Mia Moretti
PL: 6 (120pp)
Abilities: STR: 10 (+0) DEX: 20 (+5) CON: 14 (+2) INT: 12 (+1) WIS: 10 (+0) CHA: 16 (+3)
Skills: Bluff 10 (+13), Climb 4 (+4), Disable Device 4 (+5), Drive 8 (+13), Escape Artist 8 (+13), Knowledge [Pop Culture] 6 (+7), Knowledge [Streetwise] 8 (+9), Notice 6 (+6), Sense Motive 8 (+8), Sleight of Hand 8 (+13), Stealth 8 (+13), Languages (Italian, Thai; Base: English)
Feats: All-Out Attack, Attack Focus [Ranged] (5), Defensive Roll (2), Dodge Focus (2), Equipment (3), Improved Initiative (2), Improved Trick, Power Attack, Precise Shot (2), Quickdraw,
Powers: Blast 5 (Extra: Auto-Fire x2 [+2], Penetrating [+1]; Flaws: Required a Gun [-1]; Power Feats: Improved Critical [3], Improved Range [2], Ricochet; 26pp), Telekinesis 4 (Flaws: Limited – Guns [-2]; 2pp), Super Senses 2 (Acute Detect Fire Arms; 2pp)
Combat: Attack +2 (+7 Ranged) [Unarmed +0, Guns +5; 17-20 Crit] Defense 18 (13 flat-footed) Init +13
Saves: Toughness +4 (2 flat-footed) Fortitude +5 Reflex +9 Will +5
Equipment: Pistol [+3 Damage; 6ep], 1969 Shelby Mustang [Strength: 25; Speed: 5; Defense: 9; Toughness: 8; Size: Large; Alarm; 9ep]
Abilities 22 + Skills 20 (80 Ranks) + Feats 20 + Powers 30 + Combat 16 + Saves 12 – Drawbacks 0 = 120pp
Complications: Hatred (Cosa Nostra), Obsession (Family's Murder), Secret
Background:
Last night was her first night in town and Mia figured it would be beneficial for her to go out and socialize with the locals. Integrate and observe. And as any 26 year old American beauty would do, Mia danced, flirted and never once found the bottom of her endless supply of cocktails thanks to the testosterone overloaded playboys who found her intriguing to say the least. Quite honestly, Mia did have a mission. However, she didn’t find out much information on the topics she was hoping to. She did have a kickin’ time of it though. These people knew how to party and she was all to happy to join in the fun.
The next morning, Mia woke up feeling as if her head was about to explode. She stumbled out of bed and reached into her purse to fish out a bottle of pain killers which she promptly downed two of with the help of some Absolut left over from last night’s bender. She was going to feel the pains of her exploits until noon, she was sure of it. But there was no rest for the weary so they say and Mia had to get her butt moving whether she wanted to or not.
Somehow she managed to make her way into the dingy bathroom to try to clean herself up some. She stopped at the sink and peered at her face in the through the spidered cracks in the mirror. Her eyes were blood shot and framed by dark mascara which extended down her cheeks. Not only did she feel like sh*t, she looked like sh*t. A dee p sigh escaped her lips as she brought her hands up to cup her face. "You need one night at a Holiday Inn girl." Mia said out loud before she turned the faucet on only to see it sputter and spit before finally spilling forth the rust-tinged dirty water. "You’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me." She looked back to the mirror and closed her eyes. "How the hell did you get here anyway?" That’s when all of the memories began to flood back into her aching head.
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A 16 year old, Mia knelt before the coffin in her knee-length black dress. Her hands were folded in prayer. Uncle Mike was dead. Twelve bullets had wrecked his body outside of a convenience store in the Bronx. He was the unfortunate victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. They told her that he had walked in on a robbery in progress but Mia knew better. She had heard the rumors the kids at school told about her family and she had denied them furiously even now when she had proof of their underhanded dealings. The houses, the cars, the private school, the clothes, her mother’s jewelry - they all had to come from someplace and that someplace was not from a restaurant owner’s meager salary. ‘The Butcher’, that’s what they called her father - ‘Butch’ for short, and the head of the Moretti Crime Family.
Funerals were sacred and off limits. No business was conducted and everyone came to pay their respects regardless of family or position. No weapons were allowed in the funeral home and if you were caught with one, you were promptly escorted out. That was just the way it was. It was an unspoken rule and generally no one broke it - until tonight.
Mia had just finished her prayers and stood up to lean over and kiss her uncle’s cheek when the first shot rang out. Her father, who was standing beside her, took the hit to his shoulder. Mia saw her father stumble back and grab his arm. "Daddy!" She yelled as all hell broke loose. Instead of one gunman, there were many. The loud bangs cracked through the air as if someone set off a box full of M80s.
