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Black, Carmilla; Scorpion
Topic Started: Feb 1 2015, 04:02 AM (625 Views)
Carmilla Black
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[align=center]PLAYER INFORMATION[/align]

NAME: Machka
CONTACT: You know it!
HOW YOU FOUND US: Searching
OTHER CHARACTERS ON THE SITE Network, Mercury, Copycat (minor), Lilandra (Minor), Catseye
RULES CODE: Hail Hydra

CREDIT WHERE IT'S DUE: Wikipedia, for lists of toxins, poisons, etc. Marvel Wiki for information on Scorpion and her powers.

[align=center]CHARACTER INFORMATION[/align]

[align=center]Posted Image
Alejandra Alonso [/align]

BASIC INFORMATION

CANON OR ORIGINAL: Canon
AFFILIATION: SHIELD

FULL NAME: Carmilla Black // Birth name: Thanasee Rappaccini
CODENAME: Scorpion
NICKNAMES: Milla, Cara, Carm

CURRENT AGE: 24
DATE OF BIRTH: April 15, 1990
MARITAL STATUS: Single
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Hetero
BASE OF OPERATIONS: SHIELD Helicarrier
TIME AT INSTITUTE: None
HOMETOWN: West Chester, PA
KNOWN RELATIVES: Adoptive Parents: Tim and Julia Black
Birth Mother: Monica Rappaccini
Birth Brother: Lorcan Rappaccini

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

HEIGHT: 5’9”
BUILD: Toned and fit, if a bit slight
EYES: Dark green
HAIR: Originally brown, now a dark green
DISTINGUISHING MARKS:
CLOTHING STYLE: She prefers comfort over beauty, especially black – mainly because colors tend to make her hair clash.
UNIFORM: Black suit with dark green accents, tight but flexible, for easy movement. The silver gauntlet on her left arm is the most obvious part about it, otherwise, she’s meant for stealth and simplicity.

POWERS

GENERAL DESCRIPTION: Carmilla Black has been aptly codenamed ‘Scorpion’ for more than one reason. Her entire body is as if nature engineered her to be the perfect survivor. To begin with, her body is completely immune to all known toxic effects of biological, chemical and radiological weapons, including poison, drugs, and nuclear fallout and radiation. To this effect, her body produces an astonishing number of protective safeguards. Her trachea and lungs are lined with a thick layer of cilia that acts much like activated charcoal, absorbing and negating the effects of toxins and harmful particles that might enter her lungs, such as smoke or gases. Her lymphatic system, traditionally part of the immune system that filters toxins out of the body to prevent illness, is supercharged. Her lymphatic system naturally produces chemicals to counteract toxins, poisons, and other harmful substances.

There are quite a few different methods her body uses, but among them are nictating membranes across her eyes to protect her eyes from things like tear gas and smoke, the production of atropine to defend against agents such as nerve gases and organophosphate poisons, and amyl enzymes to counteract blood agents such as cyanide. Her sweat glands naturally excrete chemicals that counteract blistering agents such as mustard gas. Her cell nuclei float in a solution similar to iodized salt to deflect gamma rays and other forms of radiation. She has a microscopic organ within her body similar to that of an electric eel, made up of electrocytes, which are capable of metabolizing and neutralizing electricity almost instantly. It can then be converted and discharged as a kind of toxic-shock through her arm. She is not capable of discharging or controlling actual electricity.

In addition to the many defenses her body itself has against various contaminants, Carmilla’s lymphatic system itself is extremely powerful. Any toxins or contaminants she comes into contact with can be absorbed by her body, and while they do no harm, they are automatically filtered through her lymphatic system and deposited in an enlarged gland at her left armpit, and distributed down her left arm. Cara has dubbed this arm her ‘stinger’, as any touch to the skin of her left arm, from just below her shoulder to her fingertips and nails, will instantly transfer the toxins lingering in her body to her target. It is possible for her to determine what to ‘sting’ someone with – a strong dose of sedatives, a mild poison, etc – but it is not an exact science. More or less, what is absorbed into her system on any given day will linger within her stinger until transferred to another victim.

