Character Name: Nemesis: 2004
Alternate Identities: Marishka Trelane, Mari
Player Name: Sarah
|Hair Color:||Black with blue streaks|
|Eye Color:||Blue||Height:||5' 8"|
Rachel is an attractive young woman with a lithe, taut body of an athlete, a result of years of martial arts training. Her hair color, nearly black with streaks of blue a dark blue is natural though no one believes it. Her eyes are the exact same shade as the blue in her hair. Normally she dresses in loose legged yoga pants, tank top
with a loose
The girl was born in Moscow, the Soviet Union, on the day the U.S. President Ronald Reagan demanded “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” Her mother, possibly due to the less than reliable Soviet medicine, survived only twenty-two minutes after her birth. Her father, U.S. Congressman James Kevin Trelane, Democrat from Colorado, and her older brother by four years, James jr., died eleven days later in an explosion the Soviet police declared a ‘Chechen separatist’ action. Her sole surviving family member, her grandfather’s sister, arrived two days later to take the infant back to Colorado.
Marishka had been the name her mother had chosen, in honor of her own mother and in recognition of her Russian ancestry. Mari was all her great aunt would ever call her. They took up residence in the log and field stone house her father had cause to be built the year of his marriage to the beautiful Russian translator, Rayna Motylev, whom he had met while attending a conference at the United Nations. Though entering her seventh decade Malora Trelane Davis, know to Mari as Aunt Hoppie, saw the baby as the child she’d never had. Her husband, Archie Davis, had died more than 40 years ago and they’d never had children.
For her, Mari was a fountain of youth for in this child she found a will to continue that had been flagging as the years worn on. Though Mari never thought of her great aunt as ‘mother’ nonetheless Aunt Hoppie was all a child could have possibly wanted or needed in a parent. Malora imparted in the girl many ‘old’ fashion’ values and skills, sewing, cooking, ‘yes ma’am, ‘thank you, sir, many thing her generation later would prove to be sadly lacking. They played together, learned together and lived happily in the Colorado Mountains until just after Christmas of Mari’s tenth year.
The house, heated in the long winters by three fireplaces that were cleaned every spring, was not thought to be a fire hazard … unless a less than reliable chimney sweep was paid for work never completed. The wall of Mari’s room, situated above the living room, began to smother while she was enjoying breakfast. By the time she returned to her room, it was engulfed. When she opened the door, burning her hand and leaving a door knob shaped brand, the room sucked in all the new oxygen and created a backdraft. Mari was blown down the stairs with burned over about ten percent of her body. She had been lucky but the trauma haunted her the rest of her life. With the house a total ruin, Aunt Hoppie moved south to Florida and warmed climes. Mari started school that June.
The June sun was unmerciful as soon to be eleven-year old Mari climbed off the bus and trailed along behind the other riders toward the overly white school. She squinted, hitched her backpack higher and made a mental note to ask Aunt Hoppie for some sunglasses when she got home. Only three days in Florida and already she missed the mountains. It was so flat here.
“Hey!” A voice stopped her and she turned. A girl about her own age with sun-bleached brown hair grinned at her. “You new?”
“Thought so! I don’t remember seeing you around last year and I know everybody. I’m Rachel.”
“Mari,” she replied.
“What’s your homeroom?” the girl asked.
“Cool! Me too!” The girl stepped in front of her to stop her. “You don’t do drugs, do you?”
“Drugs? What do you mean?”
“My dad’s DEA, he runs the Miami field office and I don’t wanna have to report you and get you arrested.”
She blinked. “I don’t do drugs.”
“Good! Then we can be friends. Where’ya from?”
“Cool! My mom lives near like Aspen or something, she’s a hippy, grows weed and stuff,” Rachel seemed to like to talk and wasn’t afraid to say what was on her mind, apparently.
“But you said you dad was DEA.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t bust mom, not his jurisdiction. Besides, he wouldn’t get laid next time if he did.” Rachel was grinning.
“They don’t live together?”
“Nah, me and dad live here and mom’s in the commune.” They reached a door and Rachel yanked it open. “Let’s sit together.”
Mari never regretted that little agreement. Well, maybe she regretted it a little …
Mari groaned and stared up at Rachel. She lay flat on her back for the tenth time. The mat was beginning to have a Mari-shaped dent. She took the offered hand and let herself be pulled to her feet, for the tenth time.
