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Delta Vargas

On a plane trip to the rabbit hole.

0 · 718 views · located in Wing City Town Square

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

Groups

A brotherhood committed to the relocation of demons and other hazardous creatures. WARNING: Members are armed and extremely spontaneous.
Registered citizen of the Terran National Government

Description

Delta Vargas - Security for Hire
Human(Caucasian)
"You have two options: get your fuckin' face outta mine, or have it posted on my wall."


Image

The image does not belong to me, and is owned by ravenskar on DA. Will remove if asked.


M41-A Pulse Rifle

BASICS

-Nickname:
-Age: 22 years
-Birth date: March 17, 1989
-Gender: Female
-Nationality: American
-Racial Background: Irish, German, Norwegian

-Motivation: Long since abducted from a plane-trip with his fellow colleague, she awoke on a ship in a sterile white room where she could stare upon Planet Earth for a couple of seconds before something tapped him on the shoulder and knocked her out. She awoke on Terra, in Wing City, in the exact same clothes she began his day on Earth with. She was missing eleven days and had no memory of what abducted him and his fellow humans. Out of pure survival and a need to take his mind off the traumatic event he and his friend Delta Vargas became excellent Security-for-Hire. While Vargas tries to dismiss the abduction, Veltre does everything in his power to find out who or what did it.

APPEARANCE
”Eyes on my face, asshat."

-Hair: Pixie cut, white with dark pink streaks
-Eyes: Green
-Height: 5'6", 167.4 cm
-Weight: 128 Ibs, 58.1 kg
-Skin Tone: White
-Build: Slender
-Description: With a head of colorful hair and a labret piercing, there is no doubt that Delta has indulged in the punk style. She's of average height and slender build, with green eyes and pale skin that's easy to burn before tanning. She has full lips, a sharp glare, and no patience. Not to mention that it shows.


MENTALITY
-Quirks:
-Fears: Worms
-Likes: Herself
-Dislikes: Jacob. And aliens. And Hatchet.
-Personality: Rude, easy to anger, and feisty.

EQUIPMENT
-Armor:
-Casual Clothing:
-Carried Items:

-Main Firearm
•Name: Nexus 'Purifier' Type .45 Sidearm.
•Type: Highly modified revolver.
•Made of: Metal.
•Caliber: 45. Penetration rounds.
•Weight: A bandolier with 50 rounds weighs around 3pounds and the revolver itself is 3pounds.
•Description/Info: The Purifier has a motorized cylinder and crane, making using the revolver a lot easier than the types the cowboys that Jakob reveres. It has a blue diodes on the cylinder and iron-sight for night aiming and reloading. It supports a rail for mounting a scope, laser-sight, flashlight and Jakob's favorite distracting attachment which is called a Strobe.

-Sidearm
•Name: Customized Electromagnetic Rifle. (CER Assault Rifle.)
•Type: Electromagnetic rifle.(Durr)
•Made of: Smooth carbon-fiber stock, metal pull trigger, toughened plastic railings and titanium barrel with non-conductive battery loader.
•Weight: 9pounds.
•Description/Info: A suppression weapon, it loads a battery one shot at a time, acting like a bolt-action rifle but with batteries instead of bullets, upon firing it launches a bolt of lightning that can cause shockwaves on impact with body or ground. It's power setting can range from lethal to non-lethal and feeling like you just got hit with a very hard bean-bag. It all rather seems innocuous till a lightning bolt flies past your ear.

HISTORY
"You really wanna know?"
-Life
•Martial Status: Single
•Family:
•History: Will get to it.

So begins...

Delta Vargas's Story

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"God...dammit. I swear, Jakob."

The disgruntled voice came right through the doors, followed by a lithe young woman with the most colorful head of hair. White with pink streaks and a pixie cut, along with a labret piercing. Everything from that and her clothing screamed punk. Even her demeanor as she strut in, gawking at the mess that the alien had made.

"What the hell is this!?" she cried, looking from Jakob, to the handcuffed criminal under the counter, and back to the supernatural cat-kangaroo-thing before her. "Like, seriously? I go out for all of ten minutes and you let this shit get outta hand?" she cried.