Her arm is very poisonous, and she cannot stop it from being that way – it is constantly ‘on’, although she is capable of lessening the effects slightly, with concentration. When discharging toxins from her arm, she emits a greenish cloud, which sinks into a person’s skin and is instantly absorbed into their body. Their skin where she touches them will maintain a light greenish cast to it until the toxins wear off. The toxic effect she emits can be as simple as knocking someone out, making them feel sick, and can kill in high enough doses, depending on what she has absorbed recently. The more poison she stockpiles within her system, the more deadly her exuded toxin will be.

Moreover, the constant activity of her lymphatic system keeps her constantly in peak physical condition. She is immune to disease, and her body’s chemistry keeps her in top physical shape no matter what she ingests. Her endurance is increased, as any lactic acid buildup in her muscles from exertion is automatically absorbed into her system and converted into nutrients to better suit her body’s needs. In the same vein, she needs less sleep than an average human, usually averaging at needing approximately 2-4 hours of sleep a night to feel fully rested.

In addition to this, she is an extremely athletic gymnast, and highly skilled in martial arts. She has a S.H.I.E.L.D. issued gauntlet for her arm that is capable of retracting down to the size of a petite silver bracelet, or otherwise is the length from her elbow to her hand, with a cloth sleeve incasing her upper arm. The gauntlet was specially designed to contain and control her venomous arm, giving her more control over the output of toxins than she would normally have. The gauntlet has the added benefit of giving her a mild ranged attack – she is capable of emitting a cloud of toxin which can extend for about three feet in the direction of her arm, and will absorb into whoever comes into contact with it. However, it dissipates quickly when airborne, and once it is in the air, she cannot withdraw it or direct where it goes or who it attacks.

WEAKNESS:
The most obvious weakness Carmilla has is that she cannot fully turn off her venomous arm. It is constantly poisonous and always emits at least some poison, most often from her fingertips if she is making the effort to control it. It takes constant mental exertion to maintain control of the amount of toxin she exudes, and if she is knocked unconscious, the output goes back to normal, as she is incapable of turning it off. Any touch to that arm, if not protected by the gauntlet or otherwise controlled, will result in the person touching being poisoned.

Her body’s absorption process is not instantaneous, either. While certain things such as inhalation and skin-contact toxicities will barely register with her, things that are injected into her body may still have an effect, until her system can filter them out. Sedatives and mind controlling drugs, at strong enough concentrations, are capable of working on her, at least for the time it takes for her lymphatic system to kick in and absorb them. An extreme overdose of sedatives is capable of slowing her heart to near-death proportions, but given twenty minutes she would be back on her feet, if not at her best. Most common dosages of drugs will do little to her system, and as such she is also immune to things like generic pain relievers and anesthesia, unless nullified. Carmilla is incapable of getting drunk, and while her body will naturally lessen pain responses, she is incapable of healing wounds.

Cara is just as capable of being killed by a knife or a bullet or heavy object as any normal person her size, and despite her increased agility and endurance, she is not capable of superhuman speeds or feats of strength. While skilled in hand-to-hand fighting, she is not infallible. Without the gauntlet, she will have a much harder time controlling the output of her toxins.

PERSONALITY

Carmilla wasn’t always a guarded individual, and beneath the wariness of a street-wise young woman are still hints of the sweet, fun-loving girl she used to be. Due to her rather dangerous mutation, however, she is now a bit more cautious and aware of herself, especially in terms of her surroundings and those around her. She is a polite individual, if not always in a politically correct way – she likes to joke and has a bit of a twisted sense of humor. That being said, she knows when it’s imperative to be serious, and despite the light-heartedness she likes to show, she is slightly jaded about the world.

More than anything else, Milla is a survivor. When she throws herself into harm’s way, or tests herself against a new drug or toxin, it’s to push her limits and face them. She sometimes seems like she’s trying to prove to herself that she can keep going. She dislikes big fusses, and crowds aren’t her strong suit at all, preferring not to be super close in contact with others, as her presence can be toxic. Cara is highly aware of the fact that she is a poisonous individual, and that those around her might be in danger from her, and does her best to prevent such disasters from happening.

In the field, Scorpion is a how she was trained to be – a soldier. Not unfeeling or uncaring, but she will follow orders. She’s not so much a ‘big picture’ person, and so will trust those in charge to give her a part to play. The most important thing to her is making sure that those who trust her don’t get hurt, even if it means putting herself at risk to do so.

