiled, bought a flower from a vendor and resumed walking along.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pandemic Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak
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#, as written by Grahf
She got the order, and nodded. It was time. No one noticed when the woman walked away- because to the naked eye she was still there. The illusion stood, holding the sign, and gesturing for the kids to cross. All anyone would see was a new child skipping off into the distance. She would easily pass the group, and duck into an alley...

At that moment one of the children tugged at her mother's sleeve, tears welling up in her eyes. "The lady said it wouldn't hurt..but it's so heavy!"

Confusion, the woman knelt down and opened the girl's pack...and saw the canisters. She didn't even have time to scream as a remote trigger sets off the bombs held in each child's bag- the lunch boxes stuffed with ball bearings; this made each of the 12 children into walking claymores. Flowers of fire and blood blossom into being..flames, scraps of metal and screams fill the air as the bombs send death into the crowd.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Luke Sullen Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Eliott Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman
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#, as written by Rulke
"Well, I do believe we have a winner, going once, going twice---" suddenly there was a sound of screaming and horrific torment as there was utter chaos in the square, bodies were strewn everywhere, and their people crying out and begging screaming as their limbs lay mutilated. Blood soaked the square, and every was running about, many people trying to rush and collect anything. Meanwhile Randolph had been about to hand the shield over, but was thrown back, the shield was slung in the air and started heading towards the inner streets.

People were crying out as they gripped their bloodied limbs and try to stem the flow, meanwhile already paramedics and such were hurrying to try lower the amount who died. But it was clear already, except for couple children, one of two, most were either dead of fatally injured.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Luke Sullen Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman
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#, as written by Zarhara
Explosions turned the scene into chaos, something grazed Lukes arm but before he could even process what was happening tow of his guards tackled him and cover him. The others were on the ground two were dead three wounded. One screamed into a radio. Thats when the squeal of tires could be heard. One of the armored vehicles. drove into the square many rolled out of the way a few dead were run over. The doors opened and Luke was thrust inside. The back of the vehicle was slapped by a guard and it sped away. the tow others joined it as the turned off onto the streets of wing city.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sarah Locheart Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman
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the sound of sirens echoed as the Fire Department arrived on the scene. "My god!" Shouted Sarah as the fire trucks screeched to a stop and the brave Fire Fighters poured out of the vehicles. "Get hoses on those fires, and get the wounded out of the way if possible! We have to gain control fast!" Sarah shouted stepping out of the lead vehicle. This quick response was Exactly what they had been training for. "Lets get to work people! We have lives to save!" Sarah shouted once more, with a look of seer horror in her eyes, How could anyone do this. She thought to herself as she lent a hand to the other fire fighters.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Luke Sullen Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Eliott Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman
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#, as written by Edelle
Cyril's vision was blurry and his ears were ringing. It took him a moment to remember how he had gotten to his current sprawled position on the street. There had been an explosion, noisy and smoky. Screams flooded the air, and the chaos demon stood up. Absolute carnage. He slumped against a wall, letting out a gasping, sickening chuckle.
"Humans!" He yelled, to no one, "Gotta love humans! All the demons in the world trying to cause a little havoc, and it's humans that really do the damage." He saw a glint in the corner of his eye. He shuffled over to it, pushing through throngs of terrified people who didn't know what they were running from. Proudly, he picked up the shield, kissing the shining surface. "Ohhh, love. We were meant to be together." He took it into an alley, and that's when his head started to throb. When he reached up to grasp his aching head he felt something- slithering? He dropped the shield in stunned horror.
"No no no!" He yelled, kicking the shield away, "Cursed piece of shit!" His hands went to his head again, his once platinum blond mohawk had been replaced with a writhing line of snakes protruding from his skull. He sunk down against the wall of the alley, head in his hands.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Luke Sullen Character Portrait: Alissa Bowen Character Portrait: Dorotea Senjak Character Portrait: Cyril Partridge Character Portrait: Randolph Pickman
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The Ambulance carrying Alissa Bowen arrived on the scene with a rookie EMS and stopped as the two rushed out to aid anyone they could. "Get the medical bags! We'll need them all!" Alissa ordered her rookie partner, but the sight of a dismembered and half burnt corpse stopped him dead in his tracks causing his stomach causing him to vomit all over himself, "Don't get Squeamish on me now, Rookie!" Alissa grunted, heading over to a man who's leg was violently removed int he explosions. "You're gonna be alright you hear me." She said to him in a calm and warming tone. "Where's those Medical bags Rookie!"