"GET DOWN!" Butch grabbed his daughter by the arm and threw her to the floor to protect her as he took another hit, this time to the chest. "Daddy!" Mia shrieked as she hit the hardwood. What happened next was wrong on so many levels but it would save her life and be the last ‘gift’ her father would ever give her. "I’m sorry baby." He sputtered as he grabbed the open coffin and flipped it over on top of Mia.
Crushed by the weight of her dead uncle, Mia screamed and closed her eyes as tightly as she could. It was so loud. Gunshots, people yelling, chairs toppling, bodies falling, the scene was absolutely chaotic. At some point when the coffin was20shoved back a couple of feet, Mia opened her eyes. Thanks to the lid that propped up the box to some degree, there was just enough space for her to see a little of what was going on. Her mother was dead. Her two older brothers, all were dead among many others. Things started to quiet down when someone came by and kicked the coffin. "You tink dats dah dead guy or you tink sumthin’s under dere?" One man said as another replied. "I dunno lift it up and find out."
Mia froze and held her breath. Her gaze swept the area immediately surrounding her. Luckily there was an abandoned gun not far from the opening in the coffin. If she could just reach it. , Her shaky hand inched across the floor until her fingertips brushed the edge of the cool metal. Unknown fingers curled over the wood beside her head and began to lift the coffin as a face peered beneath it. "Jesus H ..." The face yelled as he brought his gun around to point it at her. "What? What?" the owner of the fingers screamed.
‘Oh God no.’ Mia tried to reach the gun but it was kicked from her reach. The frightened expression on the young girl’s face turned suddenly calm as she stared at the man. ‘You will not shoot me.’ she thought. ‘You will not shoot me.’ Mia repeated to herself as she saw the man’s finger twitch on the trigger. ‘You will NOT shoot me.’ And just then, in that terrifying moment, the gun was ripped from the man’s hand by an unseen force and landed somewhere across the room. "What the ...."
"Police! Drop your weapons and get your hands up!"
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His name was Riley, Agent Ryan Riley, and he was assigned to guard and protect Mia throughout the trial. Afterward, he would be given the task to integrate her into the Witness Protection Program which turned out to be a complete failure. Given the circumstances, no foster family would take Mia regardless of her new identity. Agent Riley, for reasons unknown to her still, voluntarily to Mia to a hoo-dunk town outside of Minneapolis to give her a new life. Their M.O. - He was her godfather. How ironic.
Riley was ten years her senior and George Clooney-esque. Mia hated him simply because he was all about her all the time but, eventually, he grew on her and she began to trust him. "No, you gotta stand with your feet shoulder-length apart, like this. That’s right. Now bring your arms up, left hand beneath your right as you hold the gun. That’s my girl." Riley taught her everything from how to use a gun to how to bait a hook. However, as Mia grew up, and their intellectual age-gap grew shorter, their relationship started to strain.
One evening at the staged police combat firing range Mia and Riley’s confusing relations hip would combust. "I know you know, Riley. I want names." Mia said as she fired off a shot to take down a supposed assailant that was hiding behind a pillar. She ducked back down behind her cover and dropped her empty cartridge on the floor before snapping in full one while Riley took his shot.
"Mia ... I don’t know who is hired them. I told you this before." He said simply before he crouched down and darted to new cover while she followed.
"Fine. Then help me find them."
"No." Riley looked at her deadpan and then shifted his gaze over their cover indicating she needed to take her shot.
Mia held his gaze for a long moment and pursed her lips in mute anger before she hopped up and took not only her shot but his with one single bullet.
"How the hell did you do that?" He asked as the lights came on indicating their game was over.
"Easy. I’m just that freakin’ good." Mia turned her back on him and walked off the scene.
"Hey!" Riley jogged to catch up to her. "I am not, under any circumstances, going to help you walk into a lion’s den. We’ve talked about this. You’re a fool if you think you’ll come out of it alive."
Mia whipped around, her face stopping dangerously short of his. "With or without you Riley, I wil l find them and I will murder every single one of them in their sleep, with their backs turned, if I have to. You know I will." And with that said, Mia walked away from Riley and wouldn’t see him again until that night after she had slipped a sleeping pill into his drink.
Once he had been asleep for a few hours, Mia went up to his bedroom and laid down next to him resting her head on his shoulder. For a long moment she remained there watching his chest rise and fall with every precious breath. "Forgive me." Mia whispered as she brushed her lips along his jaw before she forced herself to get up. In the morning she would be gone, the money from his wallet and the pearl-handled Beretta he bought her to further her competition sportsmen prospect would be missing as well.
That was 6 years ago.
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The faucet began to sputter again bringing Mia back from her trip down memory lane. Finally, clean-ish water. Of all of the places she had been in the past six years, from one coast of the U.S. to the other and a handful of countries in between, Gohn Gam, Thailand was a rathole but man they had one rockin’ club scene. All partying and hangovers aside, she had things to do today. Her first stop after she got cleaned up ... St. Conrad Church or, as the locals call it, The Church of Saints Smith & Wesson.
by Libra » Sat Jan 24, 2009 5:34 am 
If so, we are in