Friends are a complicated mess for Carmilla, but a mess she enjoys. She’s not the safest to be around, and she knows it, but she is generally a friendly individual. Adrenaline is something she enjoys, whether at work or in everyday life, so she can often be found doing something semi-dangerous or heart pounding. In her quiet time, she reads, losing herself in fantasy worlds where girls don’t turn into toxic monsters and kill their boyfriends, or spend years on the run for it. Anything but reality.


HISTORY

Carmilla was raised by a pair of scientists, Julia and Tim Black, as their daughter. Bright, happy, and excitable, she was a relatively normal child, if very hyper active. Even as a youngster, she rarely needed as much sleep as most people did, often bounding from one activity to the next. Her parents were thrilled with her activities, and she took dance classes and gymnastic classes, often peppered in with sports or science experiments. Growing up with scientists as parents was always an adventure – building things out of everyday objects, or in one case causing an explosion of flour all over the kitchen. Carmilla was an inquisitive child, always trying to learn things, if not always in the best of ways. She tended to get into trouble more for her energy than anything else.

As she got older, she channeled her energy into different pursuits, advancing her skills in dance and gymnastics, and picking up some martial arts. There was very little Milla wouldn’t try, from rock climbing, horseback riding, even bungee jumping, although her father wasn’t exactly thrilled with that last one. Anything that got her blood pumping, the faster the better. She didn’t slack in school, but it wasn’t always the most challenging – she tended to lose focus on the more boring subjects. Science was always her preferred, and she excelled in it, and certain parts of history fascinated her.

Other than the interest in sports and activities, Carmilla lived a relatively normal life. The most exciting things to happen were a broken wrist, and when she was fourteen she learned she’d been adopted. It was shock, but there was little drama to go along with it. The Black’s were wonderful, and she wouldn’t have traded them for the world. It made no difference to any of them – other than in the occasional teenage rant about rights and justice. It didn’t matter that there was some weird Italian name on the adoption papers.

And it might’ve never mattered to her, until things began to change. It started on the night of her sophomore prom. It was a great night, dancing, friends, her boyfriend Jake was one of the soccer players, and a great guy. She hadn’t been feeling her best that night, but it wasn’t enough to keep her from going. In hindsight, she really wished she’d stayed home.

It was near the end of the night, and she’d been feeling weirder. A few of the kids were drunk – someone insisted there’d been something spiked in the punch bowl of the dance, although Carmilla only felt a few moments of light headedness when she had some. She chalked it up to imaginations running wild, or just lies. She was in the bathroom, joking with a friend, when she noticed the first streak of green glazing her hair. Confused, she tried to wipe it off with a paper towel, because surely it was a trick of the light or something.

It became more prominent, though, as her fingernails started to glow, a strange alien green, almost like a cloud was forming around her fingertips. Starting to panic, she tried to wash it off, but the water turned acidic green. She wiped them on a paper towel, but it didn’t come off, and instead started coalescing up her arm, as if fog were surrounding her. Horrified as one of her friends tried to touch it, she ran. Halfway towards the exit, her boyfriend caught her...His hand closed around her arm, and he froze. Staring at him in shock, she tried to pull away, but it was like his hand had frozen in place. And then he collapsed, seizing, his back bowing up and foam leaking from the corner of his mouth.

That was when she screamed.

The glow was fading now, but the hand he’d touched her with was covered in what looked like green dust, but it wouldn’t wipe off. She watched, backing away, as he died on the floor of the dance, surrounded by their friends, the paramedics too far away to help. They were staring at her then, at her arm, still faintly glowing, in disgust and terror. She did the only thing she could think of.

She ran.

Carmilla didn’t go home – she knew the implications of what had just happened. She’d just killed a boy, and ‘I accidentally poisoned him with my body’ wasn’t something that would fly. With energy she didn’t know she had, she ran. The dress was torn off and traded for some clothes she stole off someone’s hanging line – clichéd, she thought, but suddenly those movies made sense. They didn’t fit right and she looked like an idiot, tearing strips from her pretty dress to wrap around her arm, desperately trying to cover up the greenish cast. She ran for almost twenty four hours straight before collapsing in some random warehouse out of sheer exhaustion.

