You know where to find meHOW YOU FOUND US:
Bitch, you found meOTHER CHARACTERS ON THE SITE:
Riva, Aingeru, Squirrel GirlRULES CODE:
Are you for real?CREDIT WHERE IT'S DUE:
My cerebral cortex. The temporal lobe. MY MENDULA OBLONGATA
CHARACTER INFORMATIONBASIC INFORMATIONCANON OR ORIGINAL:
Kitty Cat, Pretty Kitty, Jaguar Girl (Buford I will kill you in your sleep!)CURRENT AGE:
Assumed to be around 24DATE OF BIRTH:
Unknown. Passage of time marked every January 1.MARITAL STATUS:
HeterosexualBASE OF OPERATIONS:
Various safe-houses scattered about the New England area; and of course, she shows up at the Brotherhood Headquarters at Coney Island whenever it strikes her fancy.TIME AT INSTITUTE:
Camaguey, CubaKNOWN RELATIVES:
Dark BrownDISTINGUISHING MARKS:
Retractable claws, elongated canines, a tail… nah, those are totally normal among the human population.CLOTHING STYLE:
Jara’s preference in clothing blends femininity with practicality. Nice jeans or slacks with a pair of height-adding boots and a pretty blouse will do (made of natural organic materials, of course) her day to day wear more or less running along those lines. At no time will she wear anything worn-out-looking or messy—she’s rather particular about her appearance. However, her boutique finds take a backseat as far as work is concerned. UNIFORM:
Obtained from SHIELD surplus and slightly corruptible contacts within their manufacturer, she owns a very basic combat suit, reinforced enough to withstand knife damage and low-caliber bullets. Any extra armoring would result in a bulky hard-to-move-in mess. Since Jara prizes her agility, she has made sure her uniform is as light as possible. Made of Kevlar, its carbon composition can be absorbed into her body during shapeshifting, much like her daily wear. No streaking around naked for her.POWERSGENERAL DESCRIPTION:
Her powers are animal-based. The most prominent is her shapeshifting, acquiring the form of a jaguar and anthropomorphic states in between. As a human, her strength, senses and reflexes are very enhanced, matching that of the jungle cat. This has been honed through extensive training.
Bloodlust: In the presence of blood, Jara enters a psychotic state, signaled by a change in eye color (green to gold) and pelt (spotted to melanistic). Her animal persona takes over completely, driven by the principle primordial factors. Hunt. Fight. Kill. Eat. Jara is a known cannibal, so her bloodlust is nothing to laugh about. Her strengths increase, pain registers less, and she displays an increased resistance to telepathic attack. Until she satiates her hunger or the trace of blood disappears, her bloodlust will not leave. She will continue fighting until she dies or is rendered unconscious with a strong enough concussive force, telepathic or otherwise.WEAKNESS:
In her sane state, Jara is very vulnerable to psychic attack. Her strength is not super-human, either. If unconscious, Jara does not retain her animal state and reverts to human form. And of course, there are those fits of psychotic rage and her cannibalistic palate to take into consideration.PERSONALITY
Jara is an… interesting person, to say the least. From the psychological standpoint, she suffers from paranoia. She is under the constant impression that someone is out to get her, allies waiting to betray her. However, she doesn't voice these suspicious, preferring to keep them to herself and plotting means of taking the people she associates with down if the need ever arises. This view of others doesn't keep her from socializing, however. Jara is very verbal and talkative, her speech and mannerisms likable, choosing her words carefully when conversing with people. Her insight in regards to body language and emotions is extremely keen and usually accurate. Given her chosen profession, it's in her best interests to know how to read people. The pheromones they release in different emotional states also helps and gives her an idea of what's going on in their heads, from there employing her own tact and guile for her manipulations.