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"It is! Look what you've done! You were sleeping, weren't you? I know you were!" the girl cried, hands patting down the length of her body for a weapon. Ah. Right. She had not been able to get new ones since the last...incident...

She reached toward Jakob slowly, eyes wide as she looked upon the hissing, puffed-up moneykangaroocatthing. "Jakob," she whispered calmly, "Gimmie a gun." She stood still, eyes never leaving the alien. She did not like the look of those teeth. She did not like it at all.

"I'm unarmored. Gimmie a gun. Now." she said again, trying to pat him on the shoulder frantically. She listened to her partner speak to the thing. "I don't think it knows human languages, Jakob. Now. A gun. Please."

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Fwack.

The flat of a clipboard thwacking you on the back of the head had to be one of the most shocking pains you'd receive from your partner. Especially if you were just relaxing and having a good time smoking weed. From behind him came this partner, scowling and furrowing her brow. "Jakob! The hell are you doing?" she scowled, extending her hand outward to gesture to the joint.

"Did you forget that we have stuff we need to order and things we need to discuss? I don't think we have everything checked off yet! And look what you're doing! God dammit, Jakob! Get your shit together!"

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"He thought he did, but he didn't." muttered the punk, eyeing him as she moved to sit on a table. She dumped herself in a seat, kicking her feet up onto the table, and slipped a pen out from under her ear. "So, we're in Wing City...that means we gotta fight a lotta shit." she began, looking down the list. She cleared her throat, then gave Jajob a glare to assure he was listening.

"Demons, vampires, zombies, werewolves, furries, aliens, spirits, ghosts, angels, half angels, mages, gargoyles, witches, summoners, prodigies, super villains, in some cases, super heroes, crazed animals, talking animals, mech suits, the people in the big factions, mad scientists monsters...and..." She furrowed her brow.

"...the fuck is pony here?"

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"No comprendo my ass! We've got to figure out how to fend for ourselves in this world! The only help we're getting is some kind of..." She waggled her hands in the air, clearly frustrated, "...compensation fund, and that's for weapons and shit, and I don't even know what we're going to need against these things! We have everything on our hands! Everything that we've known from being kids! And God, shut up about those damn aliens! They're probably lightyears away having a good laugh! We need to concentrate on this, Jakob! Here! Now!"

She had not noticed that, in her rage, she had stood up. As she calmed down, she sunk back into her seat. "So...what? Blessed weapons? Silver? Energy guns?"

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She almost stood up to yell at him again, but she digressed, passing for only a glare before leaning back into her chair, the clipboard flat on her lap as she scribbled onto it. "That sounds fine," she said, voice quieter than it had been. She was just a bit tired, and more than a bit sore. She just wasn't showing it, since her own injuries were in a place where she'd rather not be complaining about in public. Or in front of Jakob.

"I dunno how much we'll be able to get, but from what people have been telling me, we can't just get guns. Some things aren't affected by metal projectiles. They said blades and stuff would work better with those kinds. Things that are like...shades and ghosts and stuff."

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She almost stood up to yell at him again, but she digressed, passing for only a glare before leaning back into her chair, the clipboard flat on her lap as she scribbled onto it. "That sounds fine," she said, voice quieter than it had been. She was just a bit tired, and more than a bit sore. She just wasn't showing it, since her own injuries were in a place where she'd rather not be complaining about in public. Or in front of Jakob.

"I dunno how much we'll be able to get, but from what people have been telling me, we can't just get guns. Some things aren't affected by metal projectiles. They said blades and stuff would work better with those kinds. Things that are like...shades and ghosts and stuff."

(Repost)

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The punk girl put her legs onto the chair, then laid her chin on her knee. "How about I don't buy a sword - just to make sure your face stays in tact, mm?" said the woman, growling. She went back to the list. "I think both. Have a good enough variety. We'll collect as we go. Trial and error. Hopefully we don't lose a limb or a life during the trials. Especially with all the crazy shit going on here." she said.

