[ After living in the cold, unfamiliar space of another dimension for forty-some days, waking up in a strange hotel room should be welcome. Hell, after twenty-some years of life under a ruthless dictator, anything should be welcome.
Kimberly Ann Hart learned to stop seeing the glass half-full a long time, ago, though. She almost crushes the phone...except that'd need Ranger powers, and those are limited until they can figure out--wait, no, those are gone. ]
...Alright. So, kidnapped and robbed. Sounds about normal for this place. [ Fine. Just fine. Door isn't locked, she isn't restrained--so the first order of business is to carefully get a handle on what sort of planet (or overheated ship) she's on.
Her whole ensemble's a little much for this kind of heat, so as she's slipping out of the motel room, she's tugging on her collar a little, all the while trying to look for anyone else who might've gotten grabbed from the Prometheus, or... Or anyone who appears here against their will, to begin with.
Jaded as she is, she can't turn away from someone in need...and if you look like you're having a hard time, she'll abandon the pretense of sneaking about and approach, nonetheless. ]
Hey. You. [ Hands raised as a gesture of peace. ] Are you a refugee of this place?
Night Life
[ It's been a long time since Kimberly did anything remotely close to "fun" -- unless you count the brief afternoon after she'd broken from Drakkon's spell, in past Angel Grove, but it ended so abruptly that doing so feels silly. Still, reconnaissance? That she's well acquainted with, and when the sun goes down, the scout comes out. Whether she was fighting against or for Drakkon's forces, she always excelled at late night hunts.
...But then, none of those took place in a technicolor kaleidoscope of light, looking to be brighter than the Rangers, in the old days.
It's...strange. To say the least. Hard to get herself into the shadows, so she's stuck channeling a relic of the past--the social butterfly that fluttered oh-so-close to young Kim, like a clingy puppy. As out of practice as she is, maybe that girl's glee can rub off on her again, from memory.
All this to say, there's an awkward-looking woman, pulling a grimace at a roller disco-arcade combo. ]
So not only is it loud, and flashy, and hard on the eyes, it's a Frankenstein-combo of relics past.
Wildcard: Take Aim
[ A time-honored tradition for dystopia survivors: Scavenging and crafting your own weapons. After everything Drakkon did to her, there's no way Kim's accepting one of those from someone here, someone she can't trust.
That's just a recipe to get yourself mind-controlled, after all.
So, since she's some practice in the subject, it doesn't take longer than a day to locate the right materials and get to crafting. She can be found at the back of the motel, testing the pull on various materials for her string, or...well, notching back a stick-like arrow. It's rough? But from how she stares ahead at the target she's painted on the wall, eyes narrowed, it looks like it'll do. ]
Kimberly Ann Hart ("Ranger Slayer") | Mighty Morphin Power Rangers Comics
[ After living in the cold, unfamiliar space of another dimension for forty-some days, waking up in a strange hotel room should be welcome. Hell, after twenty-some years of life under a ruthless dictator, anything should be welcome.
Kimberly Ann Hart learned to stop seeing the glass half-full a long time, ago, though. She almost crushes the phone...except that'd need Ranger powers, and those are limited until they can figure out--wait, no, those are gone. ]
...Alright. So, kidnapped and robbed. Sounds about normal for this place. [ Fine. Just fine. Door isn't locked, she isn't restrained--so the first order of business is to carefully get a handle on what sort of planet (or overheated ship) she's on.
Her whole ensemble's a little much for this kind of heat, so as she's slipping out of the motel room, she's tugging on her collar a little, all the while trying to look for anyone else who might've gotten grabbed from the Prometheus, or... Or anyone who appears here against their will, to begin with.
Jaded as she is, she can't turn away from someone in need...and if you look like you're having a hard time, she'll abandon the pretense of sneaking about and approach, nonetheless. ]
Hey. You. [ Hands raised as a gesture of peace. ] Are you a refugee of this place?
Night Life
[ It's been a long time since Kimberly did anything remotely close to "fun" -- unless you count the brief afternoon after she'd broken from Drakkon's spell, in past Angel Grove, but it ended so abruptly that doing so feels silly. Still, reconnaissance? That she's well acquainted with, and when the sun goes down, the scout comes out. Whether she was fighting against or for Drakkon's forces, she always excelled at late night hunts.
...But then, none of those took place in a technicolor kaleidoscope of light, looking to be brighter than the Rangers, in the old days.
It's...strange. To say the least. Hard to get herself into the shadows, so she's stuck channeling a relic of the past--the social butterfly that fluttered oh-so-close to young Kim, like a clingy puppy. As out of practice as she is, maybe that girl's glee can rub off on her again, from memory.
All this to say, there's an awkward-looking woman, pulling a grimace at a roller disco-arcade combo. ]
So not only is it loud, and flashy, and hard on the eyes, it's a Frankenstein-combo of relics past.
Wildcard: Take Aim
[ A time-honored tradition for dystopia survivors: Scavenging and crafting your own weapons. After everything Drakkon did to her, there's no way Kim's accepting one of those from someone here, someone she can't trust.
That's just a recipe to get yourself mind-controlled, after all.
So, since she's some practice in the subject, it doesn't take longer than a day to locate the right materials and get to crafting. She can be found at the back of the motel, testing the pull on various materials for her string, or...well, notching back a stick-like arrow. It's rough? But from how she stares ahead at the target she's painted on the wall, eyes narrowed, it looks like it'll do. ]