Approved Kitsune (Mari Ito)

Name: Mariko "Mari" Ito
Age: 25
Gender: Female, she/they
Appearance: Mari stands a bit shorter than most, with long dark hair that she often lets hang loose. She does her best to keep it up when she's working, but the longer a project goes on the less secured it is. She dresses rather plainly, in sharp contrast to Spork, in either jeans or slacks, and a simple solid-color shirt. She doesn't put much thought into her appearance, and if she's working on an intense enough project it's not uncommon for her to wear the same clothes for days on end.
Features: Mari possesses a greatly heightened intelligence, viewing the world through the lens of problems or puzzles that need to be solved. Despite this, she doesn't consider herself a genius, finding the phrase and its association to be insulting. Perhaps related, perhaps not, some call her emotionally stunted, unable to process or understand both her emotions or those of others very well.

Alias: Kitsune
Power Level: Low
Alignment: Dark Gray (more villain than hero, kills people for a living)
Alliances: Founder and leader of Nine Tails Inc., working alongside Shiba
Powers: Kitsune can die. While that's not particularly worth of note, what is impressive is that she can come back to life. Whenever Kitsune dies, she draws from a pool of nine lives that she has, expending it to return to life within 60 seconds. Any damage she's sustained prior to her death and subsequent resurrection will heal, although she will still feel the phantom pains left behind. Kitsune regains one life per lunar cycle, approximately 30 days, and always knows how many lives she has left

Equipment:

• A modular "laser" pistol that can be modified to serve the purpose of other guns.
• Two knives, the blades of which can be heated or given an electric current.
• A handful of proximity alarms with 3D cameras that feed into her helmet.
• Suit made from a slash-resistant, puncture-proof durable fabric.
• Mask with built-in voice modifier, HUD, targeting system, and short-range communicator connected to Shiba's.

 

[HighVoltage]

Mari grew up alone. It wasn't for a lack of trying on the part of her parents. Being good friends with the only other family in the neighborhood with a kid Mari's age meant that she was frequently dragged along to the Fuchs household. Not that she minded, being dragged along is practically the norm when you're an infant. She would have been content to sit in her little area, playing with blocks or simply being by herself.

However, there was another child they insisted on putting her with, a pudgy conqueror who believed that the whole world belonged to them, and staked their claim with a gummy fervor. Normally Mari wouldn't have paid much attention to such a tyrant, but when they began to claim her, she rebelled in the only way that toddlers can, with kicking feet and screams. "Aw, they're playing!" the assembled parents exclaimed, and Mari knew that no aid would come from them.

Eventually the gums gave way to teeth, but the tyranny remained. She was still forced to visit the Fuchs regularly, the parents waiting with Spork as if they couldn't wait to foist them on her the second she arrived. Spork, naturally, got to control what they would do. They wanted to run and climb and get dirty, all the things that Mari supposed other kids wanted to do. She would follow them outside with a book, doing her best to ignore them.

Then school came, and everything changed. No longer was Mari forced to interact with Spork. No, instead she could do whatever she wanted. While they resumed their reign of terror, making short work of establishing themself as ruler of the playground, Mari was inside. She much preferred to spend her recess within the embrace of a bean bag chair, poring over the words of someone else's adventure. On some level she was dimly aware that there was some sort of social aspect she was missing, informed by her mother's daily question of the goings-on of school and status of any friendships she'd made. Mari defaulted to vague answers about hanging out with Spork, simply comments that she knew her mom was looking for.

But there was something that bothered Mari. While Spork was the undisputed ruler of the playground, the top of the social hierarchy, they were floundering academically. She could plainly see that. Part of her considered letting them flop. After all, she couldn’t be dragged to any more forced playdates, forced into running around in the muck if Spork was stuck being tutored. Then again, if they fell too far and got held back, Mari would truly be alone. She had to do something.

But what?