“You’re getting better!” Rachel observed.
“At what? Making splat noises?”
Rachel’s laugh was infectious and Mari couldn’t quite stifle a giggle.
“You know it is only me that can toss you on your ass,” her friend said. “You got it over everybody else.”
Mari knew she was right but she always had to try Rachel just one more time and one day she knew, she’s finally put the other girl on the mat. She’s taken up Kung Fu at Rachel’s suggestion … well, if you can call slamming a piece of paper down on the desk and ordering someone to ‘sign’ a suggestion. That had been only a few weeks after they’d met last year. At first she was very tentative, the whole concept of tossing another girl, or sometimes boy, around and kicking them wasn’t something she’d ever considered but after Rachel had stepped in and stopped three older girls from bullying her, she figured she owed her. Thing was, Rach was like … untouchable. No one, not even their instructor, could lay a finger on her. She was like mercury, sliding away and reforming untouched. It was kinda uncanny.
“Hey, let’s get lunch,” Rachel draped an arm across her shoulder. “We can grab a burger and eat it in the park.”
“With the junkies and homeless and gangbangers?”
“Yeah … how about your place? You think your aunt would be okay with that?”
“She’s feed us.”
Rachel grinned. “Really” she said innocently.
Rachel loved Aunt Hoppie’s cooking and there was always something good. If Mari had smelled rightly that it would be chocolate chip cookies today.
“And I can grab a shower,” Rachel added. “Got anything I can wear besides a sweaty gi?”
For a moment Mari’s mind seemed to disconnect. Rachel’d never taken a shower at her house before and the thought was a little disturbing but it was Rachel and they were BFFs.
“You get a shower first,” Mari said as she threw open her bedroom door. “I’ll scrounge us up a couple cookies.”
Rachel stepped past her shedding the gi’s top. She wasn’t developed enough to need a bra. Mari looked over at the wall.
“Red Bull!” Rachel called as she headed for the bathroom. She dropped her pants and began peeling off her panties.
Mari turned and hurried out trying to ignore the little thrill of seeing Rachel naked.
Ten minutes later she was sitting on the bed flipping through the channels when Rachel reappeared, her head covered by a towel with which she vigorously scrubbed her hair, her body covered by nothing but a slight beading of water.
“Rachel!” Mari Protested.
A face appeared in the towel. “What?”
“Easier to take a shower that way.”
“But what?” The towel remained on her head but her fists settled onto her hips. “Ya know next year we will have gym and have to shower with a bunch of naked girls. What’s the big deal?”
“Just …” Mari sputtered. “I’ve never seen another girl naked.”
“Um … ya know we all look alike, right?”
“Yeah but …” Mari hadn’t taken her eyes off her friend’s body. They weren’t all alike.
She scrambled off the bed and moved quickly into the bathroom.
“Help yourself to clothes,” she said as she pushed the door closed.
Inside, she leaned heavily against the door. “Not all alike,” she muttered.
She began to undress, watching herself in the mirror over the sink. Unlike Rachel, she’d worn a sports bra under her gi and once she’d peeled it off, she paused, regarding her mostly flat chest. Rachel wasn’t much bigger up top, but there was a perceivable difference. Idly she wondered what it would be like to have bigger boobs … and screamed.
Rachel, still naked, hit the door without turning the knob and the door bounced off the wall, leaving a doorknob shaped dent. Mari, topless, faced her, hands spread, huge breasts hanging on her chest.
“What the fuck!?”
“You girls okay?” came a call from the kitchen.
“Yeah, Missus Davis, I just pours cold water on Mari.”
“Well knock it off!”
“Yes ma’am!” To Mari she said “I guess puberty hit.”
“It’s not funny!”
“Oh, come on! It’s kinda funny … those real?”
Rachel reached out to touch but Mari slapped at her hand so she drew back.
“They feel real, okay!” At least, what she thought real would feel like.
“Let me see!” Rachel moved closer and made to touch again. Again Mari’s slap miss but this time Rachel’s hands ended up cupping both breasts. “Yup, feel real.”
“Will you stop that!?” Mari twisted away.
“What happened, you kill the boob fairy and she cursed you?”
Mari shook her head. “I was just looking at myself and thinking how your boobs are bigger then mine.”
