Editing Tokyo Bullet Angels Tomari

Attributes:
Bod 5 (max 7)
Move - 5
Strength - 5
Constitution - 5
Toughness - 5

Chi 0
Fortune - 1
Kung Fu - 4
Magic - 0

Mnd 6
Charisma - 6
Intelligence - 6
Perception - 6
Willpower - 6

Ref 8
Agility - 8
Dexterity - 8
Speed - 8


Guns +9 (=14) and Martial Arts +5 (=10)
Info/Black Ops Crime +2 (7)
Info/Video Games +3 (8)
Intrusion +5 (13) [Max 13]
Deceit +3 (9) [Max 11]
Add 4 skill bonuses Add them to existing skills or any skill (which could include existing)
Driving 1 + 8 (=9)
Intimidation 1 + 6 (=7)
Detective 2 + 6 (=8)

Schticks:
Eagle Eye
Carnival of Carnage x2
Lightning Reload
10000 Bullets

3 Weapons
GIAT FR-F2, chosen because at 5.4kg it is a pretty light Sniper Rifle
Beretta 93R Machine pistol, 1.3kg
Beretta Model 950 .3kg, 8 round magazine (tiny gun)

The flag snapped hard, cloth whip cracking, causing one of the men to look up. Their leader ordered him to watch his arcs. They spoke mandarin, quickly, quietly, the words nearly a hum. They moved out, neatly arrayed, across the wind swept ridge just below the mansion.

One of them went down, a whispering 'crack' and then the black clad figure fell back wards, one lens of night vision goggles shattered.

The remaining men paused, as if uncertain, but only for a moment. Then they began to move, seeking cover, even as their leader fell, shot through the throat.

Where was the attacker, they looked around from the cover they had sought out. Had to be close. It was night time, there was a strong wind. The attacker had to be close. One of them called out to the others, ordering them to move forward, to cover each other, to look for the shooter.

Three more fell before they realized the futility of that plan.

Then they began to panic. One tried to run and went down, shot in the back of his head. Another began to fire wildly before a shot took him in the chest, the high powered round ripping through the kevlar vest.

The last one tossed down his weapon, raised his hands. He stood there, waiting to die, but that shot never came.

When reinforcements arrived several minutes later they found him still standing their, to scared to move.



“You did good work,” the Russian said. “Excellent diversionary tactics.” His Japanese was slightly accented. He put an envelope on the table in front of him.

“Thank you,” Tomari Miho said, taking the envelope.

She had been the sniper who had killed the men, unconcerned that men had died for no other reason than a diversion.

The Russian laughed. “Ice Cold Tomari, worth every penny.” He slapped the table. Smiling slyly he asked, “Don't you want to know what last night was about?”

She shook her head and put the envelope into her jacket. “No. Doesn't concern me.” She stood up. “Good bye. Call me if you need any more work.”

And with that she walked out.


To Tomari it was all business. Nothing personal. No emotions needed. She worked for whoever paid. She played no favorites. Not everyone was the same, but Tomari thought that she was ready for that.

Usually she was.

Not that time.

But she could not have expected magic.



Tomari Miho was a thirty six year old merc, selling her not inconsiderable skills as a sniper to anyone who would pay for them. The consummate professional, she always believed that she was too valuable for anyone to consider revenge against her, she was after all, just the hired help.

And that was how things were until she provided cover for a Russian who stole something very valuable from a very old Chinese man, who also happened to be a sorcerer who was not about to let the theft go unpunished. Unfortunately the people truly responsible were protected against his magic, which left him with only one viable target.

Tomari.

He did not know who the sniper was who had killed his people, and she had been too far from her victims for it to leave a significant trace, but the man she had spared, there was a link he might use. Unfortunately such a link would not allow him to harm her, only help her. And in that he found a blessing that he might use.

He gave her the gift of youth, of youth in such great abundance that in only a few days the thirty six year old would lose three decades.

In so doing the old sorcerer hoped he might find her, for a child with the sniper's qualities should be easily found. Or so he hoped.


Tomari is an angry woman, well, little girl, but she is really angry. Angry in the way only a six year old with the training of a killer and the emotion control of a child can be. Which should make people more than a little afraid.

She has figured out what has happened, coming to accept magic, and she wants the curse on her undone. She had no intention of having to grow up again the long way (assuming she even can, she is worried she may not be aging at all, and even more worried the regression could start up again).

What she needs is money, and lots of it. Money to see if she can buy a cure. Or so she assumes.