Selah
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
| |
| Selah | |
| Player: @ Kimonocourtesan | |
| Origin: | Technology |
|---|---|
| Archetype: | Blaster. Dual Pistols. Energy |
| Threat Level: | 50 |
| Personal Data | |
| Real Name: | N/A |
| Known Aliases: | Selah |
| Species: | Human |
| Age: | 27 |
| Height: | 6' 0" |
| Weight: | 115 |
| Eye Color: | Silver Blue |
| Hair Color: | Platinum |
| Biographical Data | |
| Nationality: | N/A |
| Occupation: | Self-employed: owns and runs the antique shop, Finders Keepers; a Bounty Hunter/Mercenary |
| Place of Birth: | N/A |
| Base of Operations: | N/A |
| Marital Status: | Exclusive |
| Known Relatives: | N/A |
| Known Powers | |
| None | |
| Known Abilities | |
| Hand to hand combat--Wing Chun style | |
| Equipment | |
| Berreta 92sb, Chromed browning, Gerber combat knife, Cell-phone onhand | |
| Photographic memory, abhors human trafficing | |
The Past
~Somewhere in the slums of India~
"It's here," Her soft voice exclaimed.
Testing the lid, she discovered it unsealed, although the box was a bit dusty with age. Smiling with anticipation, she lifted the lid, eager to see the contents within--but instead, heard a gun cock behind her.
"Selah. Step away from the box. And keep your hands where I can see them," a calm baritone voice commanded.
Shock stilled her hand, but even worse, the immediate sense of betrayal that took her breath away. Composing herself and hiding her emotions quickly, she slowly turned to the voice and face she had come to know and trust for nearly seven months; the forgotten box still held loosely in her hands.
"Nathan." Her eyes spoke the unasked question.
His own eyes held a hint of remorse and maybe regret, but his voice hinted otherwise, revealing the greed that he had hid so well behind his confidence and his praises of her skills.
"The one thing I had not counted on was falling for you."
She listened with a stillness honed from years of practice, her gaze never leaving his face, but all the while, her mind had mapped out the room they were in; the window was behind him, the entrance door to her right and her back towards a full wall with an old standing heater to her left. At their feet were scattered old newspapers and unopened cardboard boxes, stacked and in various places. One of his booted feet was on a tattered worn rug.
The floor they stood on sagged in places, indicating years of neglect had left it weakened, possibly infested with termites. She looked to a particularly deeper sag near the wall, her thoughts hidden from her former partner, and lover.
"Had it been an act all along, Nate?" She asked calmly, her fingers tightening slightly on the box as she slowly drops one hand to hang loosely at her side.
"...Not everything--" his hand remained steady and aimed at her.
As he began to speak, Selah's trained eyes noticed a flicker of a red dot bouncing off his shoulder--she knew it would land on her before the next second ticked. As quickly as she noticed it, she dropped and rolled, tossing a small flat grenade [made to explode one-sided] to the middle of the deep sag she had noticed--it would burst on contact as she shouts in the same instance to Nate-- "Sniper!" --
She heard his last gasp in shock, followed by a thud, as his lifeless body hits the floor. A line of successive bullets hit the walls toward her position; she dives for the fresh hole without looking back, box in hand.
--Hours later--
Setting the night binoculars down, she lifts the rifle once more to use the thermal scope. After crouching another hour and seeing no further movements inside and around the house, she slowly picks her way across two streets, keeping to the shadows. Turning in a circle, she steps inside, swinging her hand in an arc. The scanner in her hand returns no indication of active munitions; pistol in hand, she heads upstairs. Stopping in the stream of moonlight, she glances down at the now empty place where Nate's body had lain,
"Goodbye." she softly says.
Eyes hardening, she lifts the scanner once more. After receiving nothing, finally--a soft beep guides her to one shell casing left unseen by the authorities. Selah picks it up gently and walks into the stream of moonlight again. One soft growl escapes her lips as she squeezes her fist around the casing--
"Malta."