However, Jara's not always such a charmer. She has a sharp tongue and a cocky, sarcastic attitude that’s brought her more trouble than anything. She's a proud creature, quick to fight and defend her good name, or whatever she calls it, if someone pushes her. Hers is a combative personality, belligerent and challenging. Jara absolutely adores picking fights—at least, with those she is confident are weaker than her. Which is almost everyone. She is highly capable of changing her mood and demeanor, making the transition from the engaging conversationalist to a cold-hearted killer instantly, especially when she has a goal in mind.
Despite her social skills, Jara will not hesitate to employ force in achieving her agenda. No matter how amicable or beguiling she may seem, in fact, she sees people - mutant and human alike - as little more than cattle, existing only for the slaughter. Perhaps she is truly evil, or amoral, or irrevocably mentally skewed thanks to the feline instincts constantly murmuring in her head. Don't think she loses any sleep over it.HISTORY
Delivered by a midwife at her parents' house, government authorities heard word of the strange parents and the pregnancy. They raided the house, located in the isolated Cuban countryside, seeking to capture the three. In the process her parents resisted and were killed, the nameless infant taken alone and integrated into a bio-engineering program established by the Soviets decades before. Seeking to create soldiers not for open combat but for covert purposes, they hoped to manipulate the mutant gene and turn those individuals with it into obedient soldiers trained for espionage, sanctioned secretly by the Cuban regime and carried out by former-Soviet officers.
The majority of candidates chosen for the program were mutants with physical-based powers. Shapeshifters were preferred, since the ability to switch appearances and identities at a whim would be more than useful in the field. However, the factors for shapeshifting are unpredictable, genes unstable and surprisingly difficult to manipulate into another genetic signature. So instead, they focused on training candidates, conditioning them with countless stress tests, simulations, combat practices and such at the earliest age possible, then sending them out into the field at their discretion. There were also trials conducted to build resistance to telepathic attack and infiltration among its subjects.
But the girl, like many, did not take well to the procedures. Rather than build resistance, it exacerbated her weakness and triggered a new reaction of her mutant powers. Since almost birth, researchers knew that the female child was a shapeshifter, jaguar to be precise. Predatory instinct seemed to be present, but with the telepathic trials, this mindset was brought to a higher, though not exactly desired, level.
The telepathic interference causes a great amount of distress in the girl’s mind, and to escape it, much of her mental processes shut down, leaving only the animal state, motivated by the basest of instincts. Fight. Kill. Eat. Survive. Which translated into a very violent, very powerful changeling with a taboo taste for human flesh. Researchers found out the hard way, as she shifted into her dark state and broke from her restraints with near super-human strength and killed their telepath. In attempts to tame this feral aspect of their subjects mind, researchers attempted to find other outlets and replacement triggers for the transformation—the blood of assigned targets, for example. They only succeeded in adding catalysts for the disastrous change. Her mind slowly became unstable, the human, reasoning part of her brain competing with the savage animal part for dominance.
As the years progressed, she became too much to control. But rather than destroy her, her caretakers had a telepath wipe out her memories of her stay within the program, not at all pleased with having years of research snubbed out without at least further experimentation. A few replacement memories were implanted, but the entire process was careless with little attention to detail. Communist craftsmanship, of course. Soon after, she made her first legitimate appearance in the world, a young teenager appearing at the doorstep of a state orphanage in the province of Camaguey by the name of Jara Montenegro. At first quiet and reticent, she socially developed at a fast rate, studying her fellow wards and quickly adapting to their personalities and adopting a few for her own.
At some point, Jara disappeared from the orphanage, falling off the map for a few years. She reappeared Stateside at the age of 15, under the tutelage of a Miami-based businessman, the founder and head of an import/export company. This was the front for a weapons dealing ring he ran between Latin America and Africa and funded by revolutionary guerrilla drug money, marking Jara’s introduction into the dealings and operations of the underworld. Though her memories of her infancy were gone, her training hadn’t left, and Jara quickly rose up the ranks as a prized assassin. But the job wasn't exactly pleasant. She was little more than a dog on a leash, unchained on a whim and sent after enemies and rivals of her employer. She had no say in what happened with her.