The workers found her the next morning, and they called the cops before waking her. Disoriented, uncertain of where she was, and with the memory of her boyfriend’s death fresh in her mind, she took off again. She’d lived outside of Philadelphia for so long, it wasn’t hard to find her way into the bowels of the city. The cops only recognized her once, and as soon as she could, she hitched a ride out of the city. There was no destination in mind, just…Distance.

She ended up in New York City, because it was the biggest city she could think of to disappear into. It was easier to hide her arm behind gloves and long sleeves, the further north she got. It wasn’t easy – a seventeen year old on her own was bound to make waves, even if she didn’t have green hair. Her constant movement, that energy she’d always had, it was her friend now, keeping her from getting caught. She ran with a few other street locals a few times, sharing hovels, learning how to pick pocket and basic thievery. Whenever someone questioned her arm, though, she made it a point to move on.

Milla made it over a year on her own, dying her hair when she could, and she made it all the way to Maine before the world ended.

DURING APOCALYPSE:

She wasn’t exactly following the news, but it was impossible not to learn about the attack on the east coast – New York City. Only a few hours from her home town, and suddenly Carm was torn. Terrified for her family, and almost as terrified for herself, she’d finally gotten up the courage to go home, skipping town and catching what rides she could, walking the rest of the way. Or rather, walking as far as she could. Her endurance was good, she wasn’t easily tired, and she’d found that things like smoke and drugs did nothing to her. She’d had moments of weakness in the city, had tried drugs – there was little to no effect, which she could only assume was due to her mutation, as she’d come to realize.

Milla had made it to upstate New York by the time the Eye of Horus was activated. Trying to call her parents, they were cut off by the storm, as a hurricane battered the state. She sought shelter with so many others, desperately keeping her arm wrapped and hidden, although the longer she stayed near people, the sicker they began to get. Keeping to herself was hard – she couldn’t help, and the moment the storms seemed to abate, she took off. The longer she stayed with her unshielded arm around normal people, the sicker they became.

The EMP blast shut down so much that people had always considered necessary – but Cara was resourceful. There was no one to stop her from breaking into a camping supply store and stealing some resources – a sleeping bag, a pack, lighters, boots, map, a compass. It wasn’t hard for her to rough it for a week or so, and she’d quickly realized during her time on the streets that there was little she couldn’t ingest. Things that would be poisonous or toxic to normal people barely registered on her system’s radar – other than the slight increase in size of the lymph node under her left armpit. It never protruded, or bothered her in any way, but she was aware of it.

A week of desperate walking and running, of eating anything she could find, and she made it home. Philadelphia was damaged by rain and earth and fire…And the house she’d been raised in, that little townhouse with so many memories – it was destroyed. Rubble remained, and she found only a few scraps of pictures in the debris. The bodies of her foster parents had been taken away long before she’d reached them, and she couldn’t even claim them. Not without risking arrest for the death she’d already caused. Picking through the rubble and finding a safe, she took the documents that had been saved from the fire and left, this time with nothing to return to.

POST-APOCALYPSE

New York City was her destination once more, and it became her home as the clean up from Apocalypse began. There was always work to be done, even if it was done through less than legal channels. She’d give a false name, pick up work helping to rebuild or clean up, always for people who didn’t care if they had to pay her under the table. There was plenty of cleaning up to do, and where others balked at jobs that could get them sick or cause infections, Carmilla had no worries about it. Dust and smoke didn’t bother her, she never got sick or got infections. She kept her nose relatively clean – joined a gym with her earnings, used the showers in the gym, always late, always when there was no one around to possibly brush against her arm.

People didn’t question another young woman living in a tent in the devastated city. She started looking into the documents she’d salvaged from the ruins of her home. Adoption papers, legal names and birth certificates. Car got in contact with the agency, and started searching. This woman listed, Monica Rappaccini – weird name, and no way would she ever call herself ‘Thanasee’ – it turned out she was a scientist, like her adopted parents had been. An odd coincidence, but not that unusual.

