heavyhitter: she was going to try to keep me down (had to kill the new sheriff in town)
ana ramír | TARANTO ([personal profile] heavyhitter) wrote2015-02-23 08:17 pm
Entry tags:

app for carvaka

Name: Liz
Means of Contact: plurk: buttadventure
Age: (You must be 18+ to enter.) 25
Other Characters Played: Brooklyn

Name: Ana Ramir
Journal: heavyhitter
Canon: original
Age: 18
Canon Point: Shortly after hearing news about her grandma.

World Description:
Ramir’s world is based on our own, with a mild sprinkling of superpowers that are rare enough to have flown under the radar and remained myths and legend. Countries and major cities are all represented, and the only real change is the people in the world. Modern politicians, actors, and works of fiction are all changed just slightly from real-world versions.

As far as the superpowers go, although Ramir doesn’t know this and isn’t likely to ever find out — they’re passed genetically through the female side of the family. One woman inherits the power when the older woman dies. Not that this matters or comes into play, but here are a few more tidbits: If there’s no living female descendant, the power is harbored in a male descendant until a female descendent is born. In the case of multiple female descendants, it can be assigned seemingly at random, or split between them. If there are no descendants, the line of power dies with the last user.

As far as the actual story goes, it starts with Elisabetta Faraldo. She was born in a relatively well-off family in Taranto, Italy and, generally speaking, wanted for nothing. She was a content child, if a little overly curious and too adventurous for her own sake. She had a vivid imagination who always found her surroundings too dull, and was continually disappointed by the way her life was exactly nothing like the exciting lives in movies and comics. But she did the best with what she had, even if it earned her a reputation for terrorizing other children.

Things picked up a little after a visit to her father by an older woman, when Elisabetta was 11. Elisabetta, spying and hoping for a clandestine meeting as she was wont to do, learned that this woman was her estranged grandmother, Jolanda Faraldo. That was pretty interesting. She also picked up that her grandmother was involved in something that her father wanted absolutely no part of, much to her grandmother’s apparently continued disappointment. That and the obvious strife between them was enough to pique Elisabetta's interest. She promptly stowed herself in the trunk of her grandmother’s car in the driveway and hitched a ride all the way back to where ever her grandmother had come from, because that's definitely the sort of thing that happens in movies.

Her destination turned out to be a beautiful estate in the countryside of Sicily, which was considerably more populated and busy than Elisabetta had expected. She was caught even before she’d had much of a chance to explore, and promptly presented to her grandmother, the donna Faraldo, who seemed a little more important here than Elisabetta had counted on. She headed everything and tell everyone what to do, actually, in the most impressive way. Fortunately, her grandmother was amused at the audacity of her granddaughter. She didn’t send her home, and even helped Elisabetta concoct the excuse of a summer camp to explain her absence.

Elisabetta had found a home away from home. She stayed there as often as she could for the next 3 years, growing up in the middle of what she began to discover was the head of a Mafia family. Her grandmother and her grandmother’s men took to calling her Taranto, which Elisabetta had no qualms about. It was a better name than her own was for this kind of a place. Less stuffy, more important. Her grandmother was pleased to have her granddaughter around, after the disappointment her only son had caused when he proved to want nothing to do with the family business. She was happy to educate “Taranto” about whatever she wanted to know, and was delighted that the girl was so interested in the proceedings. And of course, Taranto began to learn about the donna Faraldo, too. She learned that even in her old age, the woman had a curious strength and hardiness that had saved her and her men countless times. She'd even survived dozens of attempts on her life, shootings, stabbings, you name it. She had a reputation for being made of steel, and all enemies feared her. Taranto was fully enamored.

But these things never really last. Tensions between families were rising, and someone caught onto the importance of Taranto and her family to the donna Faraldo. Elisabetta was followed home, somewhere that had always been seen as safe by virtue of distance and non-involvement, leading a hit man from a rival family to his targets. Her parents were shot to death as a message to donna Faraldo. Jolanda immediately regretted keeping young and inexperienced Elisabetta around somewhere so suddenly risky, and banned her from anything to do with the Faraldo family practice. She sent her into foster care, which Elisabetta would have none of. Maybe it was the shocked grief of suddenly losing both parents, and now her grandmother on top of that. Or maybe she’d just seen exactly what she wanted, and it was not the life a loving foster family would provide.