With the room statement, she growled. "Yes! The one room flat! I have to be glad they at least gave us separate beds, because like hell I'm sharing one with your smelly ass!" she said, putting up a hand, as if praising the lord.

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"Oh, my God! I am about to kick you in the balls, mi amigo!" said Delta in overly Americanized, terrible Spanish. It was purposeful. "I don't even know why they chose us! I'm just some damn punk girl and you're some kind of...Hispanic hobo!" she spat, standing up.

"Anyway, are you gonna help me order stuff? We're doing it online, because the actual paper list could probably touch the floor of a six story building."

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"What? NO! It's some kind of online weapons shop! I can't figure out how to navigate this place at all, so we're just gonna have it delivered to us. Isn't that easier?" she asked, throwing her arms up and turning her palms toward the ceiling, shrugging.

"And hell yes, you know I'm the punk. Everybody else on the plane was either old or conservative. To hell with that! At least here, I can get whatever job I want no matter how I dress. I don't have to dye my hair something boring as all hell again." she said, making a face. No one knew what her actual hair color was. No here.

"And there's tons of weapon shops here, I bet! Look, Jakob! EVERYONE has weapons here! Where the hell you think they get them?"

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"A transformer? Fuckin' hell. They got everything here! What if we have to fight one of those? We'll need lasers and a rocket launcher. Even something like that might not do any good against it! Gaaad. First, we're just getting basics. There's a lot of vampires and stuff, so at least one...blessed...weapon? Damn, I dunno. I might get burned by one of those." she joked, cracking a smirk. It melted right back into a scowl, however.

"What kind of car you think we should get? I have no idea if they even use gas in them here. And if they do, what the hell the gas prices must be. I don't doubt some of those machines get tarnished by some kind of nature god or sommat here. Gah! Why is everything complicated!"

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Delta had already been in the bar, sitting in the corner and cleaning off her brand new AR-15. On her side was a holster with a pistol in it, and on her hip strapped a sheathed a military KA-BAR. She snapped her eyes up at the two people who had come in, raising a brow. She really did not look like security. Not even a bit. Her hair, dyed white with pink, her piercing, and even her general demeanor did not seem like something a security officer would usually have. But she was, and if anyone stepped out of line, she'd let them know it.

As she watched the two women come in, she ordered a drink, watching them closely. Looked like a harmless couple, really. She saw the kid, too, and just mentally scoffed. But then, another figure.

That vampire. He was pure sketch.

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She did not see the vampire, no, not at first, but she did spot a rather colorful, odd bat. She eyed it, raising a brow. The hell?

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Delta watched carefully as the the fattish woman began to panic at the sight of the bat, though the more delicate and younger of them was barely phased. She even inquired to it. True, Delta felt as if she had heard something, too. But it was not a strange thing, no. Not in Gambit's.

Then, several others came in. One was Drake, who she eyed for only brief moments before looking to the door. Another young man, one with his own firearms. Her hand came to rest on her machine gun, wary, though the young man did not look particularly threatening. He looked pretty docile, actually.

"Well, whaddya know...an actual crowd today."

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Delta wrinkled her nose as the redhead came in. "Dafuck?" she muttered, her hands sliding more over the machine gun as she propped it up onto her lap. Her thumb brushed the safety. First day of the job- no, second. Or so. Jakob wasn't even here. Lazy ass.

She noticed that the attention of most brought their eyes to Skald, all for the fat froggy woman who spoke to the young man. She almost cracked a smile. She really did.

The setting changes from gambits-bar to Wing City Plaza

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"Oh, for fuck's sake. As if the damn thing can't get any tighter!"

The laments of a punk women carried down the plaza, an obvious scowl upon her face as she zipped up her new suit. It was supposed to be like...new kevlar, or something like that. She really could not remember the name. She just knew it caught bullets just like the stuff but clung to her body like a second layer of skin. It was disgusting. Slick black and stretchy, it certainly looked like something more suited in the X-Men than on a security officer. She rolled her eyes and walked down the street, AR-15 in hand.

"Fuck. This. Shit. I can't believe the agency would give me something like this!"

