Tarot

   
   Real Name: Laima Siliņa
   Renegade Name: Tarot
   Title: Master Thief
   Alignment: Lawful Neutral
   Age: 26
   Gender: Female
   Race: Human (Outlander)
   Hair: Black
   Eyes: Violet
   Height: 5' 11"
   Weight: 136 lbs
   Blood type: O-

   

   
   

   
Laima is extremely confident in her abilities and skills. She's worked with others in the trade and knows when a bad job when she sees one. Sometimes the challenge is the thing, however, so there are times to set aside caution and certainty. Those paying for her services are treated to a frank, succinct breakdown to set expectations. Only those that have contracted with her several times -- or their referrals -- get special perks, however; extreme jobs from outright strangers are met with due skepticism.

If backed into a corner, Laima is a fierce fighter with no compunction about harming or killing those that'd seek to kill her. She much rather avoid conflict, however. Earned fewer long-term enemies that way and put her life at less risk. To slip in and out of a job without anyone realizing they'd been robbed was the goal.

When not feigning interest in social circles of the elite to find new marks, Laima often spends her time overseeing or even working at various charitable organizations as the Anonymous Benefactor. Some people just needed a firm place to stand to get things together again; as someone that could empathize with their situation, Laima wanted to give people that chance. She doesn't hand out money directly, however. From personal experience, she knew people could get all kinds of bad ideas when you suddenly had a great deal of money -- and others might try to take it before you could put it to good use if you managed to avoid any bad ideas.

   
Laima Siliņa was born in Latvia to Rens and Vintra. They moved shortly afterward to Poland, where Laima grew up and studied into her adolescence. Little stood out from many others in this time; her academic scores were relatively high, she had several friends, and had met and broken up with a boy once.

When she was seventeen Laima was serving as a waitress in an underground gambling club. It paid well, the customers kept their hands to themselves (lest anyone accuse them of cheating), and it went toward her college fund. The illicit nature of the facility had been unsettling at first, but aside from a few unruly customers needing security to throw them out nothing truly outrageous occurred to call into question her presence. Until The Heist.

Having caught the eye of one of the robbers, they slowly pursued Laima as she scooted back over the floor from their grasp. They had the guns, they made the rules. At last she bumped into an overturned table, her hand blindly swept over the floor in search of something to defend herself with -- that she was out numbered and overpowered didn't even occur to her as panic began to set in. Suddenly, something filled her hand and her fingers instinctively tightened about it. When the man leaned in, Laima's hand shot up until a hard jerk halted it.

The knife in the man's neck broke the tension, and everyone else in the room began fighting with the robbers. All they'd needed was the first spark to light the fire. And the loss of one of the assailants helped. Laima didn't understand where the knife had come from unti a while later when another object was manifested from a photograph when she so desperately needed it. The King of Hearts, she thought, harkening back to the Club; his knife had appeared in her hand from one of the cards that'd been scattered on the floor.

Naturally, the first inclination Laima had was to manifest whatever she wanted. Why earn money when you could make things appear out of thin air? That led to her second life-altering circumstances when her -- and her family's -- economic status drastically changed for the better. Some elements wanted a slice of the pie not knowing it wasn't liquid cash one could ransom.

With the death of her parents, Laima fled to France to start over. There she began pursuing a discrete life of criminal acquisition of rare and valuable objects. Exchanging hard-to-acquire items for money made from a treasury was less attention grabbing; especially if you had a patron or two that valued your expertise. Laima began to use her power to supplement skills she learned on the job, rather than relying on them exclusively. The best lie was one wrapped in a fine veneer of truth, after all.

On a particular creepy heist involving occult members, Laima was confronted by two particularly mind-bending sights. The firt came at the altar where the loot was said to have been -- only there was no loot, and the entire job appeared setup to bring her to that precise location. A ghastly figure proclaimed something about 'Outlanders' and taking what rightfully belonged to them... really, it was obviously about to be a long winded speech, and it all felt wrong. The escape hadn't been without its pitfalls, of course. Lost most of the people that'd accompanied. Nearly died several times. Would end up recuperating for a week afterward; but not before the second sighting.

On the same night as a freak proclaiming her powers belonged to them, Laima came face to face with herself. Literally. From the future, if the implications could be believed -- or maybe an alternate timeline, but science fiction wasn't her thing. All she said was to never conjure or use a time machine or 'everything' would end. Some dire apocalypse harbinger-type stuff. Then the other her left. Short stay minimized the damage? If there was such a thing. Maybe it had all been a crazy delusion brought on by the fiend back at the altar. In any event, first Laima cursed herself for not even thinking about manifesting a time machine before then, and then she resolved to not bother. She'd already learned taking some shortcuts could cost you more than they were worth in the long haul.

Thankfully, after that, things calmed down. Aside from the usual world-ending stuff going on elsewhere, like London getting smoked.

   
Card Caster, Manifestation: Can retrieve objects out of photo-realistic, still images. Most often out of 'Tarot Cards' that Laima keeps on her person.

Card Caster, Collection: Can insert actual objects into a static medium, where it can be stored until retrieved. Most often objects are placed into a 'Tarot Card' Laima keeps on her person.

Card Caster, Shuffle: All cards or pages of paper within arm's reach can be summoned to fly about Laima, and called upon to Manifest what's on them on demand. A flashy skill with little practical application aside from making it easier to riffle through a stack of cards. Great for parties.

   
[Human] Battery Powered: The larger or heavier the object is, the more energy it takes to Manifest or Collect it; even a single, large item (e.g. an empty plane) could leave Laima barely able to move afterward or drop her unconscious afterward.

