Name: Rapid Rush [Makes use of the alias “Heat”]
Appearance: Slightly aged adult mare, average height. Short, bright, multicolored mane. Bright neon blue coat. Tends to wear sport coats and jackets, but temperatures over sixty degrees F will typically cause her to shuffle off all non-essential clothing. Rarely speaks, but has a fairly expressive body language, and grasps understanding language and speech without too much trouble - when she isn't hallucinating.
History: Honestly, it's all kind of blurry, she assures them all. What she knows is that she's different now. She woke up one day in the hospital - there were men and women in white all around, and another couple of ponies who weren't dressed at all. They looked pretty sad, and when the man in white told her she didn't have long, they started crying, making such painful noises.
Rush wasn't completely certain why. They seemed familiar, but far from relevant. Some sense of self awareness filled in the facts for her, here and there, when she really concentrated. She'd fallen before she got there, once, moving, unable to stop moving, unable to keep breathing. She bit her tongue and tasted iron, but pain wasn't quite registering properly. Nothing really was. She was pretty sure colors weren't so bright before. Pretty sure she could think straight before.
But now they were, and she couldn't.
Terminal cancer of the brain, they said. Inoperable, they said. Buried far too deep to do anything for. A year or two, maybe. Her brain was sick, very sick, and that was all she could really internalize, with alien thoughts, some of which had no real meaning, buzzing around in her skull like a swarm of violently angry bees. Soon enough, she found herself violently angry, too. She wouldn't live long. She certainly wouldn't live very happily, she realized over the next week she spent alone, uncertain of where the ponies not in white had gone. They didn't come back for her. And in some way she wasn't entirely certain of, all this made her violently angry, too.
In fact, she was kind of angry at everything. She didn't get it. She didn't even quite get why she felt so hateful and twitchy these days. Probably her brain, she reasoned. But it didn't matter. She was going to die.
She wouldn't mind having some fun first, experimenting with these urges. It didn't matter to her anymore who she hurt, or who died, or what happened to her, either. She'd be dead anyway, before long. No one could hurt her, punish her, make her fear anymore. And no one...no one could stop her. She was certain of that, too.
Civilian Details: She once was a mare. She may have even had a child. Could you tell, really?
Pain and temptation no longer register half so sharply in Heat's damaged mind.
No holding back - Heat's absolute speed and strength are her greatest assets, as a result of her very easily triggered adrenal glands, and she is not afraid to make use of it.
Although not much for computers besides essential use in her previous comfortable lifestyle, Heat's memory and sense of logic are no longer reliable enough to handle even the most basic of calculations or exploitation.
Aside from the downright sunning neon color scheme, Heat, to put it simply, feels no need to hide from much of anything. Perhaps she is hoping something will find her, one day.
Animalistic, brutal, and violent to a degree not entirely possible for most ponies, Heat's capability to hurt and kill people is a primary nature to her in her damaged and stripped mental state.
There's a look in her eye - the look of a mad mare, the look of a psychotic predator, always looking for the next kill. It doesn't help she's most certainly the quiet type.
Clearing jams, piecing things back together, picking locks...none of these even occur to the mare anymore.
For all the damage to her brain the cancer has caused, she isn't quite blind, deaf, or "dumb" yet.
Adept Power: 0
If she can't kill it, it probably isn't going to die.
Animal Mask Killer: 4
For all her immense, unfathomable raw strength and speed, Heat is just a mare, and a comparably fragile one at that. One or two good shots...And she will find peace.
Atlas PPV (500)
Mayfly Repeater (1000)
Hayshimoto Bed Roll (250)
Last edited at Wed, Apr 8th, 2015 20:16