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Player Information
Player name:
Contact: Plurk - wingedbeastie
Are you over 18: Y
Characters in The Box Already: No

Character Information
Character Name: Citra Talugmai
Canon: Far Cry 3
Canon Point: post "Join Citra" ending
History: Wiki Link
Personality: Citra can be likened to a great reptile - a crocodile or anaconda, barely visible at the surface of the water and watching, simply watching.

"Do they teach you to speak without permission in America?"

Citra takes the leadership of her people very seriously, as the self-made and realized Warrior-Goddess of the Rakyat and by extention, Rook Island. Most outsiders have only ever known by her people speak of her in whispers and quiet invocations -at least in the beginning, anyway - and she is quite happy to cultivate mystery while she does her great work. However, those who draw her interest with acts of great power and great bravery are invited to her sanctum. There more tests are to be had, under the watchful eye of her guards. In the place of her making, she prefers to assess people individually. Her conversation with Jason Brody implies that the tests are given on impulse and that no ground is to be given to those who wish to have her favor. She makes his flippant remark become a threat to remove the very tatau that caught her interest, a plea for assistance to save his friends denied. In the face of her Rakyat, he is a lamb, an outsider - no better than prey. Citra draws the line, gives the command and only those who follow her dutifully and without reservation are rewarded.

"Tell me what you desire..."

After Jason proves himself by returning the ceremonial knife of her people, she questions him making sure that the answers line up with her own vision. This is due, in part to her brother, Vaas, abandoning her. She considered him perfect and he was the only man she knew worthy of becoming the leader of the Rakyat. His first kill was done for her, however when push came to shove he left. He joined Hoyt and little by little her people began to lose their home. Now she takes no chances. Her watch is constant, always looking for weakness in her believers. Even Jason is not exempt from these security measures - she sees his lack of conviction after Hoyt's defeat and takes matters into her own hands by drugging him cryptically explaining that she is "helping him." Any possible doubts are erased little by little, by her insistence, by the herbs that she uses to give visions to her Rakyat, by fleeting caresses and soul piercing gazes in the night.

"Every man who tries to fight you dies and deserves to have his life taken."

Citra also seems to be the opposite of her sibling: crying out for the blood of her enemies and for glory of the people she leads, but quiet in the expression of her own personal feelings. She does share the same morbid draw to violence and the same unyielding intensity when it comes to things she wants. An early conversation with Jason has her explaining the legend of how Rook Island came to be, voice wavering at the glory of the Rakyat's power. After Vaas' death, she seems near the edge of grief and looks to Jason wide-eyed. She asks him "How will you kill Hoyt?" expectantly. The answer is predictably bloody and she smiles at her warrior in agreement with his plans. This moment is bracketed by two very telling sentences from Citra: her quiet admission of grief at her brother's death and her complete inability to simply admit she wants Jason to stay. Spoken with withdrawn body language and barely audible to who she is speaking to.

"Sssssh. Rage against the darkness. You are a warrior. Die a warrior."

In the end, Citra is far more willing to play the long game - promising future power, future strength and eternal glory in exchange for current progress. No price is too high for the glory and welfare of her people: not her mind, not her body, not even her perfect warrior. In the end, after a moment of hot-blooded ritual, she kills the warrior she worked to cultivate. Soothing him with the knowledge that she will bear the new leader of their people, she leaves him to his death throes and slinks off back into her territory to watch and to wait.

Items on your character at canon point:
1. This leather tanktop, skirt and assorted jewelry.
2. Ancient Ritual Knife of the Rakyat
3. Ceremonial warpaint and tattoo ink

Abilities: Citra is a talented fighter and is adept in hand to hand combat and knowledgeable about the hallucinogenic properties of various plants.

Strengths and Weaknesses: Citra is unnervingly charismatic, able to read people easily and very good at drawing people to her. She is a talented manipulator and good at playing the cards close to her chest. For all of her charisma, however, she has difficultly making true connections and often responds with childish quickness to things that displease her.

Samples
Network/Action Spam Sample: Thread over on Dear Mun
Prose Log Sample:
Eyes narrowed to slits, Citra watched as the young man before her, Harta drank the contents of the bottle down. Ordinarily she would have left him alone, but his brother - her actual chosen- had been killed in a raid two weeks ago and frankly anyone from that stock was too good to pass over. So after the first few days of grief passed, she asked him to come to her Temple at night.

It didn't take long to feed his ambition, to convince him that he could do what his brother failed to. His greedy hands in the darkness were a trifle to pay to watch his confidence go skyward. And now his eyes rolled the same way as he shuddered from the effects of the <i>herba</i>. The guards, bless them, rushed to his side - stopping only at the slash of her hand.

His hands began to clench and unclench rapidly, the thought of those same hands working drifting idly as she watched him seize. Three nights prior she'd asked for the head of a tiger and last night he brought it to her, bloodied but grinning with such potent pride. He even dared to demand to lie with her, as he thought he'd become Rakyat already. The blade grazing across his stomach convinced him to calm himself quickly, demanding in the morning that his trials be given faster.

The boy - not a man, a man would have lived - finally dropped to the ground, still shaking and whimpering. She approached and rolled him over , squatting to see glassy eyes with pupils shrunk to pinpricks.

"You have faught, Harta. Join your brother. You are a warrior."

Standing once more, she swept her braids over her shoulder and pursed her lips.

"Take care of him." came the command. Turning on her heel, she flagged her men in a 'shoo' looking gesture and walked to the doorway of her temple. She could hear them arguing before a single shot rang out, silencing any concerns.

Kneeling at the mural of the first Rakyat she sighed.

Tomorrow there would be another. Tomorrow would bring her the warrior she needed.

Citra Talugmai

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