Varga Ruel's page

Varga butts into the conversation oblivious to any apparent "roles" of leadership.

"So we needs somebody to create a diversion for as everyone to go sneaking, right? Well I am a diversion kind of guy. You just give me the signal, chief, and I will be making sure they are not paying attention to none of yous." Varga winks at Bryn.

Turning to look at Finwa, Varga says, "You'd best grow some vines around me or something, cuz once I start concentrating, I most like won't notice I'm in a tree and will fall on my head. But nothing so strong I can't be getting out again."

Without further ado, the blue-skinned psion scampers up a nearby tree using his own telekinetic abilities to help propel him up without putting so much pressure on the branches that they creak or make any noise not heard in forests with a bit of breeze going through their boughs.

He sets himself up on a sturdy branch where he has a semi-decent view of the camps, dawgoyles, and prisoners. Varga then shows a whole lot of teeth in a cheesy grin and gives a thumbs up.

Varga watched the whole scene in slight disbelief.

Funny little hair stealing animals was well pretty funny and very much something he would credit to the Mittens Post-Deathmatch Safari, but rescuing slaves? What a bizarre turn of events...maybe it was the camera crew that Varga had yet to see? He knew there was a reason behind all of this that had to do with ratings. Yes, that was it!

Varga understood now. The sweet young girl mauled by animals, the construct with the heart of gold, tales of slaves to draw them to a place where "grateful" people would follow them around using Belzac's "instruments". Obviously a well planned ploy for the sake of ratings. Varga laughed. "I always knew you would do anything for ratings, Mittens. This is a good one. It even kindsa got a theme, too!"

Varga points at the little girl and says, "Dorothy!"

Varga moves his finger to Romcyas, "Tin Woodsman!" Then Finwa gets "Toto!"

Varga continues. "Munchkin. Let's say Lollipop Guild, what the hey," Leoian receives. "Bryn...you're either the Wizard or the Scarecrow...probably Scarecrow."

"Charlene...you're Belinda, maybe? Unless you wants to be one of the Wickedy Wishes," Varga intentionally mispronounces.

Varga eyes Belzac and then shrugs, "Guess yous 'n' me are just card soldiers or something...all's good. After all Mittens obviously playing the part of the Lion. And we're all off to get the Wizard's balloon and get to Kansiff!" He tilts his head for a second and thinks. "That doesn't sound right, but whatever. Someplace on that one planet Terra or wherever."

Varga sweeps his hand sharply and the force blade forms in the blink of an eye. "Knave of Spades reporting for duty! Let's go get the camera crew!"

Varga makes a gust of force toward the oncoming creatures making them tumble back a few feet.

"Na-ah!" Varga trying to keep an eye out for any more approaching hair'bbits. "I'll be keeping these lovely locks, thank you!"

Varga pushes again at some of them as they approach the other party members.

Varga lets out a yelp as his hair his yanked out.

"Yooooowch!"

Varga begins to wave one hand vigorously at the little beasties. "Hey, hey, hey!"

Varga scurries and slides down the tree and rushes back to the camp area.

"Maybe Mittens is right. Maybe the little hair snatchers are for eating!"

Varga eats with a gusto, loudly smacking his lips and slurping up water to wash it down. He belches violently when he finally comes up for air.

"Whew! That was soooooo much better than noodles in a cup...just wanna say."

When Finwa makes her appearance, Varga looks at her with a grin. "You and me got the same ideas. Moar foods!"

When Mittens gets excited about the large goldfish, Varga visibly drools. "Hot damn, I bet that sucker was delicious." The psion's stomach grumbles loudly.

As the new fuzzy little animal begins scoping out the camp, Varga seems even more excitable than before. He runs up to a tree near to the one the animal clings. He jumps and simultaneously thrusts both hands down pushing. This launches him quite high, and Varga grabs the nearby tree and watches the small animals across from him with extreme interest.

"Hey little fellow," Varga says in an uncharacteristically soft tone. "What are ya doing there? Building a nest, eh? How swell is that?"

"Uh...do you have like a guide book? I kinda...slept through the botany portion of biology..." Varga says sheepishly.

Then his face brightens. "Wait! I do remember my physics though! I could use force to put pressure down on the pot and cook the food that way. 'Pee time vee over tee' and all that. Then no need to worry about fire or smoke or anything." Varga smiles excitedly.

"I can sorta-see in the dark. More about using a light projection of force to catch the outlines of stuff," Varga says. He puts a hand on his chin and looks thoughtful. "I guess it's like sonar. Just without, you know, sound."

Varga eats his beef bun enthusiastically. "Hey! This is way better that the noodles that won this contest!"