Eventually, she heard word of Magneto and his group of mutants. Though not one for ideologies and philosophies, the idea that he professed, of shedding those infamous chains of oppression and seizing control of the world into the hands of the powerful, the mutants, appealed to her. Once again, she vanished from radar, though not before feeding some convenient information to the DEA about her handler's operations and sparking a messy and violent sting operation, never thinking twice about her betrayal. She abandoned her Miami-based operations promptly and relocated to New York, joining the ranks of the self-proclaimed messiah of mutants.
She participated in the destruction of the Stafford branch of the Friends of Humanity with the Brotherhood's first incarnation, slaughtering men and women and satiating her bloodlust amid the chaos and merciless destruction. Following Magneto's brief disappearance, she prowled the streets of New York, easing her boredom with a slew of killings that achieved a brief amount of acknowledgment in the Daily Bugle. Presently, she is working alongside Magneto and his followers once more.SAMPLE RP POST:
The back alleys of the downtown were no place to wander in. These dark, shadowy corridors held more than inner city dirt, grime, and raccoon-sized rats. There were drug dealers, addicts, prostitutes, all scattered over ever city block, prowling the streets for the next fix or the next tease. This typical infrastructure of the modern American city was dreary, existence bleak, no guarantee of seeing another sun rise. That was if you could see through the smog. A society in decadence.
Even at this ungodly hour, the ladies of the night continued their rounds, strutting past the destitute as they patrolled the sidewalk, offering a good time. That was on the main streets. But no one dared enter the small alleys, those cramped, claustrophobic spaces between crumbling edifices, result of urban sprawl. These paths were silent, save for the constant drip from the gutters of apartment buildings, the occasional shriek of rats as they gnashed at each other for dominion over trash cans. But in this maze of alleyways, beyond the dead ends, shattered dreams, and aspirations that could never take flight, there was... something. A sound, though it had no distinguishable identity. It was a dull rumble, vibrating beneath one’s feet. Following the source, it led to a plain doorway, metal exterior rusted red, blending into the brick wall. It led to an empty room, nothing extraordinary about it... except for the large hatch opened on the floor. It revealed a flight of stairs, the sublevel beneath the street nothing short of intriguing.
There were three levels to this room, each crowded with dozens upon dozens of people. Some lounged serenely in the back ground, each floor catered by a large alcoholic bar, patrons sitting at small tables or booths, eyes intend on the TV screen over the bartenders’ heads. The rest clamored around the veranda, looking down into the fourth level, a depressed pit. Countless voices yelled, cheered, and booed, men and women placing bets and downing drinks while they watched the spectacle unravel below, women letting out shrieks of terror as the ground shook, men holding them with delight.
Needless to say, this was an arena. Below, a pair of fighters dueled one another, their grunts and battle cries echoing around the chamber, fueling the crowd’s energy. A plume of fire illuminated the arena, one of the fighters throwing the jet of flame at his enemy. The room shook immediately, the other opponent summoning a pillar of rock from the earth as his shield. Bets continued to rise, fall, change, as the fight continued, the crowd watching the match between the two mutants. They were both strong, agile, powerful—the match could go either way.
As always, Jara didn’t give a damn.
Jade eyes drifted over the fighters boredly on the plasma screen television, their pyrokinetics and rock-throwing rather unimpressive to the young woman. She sat at the third level, the VIP section, so to speak. The surroundings were rather chic, considering it overlooked a bloodbath. She reclined casually in her booth, leaning against the arm of a blue upholstered sofa, legs tucked closely by her. A long leopard-like tail flicked idly, snaking over her shapely legs, taking the remaining length of the seat. The other members of her group were seated around the television as well, placing hefty wagers, thousands of dollars each. The woman only rolled her eyes at their antics, crimson gloved fingers drumming on her thigh, brushing a lock of umber hair behind a pointed ear. Pfft... they were so easily amused.