She left. She changed her name, buried her grief, covered her tracks, and disappeared into the streets of Bologna, Florence, Rome, where ever. She was determined to become the kind of person that the donna Faraldo would find useful — not a little girl that had to be protected and sent away when it was dangerous, but someone who could earn their place in the family. Ana Ramir begun to take shape on the foundations of Elisabetta and Taranto. She traveled further still, wandering her way through Europe and picking up languages and skills. She made it to New York by the time she was 16 and quickly learned the rules of harsh living on a whole 'nother continent. (Step one was to lose the English accent she’d learned, and pick up an American accent instead. It makes you less of a target.)

It was part way into her second year in the US when a curious thing happened: she began to change. Just a little bit at first. Sometimes she lifted things easily that grown men had trouble with, sometimes during a dash after some petty crime or another, her second wind kicked in and never left again. But when an outbreak of violence caught up with her in the Bronx and a knife actually broke off rather than pierce her skin, Ramir knew she was really onto something. Something genetic, maybe. Definitely something that would let her finally come home and prove Jolanda proud.

It didn't take too much work to look up the contact information of the family's consigliere, who had always been a favorite of hers, and Ramir excitedly placed the call as soon as she could snag a cellphone with the right international plan. The excitement didn't last, though. 3 months ago, she learned, the enemies of the donna Faraldo had finally gotten to her, and drowned the aging woman in the Platani River. Yes, the consigliere explained, they knew the responsible party, and yes of course they would be taking action, as soon as they could muster the manpower and organize, but Ramir had stopped listening. She even gave back the phone, which she had originally decided she'd be keeping for as long as it kept working.

Background Information:

Ramir knows what she wants. She knows what she wants, and it's very likely she has a plan to get it — or at the very least, the will to throw herself into the deep end flail around wildly until she manages to snag what she was after. You know, whatever works. This seems to be her strategy for most things, actually. Make a loud, crass ruckus, and end up with what you want. Ramir has learned that she can achieve almost anything by being loud, obnoxious, overly confident, and persistent enough. Most of the rest of the world gives up more quickly than she does when it comes to butting heads with people, which is very handy when your livelihood depends on your reputation. And it's not like Ramir is ever after anything too unreasonable. Mostly. She just wants to scrounge up enough money to make it through the day/week/month, maybe pocket anything that looks interesting, and possibly become the head of a Mafia family. She's pretty much willing to do whatever it takes to get her to her next goal, whatever that happens to be at the time — and most of her goals are motivated by keeping herself amused.

There's something under all the loud obnoxiousness she keeps up, though. Underneath it all, Ramir is collection of slyer traits: clever, ambitious, and observant. She's clever enough to have survived on her own from age 14 onward, ambitious enough to have decided to work toward a high position in a Mafia family from age 11 onward, and observant enough to know her way around people. She knows how to read them, even while she's being her over-the-top self. She knows how to gauge the people around her, who not to trust, and what strategy to use to get what she wants out of someone. True, that last one is a work in progress, and she's still not as good at it as her personal hero (good old granny), but she's working on it. The donna Faraldo could manipulate with the very best of them, and passed on plenty of lessons to young Taranto. Her learned manipulations range from slow and subtle, to outright and blunt. She knows how to compliment, how to make someone feel interesting and liked. She knows how to turn on the charm and good humor, the better to raise her target's mood and likeliness to grant a favor — and she knows to reward helpfulness and goodwill with praise and return favors. These are the nice manipulations, the sort she learned to use when she it's best to build good relationships and secure herself repeat benefactors.

And then there's the other side of the spectrum that Jolanda taught her, the sort to use when she doesn't need a friend of someone, only to get her desired outcome. There's always blackmail, of course, and no good schemer is above that. Threats of physical violence are handy, but only if you're completely ready and able to back them up. A little more subtle is an appeal to her target's pride: playing the part of a humbled loser, ready to admit defeat, the all better to turn the tables with a sudden and unexpected attack. Above all else, donna Faraldo taught her, when you strike, make it the last strike.