Getting in touch would have been easy, had Cara wanted. But no, Tim and Julia Black were her parents, and she didn’t need another. So other than learning that Monica was a head scientist for a government agency known as A.I.M., she did nothing with the information, continuing to try and live a life without causing any more damage.

PURIFIERS

The bias against mutants had always been there – she knew that perfectly well. From the moment her hair had gone green, from the first death she’d caused and the stares she received, filled with horror and revulsion, she knew. There was a reason she’d always dyed her hair black to hide it, and worn gloves or wrappings on her arm. But when the Church of Humanity rose up in the city, things seemed to escalate. People would cross the street to get away from obvious mutants, glaring at them, blaming them.

Small riots were breaking out, and it was harder for Carmilla to hide her arm, her poison from people. There was too much suspicion, too much hatred. And she tried to avoid it, really. But the Night of Broken Glass was like a nightmare she couldn’t escape. In Mutant Town, the Purifier’s attacked, breaking store fronts, burning buildings and attacking people. She tried to get out, but was drawn back in when she saw a family’s house lit by a makeshift bomb. The family, the child obviously a mutant with her oddly colored skin, was cowering across the street, trying to fend off a group of attackers.

She knew better than to get involved, but she still did. Jumping to the family’s defense was simply…The right thing to do. Seeing her weirdly wrapped arm, the green roots growing out from her dyed hair, the Purifier’s attacked her. She fought back as non-lethally as she could, using her previously learned skill, punctuated with street tricks she’d perfected. Dirty fighting. And she probably would’ve gotten killed, one of them yanking her hair back and shearing it off with a knife…If the one man hadn’t grabbed her arm.

The wrappings had slipped, she knew it the moment he reached for her, as his hand closed around her upper arm. Carmilla could practically feel the toxins screaming for release in her body, flooding up and into the man. He dropped within a second, and she turned to block a punch from a cohort. He brushed her now bare arm and convulsed on the ground, the glow around her arm getting steadily stronger.

It was the gunfire that drew S.H.I.E.L.D.’s attention to the outskirt fight. The bullet went wide, hitting her good arm, even as she wrapped her venomous hand around the wrist of the man with the gun. He dropped, and she was still staring at him when the agents told her to put her hands up.

All that time spent running from a single death, an accident from year ago…And government agents managed to see her kill three attackers with nothing more than a touch of her arm. For a split second, she considered running despite the guns trained on her. The agents must’ve realized her panic, because they reiterated that they would shoot. Raising her hands into the air, she complied, shaking. When they moved to cuff her, she nearly got shot, begging them to let her re-wrap her arm first. Suspicious, but having seen the effects of her poison they let her grab her wraps, the glove that had fallen.

Safely wrapping her skin from view, she let them cuff her, and spent the next night in a S.H.I.E.L.D. prison. The riot in the city had gotten even worse over the course of the night, and for a while she was concerned about having been forgotten. Until finally an agent came to see her.

She was offered a choice – prison for the deaths she’d caused, or recruitment. Government boot camp, a chance to repay her debt to society in a more positive fashion. It wasn’t much of a choice. The thought of prison didn’t terrify her like it once did, not after so many years fending for herself…But the thought that she might be able to channel this weird toxic ability into something useful, that was worth considering. She took the deal, and was shipped off to what could only be considered a training camp.

It was harder than she’d imagined. Survival training, schooling, languages – but most importantly, power training. She learned more about how her body worked, the differences inside her system. The physical aspect was demanding, but the mental…Oh, that she enjoyed. It turned into a strange sort of experimental entertainment for her. Going into a room of tear gas, of poison gas, of mustard gas, to see what reaction, if any, her body would have. They learned the reaction time it took for different types of chemical agents, radiation; the scientist side of her came out, cataloguing results and records.

There were no visitation stays or time outs for her ‘sentence’ – she watched the news with other recruits, shocked and appalled by the lengths to which the Church of Humanity was willing to go. Destruction, blood…She followed Alex Summers’ case with avid interest. A Horseman of War, arrested and facing punishment. It was a thought provoking manner, the case itself, and to be honest, she refused to pass judgment, even as those around her bandied about comments and remarks.

Away from it all, Carmilla watched as New York City was again nearly decimated, and this time a man being accused so many crimes jumped for the forefront for a city that was half ready to condemn him. There was so much death and destruction, and she threw herself back into training, because now it wasn’t just about repaying a debt to those she’d killed. Now it was about wanting to help.