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Delta carried her machine gun at the hip, a strap reaching around her shoulder. Most security officers on earth would have a pistol. Delta? In Terra? The machine gun might as well of been a pistol in a place filled with Superman-esque beings. Or a pebble. Ugh.

However, there were some people that could be affected by such things, and this man with the white gloves and the black suitcase caught her attention. The punk turned to him, watching him download the credits from the ATM. No doubt illegally. It was just a rule of the world: anyone with a black suitcase and white gloves had to be suspicious in some way. Logic? Not quite, but she might just be catching a robber.

First day on the job sucked. It did.

Planting a hand on one side of the ATM, Delta veered at the white-haired man. "I'm sorry. I believe you're in violation of the law. Theft ain't in the rules." she said, attempting to tap his hand with the barrel of the gun.

"Please back away."

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Delta narrowed her eyes at the. "The fuck. What?" she said, looking at her hand, then back at this lad. "I don't believe you." were her words, but she did not move her hand. "You would be panicking if that were true. Well, you could flush, too, but you're too white for that already. Ugh! Whatever! Get your damn hands off the machine! I can still shoot you with the other!" she cried, frowning. If he continued despite her warnings, she would try to kick him. In the crotch.

"You're close enough for me to break your neck, too. Rethink what you do before you start threatening me. Asshole."

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She would absolutely not take the suitcase and let it fall to the ground. She rose a brow, then reached for the front of his shirt. The machine gun hung from a strap on her shoulder, so she could do this without dropping it to the ground. "Now come here, you little punk! Disarm this now if you're telling the truth. You're awfully calm for being seconds away from death!"

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Delta's expression was flat. "I have a badge, you know. I don't think people would pull fire out of nowhere." she told him, though his tone made her doubtful. This was Wing City, the place with people who had no common sense whatsoever.

"Don't think I'm lettin' you go. I'm going to wait here until my partner comes. In face, I can call him rig-"

She paused, looking down at the walkie-talkie at her hip. Both hands were occupied. Shit.

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Delta stood still and silent for a moment, her grip tightening around the lad's shirt before she let him go. Comply for now, kick his ass later. Right.

She knelt down, picking up the suitcase slowly, all while never breaking eye contact with him. "Fine. Go on."

The setting changes from wing-city-plaza to Gambit's Bar

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"Of all the fuckin' things and they give me something skin tight..."

The grumbles of a woman from upstairs reached the bar as she walked down, the thin soles of her boots clapping onto the ground. "Oh, for fuck's sake. As if the damn thing can't get any tighter!"

The laments of a punk women were loud, an obvious scowl upon her face as she zipped up her new suit. It was supposed to be like...new kevlar, or something like that. She really could not remember the name. She just knew it caught bullets just like the stuff but clung to her body like a second layer of skin. She absolutely hated it. Slick black and stretchy, it certainly looked like something more suited in the X-Men than on a security officer. To try and help the matter she had put a black coat on over it, tied in the front. Eugh.

"Fuck. This. Shit. I can't believe the agency would give me something like this!"

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Walking right to the corner seat up at the counter, Delta used her foot to draw out a chair and plunk herself in it, a cheek leaning onto her closed fist miserably. The suit certainly did not feel like it restricted her, but it still felt like having a layer of plastic wrap tied over her skin.

Folding her legs and passing her eyes over the three men and one woman in the bar, she sighed, combing her fingers through multicolored pink-and-white hair chopped into a pixie cut.

She mumbled something, trying to figure out just who would be causing trouble today. Yeah. That's right. She was new security, too.

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The punk's eyes shot toward Dyew, a brown eyebrow stretching up. "Oh, do I look upset? I didn't know it showed so much!" she spat, tapping in an order sourly. "Everything's wrong! This world is wrong! It doesn't make any damn sense!"

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"Everything!" exclaimed the woman. She took hold of her jacket and parted it, revealing the tight skinsuit beneath it. "Like how the hell is something not even a millimeter thick stop bullets? How is it that they've hired a damn punk for a body guard? Why is it giant monsters exist here? And magic? And people and things that should have never existed in the first place!"