Hu
07-13-13, 11:22 AM
White Cloud (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ie951V1yd4A)
Hu Tian
3021
“Three worlds rely on my ability discover the truth.”
Alias: White Cloud
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Height: 5’9”
Weight: 144lbs
Eye Colour: Blue
Hair Colour: Black
Religion: Atheist
Alignment: Lawful Good
Occupation: Private Investigator
Intelligence: Excellent
Literacy: Above Average
History: My father once said to me, shortly before he died, that life was an eternal journey. I think that he meant for it, in some great Tao manner, to have inspired me. He was hoping to instil in me a new level of belief in something, nothing, and anything. I had always been my mother’s successor, in ideology, and by some small grace, looks. We had been what you might call ‘close neighbours’, more so than relatives, my father and I. After nearly a decade of living in the city, away from Chengdu, the idiom had meant little to me – it certainly did not console me in my grief.
It is funny, though, that the moment his journey ended, mine truly began. I had, until that sunny day in March 1930, nothing more than a typist at the Embassy in Shanghai had. With the dichotomy between imperialism and communism forming in the political melting pot of the city, I felt trapped. I saw very few people, save for colleagues, and when I did venture out into the city, there was a constant and confusion mix of welcome and loathing.
I began to experience strange dreams roughly a month after my father’s passing. They were nothing more than obfuscating nightmares at first, no meaning to be found in their erratic representations of what I thought was the grieving process swiftly undoing my resolve. As the political fallout of the Nauru riots reached Shanghai, the dreams only worsened. I felt, without a doubt, as if every event in the world was echoing in my mind. I felt as if I were responsible. I felt as if could have done something, everything, and all things to stop them.
When I slept that night, on April 13th, 1930, I had the most realistic nightmare in months. I was in another world, where the Japanese kami and the Chinese devils were real. I could reach and touch the sky, as it swaddled me in vapours, and look down across a strange, yet wondrously familiar land. All the myths of my childhood, both east and west, were as real in that realm as you or I. I was somehow looking at the worlds my books as a child described. I saw the mythology of my home given form.
I awoke with a start, lathered in sweat, and eyes glistening with what I can only describe in abstract terms – ‘magic’. Cloud vapour with thick in the room, so thick I mistook myself for being in my old chamber, in my mother’s villa in Chengdu. In the spring, the clouds seemed to descend over the grounds, carrying with them the spirits of the sky. Then, as if my mind were playing tricks on me, it vanished.
Ever since, when I sleep, I find myself in that place. It is an unavoidable occurrence, and one I have stopped fighting to try and avoid. Strong coffee and engrossing classic fiction can only go so far, and even when I do manage to stay awake during arduous times, the cloud always finds me, takes me away, and sends me into the unknown. Slowly but surely, I became horrifyingly aware that I was not dreaming.
This world in my head was real.
By the end of the summer, I had resigned myself to attending the physician, Dr Mortimer’s surgery, and having myself tested. My mother would have fainted at the thought of her blossom being anything but the perfect, dutiful, and politically minded protégée she believed me to be. For all my longing for answers, something quite strange happened. Whilst in the waiting room, surrounded by the ill, destitute, and culturally diverse denizens of the Shanghai French Concession, I disappeared once more.
I awoke in a Shanghai utterly alien to me. I stumbled out into the street of another age. Utterly bewildered, I found myself a newspaper. Rattling a still valid coin into the metre, I unfolded the broadsheet, an unrecognisable publisher, and read the headlines.
It was not 1930 anymore.
It was Wednesday, 14th January 2030.
My disbelief could have cracked time and space itself, and those ensuing months, or at least, what I thought were months, were occupied with flitting back and forth between two strange, now unfamiliar times, and the world in my dreams where the people called me ‘White Cloud’.
Maybe I can find my answers in another life, before the duality of my existence becomes my undoing.
Skills:
Investigator: Hu Tian is an exemplary problem solver, possessing the keen, analytic, and deductive thinking required of a private investigator.
Researcher: Hu Tian has developed and honed her research ability, and is able to find, analyse, and summarise information from a variety of resources.
Historian: Hu Tian’s unique perspective allows her to draw on historical information to inform her about situations. She is an above average anthropologist and diplomat.
Abilities:
Time-Travel: Hu Tian possesses the ability to travel through time. This ability is seldom any use to make a quick escape, and its implications for offensive measures are limited, if any.
Time Lock: Hu Tian can travel between two time locks. She can move to any point during 1930 or 2030. Her ability is subject to the Butterfly Effect.
Spatial Shift: When Hu Tian falls asleep, she travels to Althanas. Hu Tian will wake up if she enters sleep, falls unconscious, or is the target of electrical or time magic.
Immortal: Hu Tian does not age physically. She will not die from natural causes, and if she dies on Althanas, she will travel back to the exact moment she left Earth.
Intuition: Hu Tian’s vision is twice as focussed, attentive, and perceptive as a normal human being is.
Inventory: Hu Tian is in possession of a variety of mundane items. She has a room in a shikumen in Shanghai, and a small apartment in neo-Shanghai. This resource cannot acquire magical items.