SKRULLS

At a training outpost, Carmilla never even knew something was wrong. There was no warning, no fighting, nothing to indicate anything was abnormal, as the complacency wave struck. She wasn’t replaced or kidnapped, she wasn’t important or in a place of knowledge. Carmilla was just as happy as ever to lead a complacent way of life from the wave. Thinking back, it was a weird sort of peace, something she hadn’t felt since she was a child. No complications, no troubles…Unnatural, if you asked her. She might as well have been asleep. A highly unappreciative Carmilla was briefed afterwards about what had happened.

CURRENT HISTORY (Illuminati/Phoenix SiteWide)
[The board runs on current time. Please see Here for board history. Apocalypse lasted for 1 week, almost FOUR years ago. Purifiers was a slow burn up into the attack on New York and the Skrulls lasted for just a few days in the minds of the general populace. The Illuminati attacked systematically over the better part of a year, with the Phoenix event lasting less than a day at the end of it. What have you been doing since then?] Also note that some factions will require different aspects of history. If you're not sure, contact staff or the faction leader for the faction your character is apping to be in.

As she proved herself more loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D. through training, picking up languages and techniques, she was given more leeway. She was given agent status, although on a probationary period. Always sent out with an older agent, one who was in charge, usually smaller missions that rarely led to clashes or fights. It was tedious, but Milla proved herself willing to do grunt work without complaint. It wasn’t glamorous, or even very exciting, but it was work, and it was more to learn. She proved herself a keen thinker, even in unexpected situations, capable of working through problems in the field, just as capable of getting things done without needing to use her powers.

And honestly, she liked that. It was a chance she’d never thought she’d have, being able to function not only while in control of her powers, but to do good things without necessarily needing to resort to using her stinger. Oh, there was inevitable occasions when she was forced to use her powers – mild toxic effects, sedation, and of course she was not above having to kill at times. But it was in control, not done by accident in a moment of panic. That made all the difference.

She was deployed in a five man team in New York City’s Mutant Town when Namor attacked on New Years – that was…Hell, that was weird as fuck, and she had to admit, it was easily the strangest attack she’d ever seen. Most of her team was just as stunned by the development, but they had orders. Helping to evacuate from areas, Cara’s team was kept pretty busy, and they stayed after the fight to help clean up, helping people in the city fix a few things.

Before they could relax, Spiral’s flurry of madbombs and disaster struck, and Scorpion’s team was deployed alternating with others, forced into the city to calm riots, trying to keep the civilians from self-destructing. In this way, Scorpion was quite helpful, as many people had decided to try to make their own destruction, and with her immunity to smoke and toxins, she was often one of the few people capable of going into dangerous situations and coming out unharmed, often carrying or dragging injured people with her.

The chaos in the world was overwhelming as the Illuminati attacks kept coming, piling up, and it was exhausting. Exodus’ attack hit Carmilla hard, the nightmares haunting her – and she had plenty of bad memories for fuel. Her two to four hours of sleep a night dwindled, her temper fraying, although she was careful with it – her powers would be dangerous untended, and she was utterly unwilling to risk hurting her teammates, no matter how irritated and sleepless she was. Even her team was bitchy, sniping at each other, until the darkness drew everyone together again.

The dark covering the world was the most terrifying thing Carmilla had seen. How close the world came to dying just then, to potentially see everything wither and die without the sun…That was horrifying. And when the Illuminati attacks culminated, her team was held back for damage control. Spiral’s attack in Mutant Town was vicious and sharp, but there was more than that. The civilians didn’t know what to do, where to go. There were plenty of fighters, people to face down Spiral – her team moved methodically through the city, evacuating civilians, taking down a few people more interested in looting than living.

When the Illuminati were defeated, things started going back to normal. Regular missions, training schedule – except that she was given more freedom now. Carmilla had proven herself trustworthy during the attacks, and willing to put herself in the way to protect others, especially her teammates. Now, she’s back to working with SHIELD, using her powers to help others.