"Hells, yes! Laser Eyes are bam-frackin'-tastic! Goggles or not, still freaking cool." Varga says in admiration at the helmetkitty's mania-induced actions.

Varga had spent the last several hours essentially geeking out about being on an actual safari and regaling everyone with his view of the Deathmatch, including horrifically descriptive accounts of their own grisly deaths. He had calmed down once they had gotten further out as he looked around wide-eyed and occasionally swatted his forceblade at stray jungle tree and bush branches that poked at the party.

"Wow. I mean wow. This is like the bestest contest prize ever!"

Varga watches Leoian tackle Finwa and starts laughing.

"Oh wow! You guys are even sillier in person. Even when you don't have imminent death hanging over your head. This is going to be so much fun!"

"You have your machete? Or some weapon? How are you going to hunt eight-armed flying gorillas without one?"

"You there. Have you ever done that thing with the dust - the air and the dust, I suppose - before? I mean, did you do that at home?"

Varga puffs up with pride and says, "I wasn't going to the Riven Academy of Psions for nothing. That's on the planet Eversol, in case you haven't heard of it."

Varga holds out his hand and narrows his eyes in concentration. A shimmer of the air is all that betrays the projection of solid force that appears in the faintest outline of a wicked blade. Varga swings his hand and a chunk of wood from a nearby fence post is sheared off cleanly. The shimmer fades and Varga lets out a breath of relief.

Looking back to Charlene, Varga says, "Good enough? Though that's kind of advanced stuff. I can't do it for too long. This is more my specialty."

Varga emits a "Ha!" and thrusts a hand forward. The piece of sheared wood goes flying as if someone had just whacked it with a golf club. It embeds itself in another post thanks to the sharp edge given by the force blade Varga had used earlier.

Boo...I think those aren't very good if I read the book right.

Varga blinks at Mittens' words. "Uhh..." Raising an eyebrow, he looks at each of the "dead" contestants in turn.

Then the young man laughs and squints one eye while pointing at the helmeted cat. "Riiiiiight, Mittens V. They're aaaaallll dead."

Varga raises one hand to the side of his face so that the palm is facing a way from him and in a much more conspiratorial voice, "You got it, kitty, I won't ruin your gig. This contest winner tows the line for his favorite program."

Then he winks and acts like his firing finger pistols several times at the group while making pew pew pew sounds.

"Anyway, what's the plan for this crazy ride you have set up for me?"

STR: 3d6 ⇒ (6, 4, 1) = 11
CON: 3d6 ⇒ (3, 3, 3) = 9
SIZ: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (4, 3) + 6 = 13
INT: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (1, 3) + 6 = 10
POW: 3d6 ⇒ (3, 1, 6) = 10
DEX: 3d6 ⇒ (2, 6, 1) = 9
APP: 3d6 ⇒ (6, 4, 6) = 16

Hearing someone calling "Deathmatch!" behind him, the spiky-haired youth turns.

"Ah-ha! Mittens!" He begins to run over with a big grin and an enthusiastic expression.

...and comes to halt several feet away with a huh? look on his face.

"Huh?" Varga says pointing at Charlene. "Uh...whoa. So it was all, like, special effects and stuff? Nobody actually got snuffed?"

A strangely disappointed look crosses Varga's pale face. But then suddenly a smile returns and he says, "Eh, screw it. Who cares? Let's do this Deathmatch Safari!"

Seeing Bryn, Varga suddenly howls like a wolf and plays an air guitar.

"OOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!!!!"

When he finishes a gust of air rushes down at the ground kicking up loose dust in a perfect circle around the young man.

"Hell, yeah! You were one of my favs. This is going to so badass!! They didn't tell me I was going to get to hang with the cast."

Are there different characteristics for a mutant human? Or should I just roll human?

...looks around with excitement. The safari trip! Varga couldn't remember how he got here, but from the looks of this place, it had to be the safari outpost starting point. Varga's head was pounding and ears ringing...he must have had so much fun at the Deathmatch he blacked out. That happened sometimes. The curse of being born with psionic powers he had always assumed.

"Oi!" Varga called to the first person he saw. "Where is the guide to the safari? I am the winner of Mittens' contest."

The man looked at him like he daft. Varga didn't like that very much. "C'mon, you know? Mittens Meowselsworth? The Deathmatch Extravaganza!" The last bit was said in Varga's best announcer voice. He gave the man a crooked smile and posed hoping he would recognize Varga from the couple of promo spots they had had Varga photograph for the winner announcement.

"Hey now, I need to get the safari, bub. Don't be jerking me around."

Bam! Just tell me when to jump in!!