Wait, we are mentioning Monty Python...WITHOUT EVEN SINGING THE BRIGHT SIDE OF LIFE? WHAT IS THIS, HERESY! ALL OF YOU YOU DAMN, UNCLEAN AND FILTHY PEASANTS!
Later, I need to know, are you fine with carrying a couple of gold bars?
Later, I need to know, are you fine with carrying a couple of gold bars?
I don't know if it's for the RP ICly or it's a reference, forgive me if it is. Nah, I can carry a couple of bars on the RP, sure. FORGIVE ME IF IT'S A REFERENCE OR ANOTHER QUESTION.
I don't know if it's for the RP ICly or it's a reference, forgive me if it is. Nah, I can carry a couple of bars on the RP, sure. FORGIVE ME IF IT'S A REFERENCE OR ANOTHER QUESTION.
No, it's for the RP XD.
<Snipped quote by Simple Unicycle>
Yeah, just a room slowly filling itself with water as we are about to drown. That's morbid.
Also, just so you know, it's like 21:17 around here and I gotta do work tomorrow, so I might go to sleep at around 23:00 or so, and won't be on until 15:00 tomorrow...sooo...
@Lady Selune I finished my sheet. Apologies for the wall-of-text bio. I tend to get carried away.
Name: Kazimiera Andrysiak
False ID Name: Anna Slaski
Nationality: Polish
Age: Seventeen.
Height: Four feet, nine inches.
Weight: eighty-nine pounds (BMI 19.3)
Appearance: Her shortness being her only notable trait, Kazia is in most other ways fairly average. In part due to her height, and in part due to the way she styles her appearance, she is often taken to be several years younger than she actually is. She has an average, if slightly on the thin side, figure, dull hazel-blue eyes, and unremarkable wavy medium brown hair that hangs to the middle of her back. Aware that it’s too long for practicality, she normally keeps it braided and rolled into a low bun, and the flyaways held down with a colorful headscarf, though she has also been known to plait it into pigtails when attempting to appear more childlike.
Other Appearance: Kazia has fairly unblemished skin, save for a scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and a small vertical scar at the very corner of her mouth, from once being too close to an exploding window.
Superpower(s): Kazia’s power is rather passive- vocal mimicry. She can mimic nearly any sound she hears, from the full range of human voices to various bird songs and animal sounds. She has also proven adept at mimicking alarms, though she’s fairly useless at many other environmental sounds. It should also be noted, though she’s not entirely sure if this counts as part of what makes her special or if this is just a quirk of her mundane brain, that she has a nearly-perfect photographic memory. The combination of her memory and her mimicry is such that she is sort of a human tape recorder – she can listen in on a conversation and repeat it back days or weeks later, verbatim, and with the voices of the people who had originally spoken. Given the passive nature of her powers the only real limitation on them is the strain on her vocal chords, but an interesting quirk of them is that she doesn’t seem to have her own voice- whenever she must converse with someone, she uses phrases that she’s heard spoken around her in a variety of other people’s voices.
Skills: Kazia is conversational in Polish, reasonably understanding of Russian (As she was required to study it in school, and has some (broken) understanding of English, French, and German due to listening to the people around her. The nature of her power is such that she can use full sentences of any language she’s overheard with no accent or hesitation, but a lot of times what she says will not be entirely fit to the scene at hand, as there is no promising she understands all the words in all the sentences. She’s physically fit, though never properly trained, and a decent runner with good endurance. Also, she is known to be quite resourceful, if a bit impulsive.
Personality: Kazia is, to be summed up in one word, very reserved. She always prefers to listen rather than talk- though once she decides she can definitely trust people she will at least begin conversing with them, if not ever really “open up.” Her outlook on life is rather cynical, and she is normally rather sarcastic- though she does a good job of (externally, at least) seeming to be perfectly docile and naive. This said, she is decidedly not a killer, never having taken a life despite working in and around the front lines – if the resistance could even be seen as having a “front line”. Above all, she is fiercely loyal to whatever cause she puts herself behind.
History: Born in Warsaw in 1924 to an upper-middle-class family, Kazia lived a relatively normal childhood. She has one elder brother and a younger brother and sister, and her family is devoutly Catholic. She went to a public school for all six years of her primary school, and three years of grammar school.
In regards to her power she, and her family and friends, have known about it since she was little more than a toddler. She distinctly remembers one day in particular as the “onset” of her ability. She’d been toddling around the house while her mother was cooking and singing along to the radio, and then for whatever reason her mother had stopped and turned the radio off. She had wanted to hear more of the song, but didn’t have the words to ask, so instead had mentally replayed the song and sang along with her mother’s voice. Understandably her mother was absolutely confused, as her daughter who had never made a sound before had suddenly perfectly mimicked her voice, but they assumed it was just a quirky talent. They didn’t think it might have been something more until a few days after Kazia turned eight; she had overheard her mother and father arguing about something, and a few weeks after the argument confronted her mother about it by reciting it verbatim and then asking in her schoolteachers’ voice, “Now what was the meaning of THAT?”
Rumors of “magic” and such were prevalent, of course- but this was Poland, full of hyper-superstitious Catholics. And in any case, whatever this… quirk or power that Kazia had was, it seemed mundane enough to pass as a normal talent. She was everyone’s favorite study partner in school, given that she could repeat verbatim her teacher’s lectures, no matter how long ago they had been.
All in all she had a rather happy childhood…Until, that is, the bombs started falling, on September 1st, 1939. Kazia had been walking home from school, minding her younger siblings and entertaining them by singing various songs from the radio in the artists’ voices. A flight of aircraft, not like any they’d really seen before, flew in formation over the center of the city, dropping what she would later realize were bombs, though she wasn’t aware of that at the time. The blast, though they were over a kilometer away, was still enough to knock them off their feet, and immediately they saw the columns of smoke and fire. Fleeing to their home on the outskirts of the city, the younger children were the ones who had to describe to their mother what they had just seen.
Kazia’s older brother had recently enlisted in the Polish army, and her father- a reserve soldier – was soon called away. The church soon became a sanctuary for their family, a place they could go no matter what, and for a few hours at least shut out the terrible thought of what was going on outside.
On September 28th, the city was surrendered, prisoners of war taken. Kazia had no idea if her father and brother were in that number, dead, or perfectly safe elsewhere. The following Sunday found the family in church, of course, and that same Sunday the Germans marched in, took everyone at gunpoint into the courtyard, shot the bishop and priests and anyone else who dared make a sound of protest.
At first it seemed like the people would be broken by it. But then, not even a month later, there was a not-so-quiet rebellion, the secret Polish army. Quiet whispers that they were seeking people with “unusual skills” circulated. Finally, Kazia mustered her courage and went to TAP, convinced her ability would be outright rejected- it wasn’t like she had something terribly useful. It was much to her surprise when they seemed glad to have her, and even more to her surprise that she was shuffled around to increasingly more-important reconnaissance jobs. It seems she underestimated the value of a small, quiet listener.
Finally, she was shuffled over to a French operation that was working alongside the polish resistance, and then over to a British operation working alongside them, and now she’s landed here, still slightly befuddled as to what, exactly, is going on.
Equipment: Standard British issue, an assortment of the crude, handmade smoke and noisemakers that youth in the resistance were so fond of.