“Not any more!”
“Oh, shut up!”
“So they just went poof and there they were?
“Try to imagine youself with a flat chest again.”
“You thought ‘em up, why can’t you think ‘em down?”
Rachel’s hands turned her to face the mirror.
“Think small, flat, smashed fried egg boobs.”
“Whata ya got to lose trying, other then two MASSIVE tits?
Rachel stood close behind her. Hands on her shoulders, mouth next to her ear.
“Small, normal boobs …” she whispered.
Mari stared at her reflexion and tried to remember what her chest had looked like second ago. She actually felt it this time, her skin sort of tingling, drawing in, like shrinking and then, she was flat again.
“See, how hard was that?” Rachel whispered in her ear.
Mari turned and found herself chest to chest with a still naked Rachel. A half dozen reactions warred in her but she fought them all down except one.
“Why aren’t you freaking out?” she asked her friend.
Rachel smiled and kissed her on the nose. “Because I’m a meta human too.”
“What do you mean ‘too’?”
“You ever notice no one can touch me, not even a little slap at my hands?”
“Yeah …” The smell of Rachel’s moist, clean body was beginning to … to what? She gently pushed the other girl back. “Let me take a shower, we’ll talk about it … and put on some clothes.”
“Need help?” Rachel grinned.
“No!” Mari pushed her out and stared for a moment at the doorknob dent in the wall.
“Sorry, I thought you were in trouble,” Rachel shrugged. “I didn’t expect gigantic, huge, massive, titanic boobs!”
Mari slammed the door in her face then collapsed onto the toilet. She stared down at her chest and imagined her boobs growing just a little … they did.
By the time she got out of the shower, Mari was totally confused. Not only would her boobs grow but she got taller, thinner, fatter, shorter … even … older. She came out of the bathroom wrapped in a huge towel looking like a twenty-year old.
“Holy shit,” Rachel whispered when she saw Mari. “I mean really, holy fuck!”
“Now, no questions from you. What do you mean meta human TOO?
Rachel came to her feet, now dressed in one of Mari’s long tee shirts and cotton panties.
“It’s not like I can SHOW anything like … that …” she gestured at Mari’s body. “Just … I’m not just a little faster then anyone in the kung fu class including sensai … I’m a LOT faster.”
“What do you mean?”
“Got a ruler?”
Mari turned and pulled a ruler out of her desk drawer, handling it to Rachel. She took it and gripped it at one end between forefinger and thumb.
“Put your fingers about and inch apart with the ruler in the middle. When I drop it, you catch it. That shows you how good your reflexes are.”
Rachel dropped it and Mari caught it about two inches up the ruler.
“That’s pretty good. Most people are around the three inch mark. Now, you hold it for me.”
Mari released the ruller and Rachel caught it on the very edge. She took the ruler back and tried it again … and again, ten times. Rachel never missed the edge.
“That’s the only way I can show how much quicker I am, that I’ve figured out,” Rachel said. “Try this.” She handed the ruler back to Mari then moved as far away as she could in the room and turned her back. “Throw it at me as fast and hard as you can.”
“I’ll hit you with your back turned,” Mari said.
“Trust me,” Rachel said.
Mari tossed the ruler lightly at her friend. Rachel turned to catch the ruler so fast Mari blinked in surprise. She tossed it back.
“Throw it like I just kissed your boyfriend.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“IMAGINE it … umm … maybe don’t imagine too hard or we might have a boy in the room with us.”
This time Mari pretended she was a knife thrower at a carnival and while she did throw it hard, she targeted a spot to the left of Rachel. Rachel snatched it out of the air.
“You heard me move,” Mari suggested.
“What? Your towel crinkled?”
Rachel plucked a pair of tissues from the box on Mari’s dressing table and rolled up a couple of balls then stuck them in her ears. Next she reached out to snatched Mari’s towel and then draped it over her head. She faced away from Mari.
“I’m gonna kiss your boyfriend for real,” Rachel taunted.
Mari picked up a river rock from home that she used as a paperweight, bounced it in her hand then hurled it at Rachel’s butt. The rock slapped into Rachel’s palm without the girl even turning.
“Holy shit,” she whispered.
The towel hit her in the face.
“Yeah, holy shit, you’re boobs are gone again.”
