Character Name: Patricia Pan
Status: On the run, currently on Earth, if briefly.
Hair: Slightly curly, dirty blonde- Darker near the top, and lighter near the bottom.
Eyes: Like the mingling of the twilight's dark blue and the last rays of the sun- A beautiful jade that pierces into one's soul; the iris of a clever cat and yet deeply scarred by sadness.
Height: 5'6" Or in other words, moderately or normally tall.
Figure: Limber with long limbs, almost clumsily large feet. She's built for running, jumping, dodging, and twisting out of grasps.
Other: She wears a long, flowing scarf to cover a serial number burned into her neck- 444KILKVIGB, which in a code (That I made up) spells 444PROPERTY.
Clothing: Patricia enjoys the luxury of the color green, with casual shirts in a dark or light shade of it, long thick blue-jeans, and brown leather shoes. Also, she owns an odd green fedora-like hat with a lengthy red feather in it.
Family: Lyla Pan, died of a broken heart- 1670 to 1700; Bryan Pan, died of madness- 1666 to 1700. Both with red hair and blue eyes, and she had a brunette sister named Wendy who went on to be a journalist and a writer.
Personality: Strongly defiant, in other words she doesn't take orders from anyone or anything, in preference of getting an explanation and then, by her interpretation, following through. Patricia is a wild flame in the darkness, a green inferno, yet a bundle of laughter, observance, and a bit of a trickster... Though this is only the pretty wrapping paper to the depression beneath. She enjoys being around children, less so adults.
Playing jokes and poking fun are her man stratagem, though she is also very clever. One could very well call her an empath for all she notices of others emotions... Patricia learned the hard way to know when someone was lying, when someone couldn't stand her, and when someone was simply a jerk.
1) Can pilot- Crude to Moderate Difficulties of Spaceships *Easy to normal, universal standards*
2) Quite Strong *Earth Standards*
3) Clever, quick learner- Can think her way out of a difficult situation
4) Silver Tongued- Lies easily, hard to tell when she is.
1) LARGE TEMPER- Long fuse, but explosive when angered.
2) Doesn't trust easily- She rarely if ever calls someone "Friend"
3) She cannot be persuaded against a topic she doesn't believe in- Good or bad.
4) Doesn't tend to listen to adults....
1) Problems that require a lot of thought, but not effort.
2) Beautiful scenes in nature- Mostly involving clean air and open spaces.
3) Animals- She takes a particular liking to foxes, wolves, and cats both domestic and big
4) Spending time with the youth of any civilization- Human or alien.
1) Doctors and scientists- From a deep seeded, hidden terror she won't admit.
2) Closed Spaces, Big Cities- Smog burns her nostrils.
3) Adults, especially those who claim superiority through age.
Dream: Originally, it was to become a teacher who went to underdeveloped nations to teach English and other languages, but after certain events *See history* Patricia just hoped she would survive to see another day. Her dream became to explore the universe and its darkest reaches- and maybe, just maybe, make some sort of difference.
History: Young, naive, bursting with life, the seven-year-old Patricia knew she was destined for greatness. She’d save the world- No, the galaxy- THE UNIVERSE, or so she declared. When put to question, she’d simply gesture to the jagged oval birthmark on her palm that she’d dubbed a pinecone- The significance or clarity of this was never clear, but so it was. As per seven-year-old logic, Patricia would simply brush away concerns or doubts with a What species is he? - Dead Time Agent.-sure grin and a childish laugh. She was a magnet for those thirsting for misadventures, and with as mischievous as she was, the girl could provide.
Nibs and Tootles, a pair of six-year-old twins, were always by her as her bestest friends of all. They, the three musketeers, stuck together through thick and thin. They’d do anything for each other, keep any secret, and go anywhere to protect even a single member of their Merry Band. And so, of course when the fondly nicknamed Peter suggested they go into the self-proclaimed ‘Haunted Wood’ to investigate the disappearance of the chubby Baker’s boy, Curly- They agreed. And in the year 1700, three friends went in. Nearly one hundred years later, the confused Patricia was the only one to return at the appeared age of eighteen.
Her heart broke at the sight of her town a mere pile of brick, but it was the headstones that really got to her. Among them, her mother and father, driven to heartbreak and madness in their search for her. And Tootles… Nibs… Curly… The girl finally broke down, falling to her knees and sobbing.
What had happened exactly, we’ll skip through- It’d only give one nightmares to pry open their eyes at night in fear and worry.