Deal the Hand: In order to use the cards they must be within her grasp, or within arm's reach and be unobstructed in order to Shuffle and cast them from midair.

What's In Reach: Laima can only Collect objects she can physically touch. Furthermore, Laima must reasonably believe she is in the possession that object -- for example, cannot she 'Collect' the planet Earth -- or could be in possession of said object if manifested -- for example, she once tried manifesting a starship, but nothing happened since she had no frame of reference for its existence (which has left Laima wondering how she managed a time machine in the alternate sequence of events).

Handle With Care: Whatever medium is used to store objects are just that, they possess no inherent protection or magic power; playing cards are just card stock, and paper is just paper. Someone could tear the medium in half and make retrieving the object impossible.

No Time Machines: An Alternative Laima 'came back' and told herself under no conditions to ever try or use a time machine using her power. Apparently it resulted in at least one unspeakable calamity, and since it was already screwed up, Laima had presumably taken the opportunity to go back and stop herself from every doing it a first time.

   
Deck of Cards: Laima often carries a deck of 'collected' and blank cards on her person; some decks are Tarot-sized, while others are the size of Playing Cards. Some cards contain mundane things such as lockpicks, while others carry sensitive cargo like gold bullion.

Belts & Deck Holsters: Crossed belts hold a pouch or two, but most importantly support the holster(s) where her Cards are kept when not in use out and about.

Many Masks: When conducting not-entirely-legal activities, Laima often wears a black and white full-face mask with only eye sockets of varying designs so cameras and witnesses don't complicate her life needlessly. Every now and then, she might sport a half-face masquerade mask instead if the situation calls for it.

Hood, Cloak, and Outfit: A nearly black and dark purple outfit helps blend in to the night, while still being fashionable when caught under the spotlights. The mask and card-casting are enough of a signature by themselves; the outfit is really for her vanity.

Lockpicks & other Thievery Tools: Plenty of gear goes into a successful heist. It can change based on the circumstances, and how rare some tools can be to acquire on short notice.

Electric Motorcycle: For transit. And reckless endangerment-- speed.

   
N/A

   
Acrobatic: A fluid grace enables Laima to slip into tight places without hesitation. A skill refined during many sticky-fingered operations.

Spatial Orientation: Up is up, down is down, and North is North and sometimes when the world is spinning knowing the difference without needing to consciously think about it could save your life. Fortunately, Laima has an instinct for orientation and direction.

Escape Artist: Handcuffs? Not if you expect to actually retain custody of her.

Criminal Architect: Laima can figure out how to get into a secure facility -- including what resources, personnel, and scheduling are needed.

   
Laima stopped along a bookshelf and turned her head slightly toward the shelves. Distant callbacks between those she'd accompanied to these polished, wooden halls echoed down the corridor. She paid them little mind as she noticed a disturbance in the dust. Quarter of an inch out from the spines of two books, and scarcely an eighth on a third. Shelf was high enough up it would be easier to slide the volumes back altogether if the intent was to retrieve one or more. High enough if you reached over them the butt of your palm might nudge books forward. A quick glance confirmed the corridor was clear before her gloved hand reached over the tops of the books and found the lever. A sharp pull popped the case out from the wall slightly. Enough to slip inside and close it behind her.

One of her companions drew back into the hallway with a call after their masked partner, but she gave no reply.

It was a relatively small study. Enough to sit before a desk built against another wall with shelves lined with books on both sides. Between the shelves was a tall, ornate shrine with various occult baubles hanging from it. Set before it was a tome reverently placed upon a pastille. The symbol on its cover was one Laima was acquainted with, if briefly.

To think she would find such a sick soul plundering what was meant to be just another excessively wealthy mark.

Gloved fingertips glanced over the cover with a grimace concealed behind her mask. Could there be anything good to come from reading it? Better to pretend the whole 'thing' never happened. If only life were so easy. Well, it couldn't get worse from stealing the book, could it? With the decision reached, she plucked the tome up and watched as it painted itself into a card nestled between her fingers.

Somehow, it felt a little less evil holding it as a card. Maybe it was her imagination.

With the leverage pulled, Laima eased herself back into the hallway and stepped closer to the balcony overlooking the foyer below.

"Hold it!"

The masked figure slowly leaned back into view of a small group that stood on the lower floor with their attention in her direction. Guests! Or rather Hosts. Bad timing all around.

Slowly, Laima stepped further into the open with both hands casually held up. "Gentlemen. Shall I," a steady stream of cards began to rise from the unlatched holster at her hip, "tell you your fortune?" They barely had time to grasp that the cards were floating in mid air around the masked figure before one of the larger cards was snatched from the air. She casually turned it to face them with a soft click of her tongue. "The Tower." Sudden upheaval. Broken pride. You know, disaster.

Meanwhile, Laima's left hand plucked a smaller card and flicked it down toward the group below as their fate was foretold. As they gave a cry to shoot her -- because she was the trespasser and her 'games' didn't amuse them -- the card vanished. In its placed appeared a cluster of flash-bangs. Pins pre-pulled, of course.

The loud bang had the rest of the sticky-fingered crew alert and nervous when Laima swept into view. "Grab your loot. Time to go." She hadn't even slowed at the sight of them pointing their weapons at her as Laima made the announcement. No time to dawdle talking about what happened or who the people were downstairs. Better they were gone before reinforcements start pouring into the place. They'd already have a time avoiding being seen escaping the grounds -- hopefully the rest of the thugs would be too focused on commotion downstairs to bother spreading out outside.