She hesitated, the towel hanging from one hand, feeling a thrill at Rachel’s gaze.
“What can you change?” Rachel said mischievously. “Can to grow a dick?”
“Ew! Why would I want to do that?”
Mari wrapped herself in the towel.
“I’m not that curious,” she replied. “But I can be taller, or short, to a degree. You know, the boobs thing, I think I can even tone up my muscles … at least it looks like I am toned.”
She opened the towel and showed Rachel a hard six pack tummy.
“Crap, I could bounce a coin on that!” Then her hand was spread across Mari’s stomach, feeling the ridges of muscle. “Feels real.”
She let her body relax.
“Mmm …” Rachel hummed.
“What?” Mari looked down at her stomach then pulled the towel closed.
“Just I think the real you is better, is all.”
Mari blushed and turned away, quickly pulling out drawers and locating panties and a tee shirt. She didn’t try to hide as she dropped the towel again and dressed. The feeling that someone was watching her, even another girl, was exciting.
“So,” she said, trying for nonchalance, “what do we do with this meta human thing?”
“You kidding? Have fun!”
Mari eyed her suspiciously.
“What kinda fun?”
The first person Mari Trelane ever imitated was her best friend, Rachel. It was perfect.
The man in the black suit showed up on Rachel’s door step two days after she’s won the International Martial Arts Federation championship, female divison. She and Mari where there alone, lounging on the couch, watching Twilight and laughing at the whole stupid thing when the doorbell range.
“Ms. Thomas,” her name was a statement, not a question. A leather wallet flipped up and was held up to her at eye level.
“What do you want?” Rachel sounded scared and Mari came to her feet. “Is it daddy?”
Mari knew Rachel’s greatest fear was something happening to her DEA agent father during a bust.
“No, miss, your father is fine,” the man said, catching Mari’s movement as she came into the entry hall. “I would like to speak to you alone if I may.”
“Let me see that badge,” Mari said, some little warning bell going off. This could be some drug dude thing, a hired killer to take them out because of Rachel’s father. She snatched it out of the man’s hand and inspected it, not that she knew a real FBI badge from a fake. “Rach, call your dad, find out if this is real.”
“Who are you, miss?” the man said without any apparent concern with regards to the authenticity of his credentials.
“Mari Trelane, that’s CONGRESSMAN Trelane’s daughter.”
The man paused for a moment then nodded to himself.
“Ms. Trelane, please accept my condolences for your family,” he said without any real feeling behind it.
Mari handed him the wallet back. “What’s this about, Agent Miller?”
“This is really private,” the man replied.
“No,” Rachel said. “I’d feel better having Mari here.”
“Really, miss, it is of the utmost secrecy. I come at the behest of the President of the United States.”
“Well, you have two choices, Agent Miller,” Rachel said. “One, you talk with Mari here, or two, you wait until my dad shows up then you talk with Mari here.”
“Miss,” he began. “We have become aware of certain … skills that you have.”
“You mean meta human skills?” Mari asked.
“Come in, Agent,” Rachel said, backing away. She let the door close behind him.
“What do you know of meta humans?” the man asked Mari.
Mari’s face changed and two Rachels regarded the man through identical brown eyes.
The pair arrived in San Diego three days later.
|Mari is a shapeshifter who can take the form of anyone she wishes and duplicate them so completely that she is indistinguishable from the original. It does not, however, allow her to change anything she is touching or wearing necessitating an appropriate wardrobe to complete her duplication of an individual. This ability also allows her to alter her physical abilities to an amazing extent. She can, for example, increase her strength to a level that will allow her to lift up to 25 tons, or run at speeds of +90 MPH. Her body's ability to alter itself to a cellular level allows her to heal very quickly making her difficult to incapacitate and ensure any injuries, short of death, will be totally healed within a few minutes. Though she is not aware of it, she is nearly immortal for these reasons.|
|Mari has the attention span of a three year old at times. Her nearly perfect recall of everything she reads is astounding but she is quickly bored and so tends to know a little bit about many things. This gives her a few odd nuggets of specific studies and sciences. Her most recent interest is pyrotechnics but she has been forbidden to play around with fireworks. Naturally she didn't listen and the last 4th of July celebration resulted in a visit to the school by the San Diego fire department to extinguish a brush fire.|
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