...These are the things she knows, but then, of course, employing them is another matter sometimes. Her loud act isn't just an act. She really is brash and impulsive, motivated by self-interest and whatever seems like most fun at the time, and she definitely has a temper. Her anger is loud and explosive, just like the rest of her temperament, but it blows over and goes forgotten almost immediately. Really, there isn’t very much that really gets to her. She’ll have petty fights with just about anyone, friend or not, and half the time she’s decided to forget it and be friends again before the end of the encounter. (The other half the time she has a plan to get malicious and probably hilarious revenge — but don’t worry, things will be even after that. No need for a grudge.)

That is, unless she's actually hurt or wronged. Those who seriously wrong her find a colder anger and a grudge that can hold out for years. This side of her doesn't come up very often, though, and there hasn't been too much in her life that can't be solved by a few rounds of shouting and some traded punches… But there is one large thing that Ramir carries a spark of lasting anger for. One thing that, if she were to consciously think about it, could fan the flames into a truly passionate rage that would never simply blow out on its own. One thing that is actually too large to consider right now: the family that murdered her parents and finally got to her grandmother. She doesn’t think about them. She can’t. Not yet, not while the wounds are fresh, and while she has so much to learn. Because when that anger rises, she knows there won’t be any setting it aside until she’s torn apart and ruined whoever was responsible. She’s not ready for that quest quite yet. She has too much growing to do before she can deal a blow worthy of all of her loses, so she simply hasn’t consciously addressed it within herself yet. That anger is kept tucked safely away inside.

There’s one last side that comes up even more rarely than Ramir’s serious anger. That’s the side of Elisabetta Faraldo, who lost both her parents in one loud, explosive night, and then was cast from the side of her favorite person in the world in response. While Ramir will eventually let herself feel the rage over this, Elisabetta is the one that harbors the grief, and there are no plans to release it. This side of her also desperately wants to prove herself worthy of love and warmth, and craves finding what she had with Jolanda again. She wants to find the sense of beloved importance she had with her, she wants to be someone’s favorite. She wants her family. She’s willing to go to great lengths to get that, and it could easily prove the root of dozens of bad decisions. If anyone manages to worm past her learned suspicions and street smarts, or begins to fulfill those unexpressed cravings of hers, they would find themselves with an intense and possibly ill-advised loyalty, transplanted straight from her relationship with Jolanda. Ramir might tell herself that this is just her drive to build up a trusted family like donna Faraldo had, but it’s more than that. She’s easily able to be blinded by affection for anyone who reminds her of what she’s lost, and she would give away too much to keep that connection, should she find it. It’s a weakness she’s not only unaware of, but happy to have exploited if it would mean even just the illusion of familial love.

She stands at a whopping 5’5, and is somewhere between softly curved and decently muscled. “Slender” is definitely not a word anyone would use for her. She dresses in a distinctly punk style, with her hair kept short, a studded leather jacket, and combat boots. She looks pretty classically Italian, with olive skin, hazel eyes, and dark hair. She speaks with an American accent, and doesn’t go anywhere without her favorite dark red lipstick.

Superstrength: Not quite Superman levels yet, but it's close. She could pick up a car and throw it at someone, but bigger feats of strength will take training and growing.

Invulnerability: Unless you've got one hell of a weapon, she generally can't be shot, stabbed, or bludgeoned with any lasting effect. Her skin repels cuts, her bones resist force, and even fire can't do much more than singe. A lightsaber would probably do the trick, though. Drowning definitely would.

Enhanced system: She has increased speed, metabolism, and stamina, although these aren't on the same level as her strength and invulnerability. They're just, y'know, better than human.

First Person:
[ video ]
[ Front and center is a frown, and the owner of the frown is pretty much the only thing on screen, as she leans close over whatever communicator it is she’s picked up. ]

That’s shitty. There’s, like, no signal in post apocalyptic wasteland. Who knew, right? [ Clicking, as a few buttons are rapidly hit. She’s either talking to herself, or just doesn’t care that she has an audience. ] Come on, this thing doesn’t even have Sugar Smush. If you’re gonna imagine up a phone for someone, couldn’t it at least be a working one?

[ The view flips over to show off the (plain and unremarkable) ground as she checks the phone over for all angles, and finally there’s a sigh. ]

Ah, whatever. [ Ramir comes back into sight again, unimpressed. ] So this is it, huh? I kinda figured we’d go out with a bang, not a sad flop. Who wants to organize a protest? We’ll demand better entertainment for our after-Earth parties. Or nachos. Or something. Come on, I’ll make the picket signs.

Third Person:

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