SAMPLE RP POST:

The hand clamped around her wrist was slowly stained by the green color that seemed to ooze from her very pores. Fingers tightening in an almost painful grip, and she could feel the strangely enlarged node in her armpit pulse, as that poisonously vibrant green aura kept blooming inside her arm. It wasn’t liquid, or gaseous, but somehow it slid from her skin and wrapped around the hand holding her, tracing tendrils up the arm, where the man’s face was pulled into a sudden, vicious grimace. Dark green eyes stared up into wide brown, hers resigned, his shocked. She felt his body convulse before he realized it was happening, and she yanked her hand back with a cry, stemming the release of toxins. The body of the man fell with a strangled sound, foam leaking from the corner of his mouth as she backed away.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Carmilla woke with a start, sweat beading on her forehead, her left fist clenched against the metal gauntlet that kept her poison in check, feeling the normally cool metal warmed from her body heat. Glancing at the alarm clock that had finally stopped beeping, she scowled, grinding one hand against her eyes. The nightmares were getting worse – reliving not just the times she’d killed, but the feeling. The fact that some small part of her thoroughly enjoyed that sweet release of toxic chemical buildup each time she touched someone. Shivering as the cooler air dried the sweat from her skin, the woman forced herself up, going through the routine she always did.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. issued uniform she wore was meant to put up with the same punishment she could – the flexible fabric smooth and sleek, linking easily into the silver gauntlet protecting her ‘stinger’. Deep green hair was braided down her back, and she grabbed a towel and a water bottle before heading towards the science lab. Physical training would come later, but with the Illuminati attacking, her training was focusing on what her body could withstand. Lunging into a burning building despite the smoke, to rescue people trapped – that was where she stood out against others.

But her limits had yet to be recognized, and she was pretty sure the science guy was getting a thrill out of each session. He greeted her with a far-too-cheery greeting, and clapped her on the back as she walked in, handing her a Danish. “…Is it poisoned?” The mutant woman grinned at him as he shook his head, giving her an obviously fake look of sadness. “You think so little of me, Cara! Would I do that??” Rolling her eyes as she took a bite, she sat on the table with a snicker of laughter.

“Yeah, Mike, I’m pretty sure you would. At least make it something interesting for me, not something stupid like cyanide or arsenic. C’mon, I’m counting on you to be creative.” Flashing him a smile, she finished off the Danish and offered him her right arm, sleeve already rolled up. He clucked at her, pulling a syringe off the counter and shaking his head. “There you go again, thinking little of me. Creative death is my thing, you know that.” Then he blinked, and paused, the needle hovering over her skin. “…I need to get out more, don’t I?”

The pinch of the needle was nothing, overshadowed by Carmilla’s extremely loud laugh, throwing her head back in amusement. He grinned even as he injected the substance, and she sobered slowly, finally looking back down as he withdrew the needle, covering the puncture with a bandaid. For a second, nothing seemed to happen. Then, Carmilla licked her lips. The science guy stepped a few feet away, to the table, setting the syringe down, eyes never leaving her, as she flexed her fingers for a moment.

“…Damn, Mike, th-” Having laid back on the table only moments before, Scorpion’s words were cut off as a violent contraction forced her body to the side, feeling the muscles in her throat convulse. With intense precision, she catalogued each pain, the seizure releasing her body for a split second, as her powers kicked in. Her lymphatic system kicked into steam, absorbing the toxin and redirecting it, and she felt her muscles relax again, slowly sitting back up. Rubbing her gloved hand against the injection site, she made a face. “VX nerve agent, right?” Rolling her shoulders as the drug filtered through her system, the side effects already gone, to be collected in her arm, she gave a small smile as Mike grinned at her.

“Yep. Good job. You know the drill – fill out your responses, then you can head to the gym. Always a pleasure, Carm.” Giving a quiet laugh at his enthusiasm, she slid to the computer, quickly filling out the usual questions about the session, before sliding out the door. “Thanks for the pastry, Mike. And nice try, I still noticed the belladonna in it.” His laughter followed her out as she exited, trying not to laugh.
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Havok
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Superheated Plasma Blasts
Only thing is can you scale this picture down a little bit, it stretches the screen.

Other than that, good app

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Betsy Braddock
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Telepathy (I'm not a bloody ninja)
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Remember to add yourself to the lists :P
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