Hu Tian
3021
“Three worlds rely on my ability discover the truth.”
Alias: White Cloud
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Height: 5’9”
Weight: 144lbs
Eye Colour: Blue
Hair Colour: Black
Religion: Atheist
Alignment: Lawful Good
Occupation: Private Investigator
Intelligence: Excellent
Literacy: Above Average
History: My father once said to me, shortly before he died, that life was an eternal journey. I think that he meant for it, in some great Tao manner, to have inspired me. He was hoping to instil in me a new level of belief in something, nothing, and anything. I had always been my mother’s successor, in ideology, and by some small grace, looks. We had been what you might call ‘close neighbours’, more so than relatives, my father and I. After nearly a decade of living in the city, away from Chengdu, the idiom had meant little to me – it certainly did not console me in my grief.
It is funny, though, that the moment his journey ended, mine truly began. I had, until that sunny day in March 1930, nothing more than a typist at the Embassy in Shanghai had. With the dichotomy between imperialism and communism forming in the political melting pot of the city, I felt trapped. I saw very few people, save for colleagues, and when I did venture out into the city, there was a constant and confusion mix of welcome and loathing.
I began to experience strange dreams roughly a month after my father’s passing. They were nothing more than obfuscating nightmares at first, no meaning to be found in their erratic representations of what I thought was the grieving process swiftly undoing my resolve. As the political fallout of the Nauru riots reached Shanghai, the dreams only worsened. I felt, without a doubt, as if every event in the world was echoing in my mind. I felt as if I were responsible. I felt as if could have done something, everything, and all things to stop them.
When I slept that night, on April 13th, 1930, I had the most realistic nightmare in months. I was in another world, where the Japanese kami and the Chinese devils were real. I could reach and touch the sky, as it swaddled me in vapours, and look down across a strange, yet wondrously familiar land. All the myths of my childhood, both east and west, were as real in that realm as you or I. I was somehow looking at the worlds my books as a child described. I saw the mythology of my home given form.
I awoke with a start, lathered in sweat, and eyes glistening with what I can only describe in abstract terms – ‘magic’. Cloud vapour with thick in the room, so thick I mistook myself for being in my old chamber, in my mother’s villa in Chengdu. In the spring, the clouds seemed to descend over the grounds, carrying with them the spirits of the sky. Then, as if my mind were playing tricks on me, it vanished.
Ever since, when I sleep, I find myself in that place. It is an unavoidable occurrence, and one I have stopped fighting to try and avoid. Strong coffee and engrossing classic fiction can only go so far, and even when I do manage to stay awake during arduous times, the cloud always finds me, takes me away, and sends me into the unknown. Slowly but surely, I became horrifyingly aware that I was not dreaming.
This world in my head was real.
By the end of the summer, I had resigned myself to attending the physician, Dr Mortimer’s surgery, and having myself tested. My mother would have fainted at the thought of her blossom being anything but the perfect, dutiful, and politically minded protégée she believed me to be. For all my longing for answers, something quite strange happened. Whilst in the waiting room, surrounded by the ill, destitute, and culturally diverse denizens of the Shanghai French Concession, I disappeared once more.
I awoke in a Shanghai utterly alien to me. I stumbled out into the street of another age. Utterly bewildered, I found myself a newspaper. Rattling a still valid coin into the metre, I unfolded the broadsheet, an unrecognisable publisher, and read the headlines.
It was not 1930 anymore.
It was Wednesday, 14th January 2030.
My disbelief could have cracked time and space itself, and those ensuing months, or at least, what I thought were months, were occupied with flitting back and forth between two strange, now unfamiliar times, and the world in my dreams where the people called me ‘White Cloud’.
Maybe I can find my answers in another life, before the duality of my existence becomes my undoing.
Skills:
Investigator: Hu Tian is an exemplary problem solver, possessing the keen, analytic, and deductive thinking required of a private investigator.
Researcher: Hu Tian has developed and honed her research ability, and is able to find, analyse, and summarise information from a variety of resources.
Historian: Hu Tian’s unique perspective allows her to draw on historical information to inform her about situations. She is an above average anthropologist and diplomat.
Abilities:
Time-Travel: Hu Tian possesses the ability to travel through time. This ability is seldom any use to make a quick escape, and its implications for offensive measures are limited, if any.
Time Lock: Hu Tian can travel between two time locks. She can move to any point during 1930 or 2030. Her ability is subject to the Butterfly Effect.
Spatial Shift: When Hu Tian falls asleep, she travels to Althanas. Hu Tian will wake up if she enters sleep, falls unconscious, or is the target of electrical or time magic.
Immortal: Hu Tian does not age physically. She will not die from natural causes, and if she dies on Althanas, she will travel back to the exact moment she left Earth.
Intuition: Hu Tian’s vision is twice as focussed, attentive, and perceptive as a normal human being is.
Inventory: Hu Tian is in possession of a variety of mundane items. She has a room in a shikumen in Shanghai, and a small apartment in neo-Shanghai. This resource cannot acquire magical items.