What you’d only need to know was that in their fervent search, they were taken by a strange cyan light and onto a strange silver bird that didn’t need to beat its wings, thrown in a cage like beasts, and experimented on like lab rats. They were branded like property, treated like dirt, and in such pain they thought that they’d been sent to Hell. And their tortures, were simply and forever called the Ones: Creatures that Nibs said looked like beetles with their claws and antennae; that Tootles likened to lizards with their scales and tails; and ones Curly said sounded like monkeys. They injected them with things called “nanites” or so they said. And it caused them such pain, that they wanted to die…
Peter, on the other hand, kept them smiling and formulating a plan to escape, all four of them together. As eleven years went past, they remained in the cage, plotting and perfecting- The tight space, however, got to her and in the night she’d cry when all the others were asleep, thinking the walls were slowly closing in on her.
Perhaps the plan, when put into action, could’ve been successful if they hadn’t celebrated their knocking out of the guard.
Curly was the first to go, bleeding out on the ground when he could go no further. He never made it to the small silver bird chained to the larger one that kept them captive for so long. The twins made it, but Tootles died of blood loss as he was strapped in. Nibs went in the trial and error flight she provided, and never saw the crash land into the woods they’d disappeared into all those years ago. Peter suffered from many injuries and broken bones, but by then the eighteen year old was ready to suffer the same fate as her friends.
She closed her eyes.
The nanites, dormant for so long, sparked to life, and did as they were programmed to do. They began the long process of fixing every single bit of traumatized flesh on Peter’s bruised body. It had to repair, cell by cell, broken bones. Knit tissue. Fix bruises and bumps on and inside the head. Jumpstart a heart frozen by shock. All in all, it took one hundred years, preserving her features as they were programmed to do- Scanning her when she’d been healthy. They now hummed to life in her veins.
Peter woke up.
Hence we return to her in the rubble of her village. The only thing to comfort the girl was that the forest was the same… Yet now, she appreciated every single bright shade within it, especially the greens.
The nanites kept her alive as she returned to the ship, still in good condition. Patricia buried the bones of the twins next to her parents, and got the ship in the air after (quite) a few failed attempts. Thus she began to explore the earth- They preserved her as she figured out the ship ran on solar power, as it slowed considerably at night. When she grew tired of exploring her own world, she sought to leave the grief behind by taking to the stars, exploring closer galaxies and nearly dying so many times. The nanites merely hummed along happily.
In present day, she felt the strongest desire to return to the graves.
HOW DID YOU FIND US?: The magic of Google!!
Whether Peter was afraid, scared, or pessimistic right now was hard to say. To be fair, there were different classifications of each, and all neatly filed and stacked away in the back of her mind, gathering a thick film of dust. They came to light now.
To be pessimistic, she'd have to think negatively about a situation, the girl mused, munching on a carrot- Shadowy monsters that want to rip her flesh to the bone? Check.
Then came the difference between the words 'fear' and 'scare'. To be scared of something, she'd have to know what it was, what it did, and why to be cautious around it. Being scared was the anticipation of what was to come, to see your foe exactly as it came- Well, the Vashta, such delightful creatures, were hiding in the dark itself. She could see them and yet not, in a way.
To be afraid... One didn't know. One couldn't see. It was the very basis of the unknown, of the primal instincts man built up whilst waiting in the blackness in their pitiful ring of archaic light.
Transient thoughts flickered across her jade orbs, as she scanned the area. Running out of ideas, she took the box of matches out, and lit one, casting it into the void-
There was a sound like something going through a blender.
"Hungry, are we?" Peter mused, then through a bit of the carrot out to the beings- A bit to the left. In less than thirty seconds, she counted, it was devoured, and gone- The darkness seemed to swallow a bit more of the light, with a satisfied slurping noise. With a slight, nervous gulp, she cast the flashlight's beam out into the blackness, a narrow stream leading to her savior's location- The Vashta Nerada seemed to draw back from it, and an idea sparked into life.
"Alright Doctor... This is either going to be really stupid, or really smart..." Gritting her teeth, the girl took apart the light, and in the hollow compartment, wedged the sonic in, praying to whatever ruled the universe that it wouldn't break. When it proved to be a bit difficult, she simply ripped up the jacket, and tied the two together, casting an odd mixed light from the two.
Simply, she threw the remains chicken leg to the side of the light, and chucked the flashlight at the doctor.
Either he was an excellent, pro-star athlete that could catch...
Or she'd end up like the shredded remains of that chicken leg, her end a singular dirge of a satisfied noise.
The Vashta Nerada belched, then began to close in on their prey...