Aliases: Amanda Cohen
Age: 22
Height: 6’ 1”
Weight: 180
Hair Color: Purple
Eye Color: Brown
Birthplace: Citizens of the Dawn Compound, Insula Primalis
Power Source: Weaponry
Group Affiliation: None
Occupation: Adventurer, Mercenary
First Appearance: Emigrant’s Song #1

The hail of gunfire shook the armored truck Amanda Cohen was crouched behind. “Amateurs,” she growled, adjusting her eyepatch as she surveyed what equipment she had left. Assault Rifle? Check. Tactical Shotgun with Incendiary Rounds? Check. Of course, her custom-built hand guns, Pride and Prejudice, were always at her side, both loaded with hollow points. She sighed to herself. “Guess I’m going in with only half of my usual gear.  Well, that’s life!” The tell-tale click of a cartridge being replaced echoed from the other side of her impromptu barrier; she moved. Out from behind the car, her assault rifle throwing bursts of suppressive fire towards her attackers, she quickly side-stepped to a nearby building, rolling the last 5 feet to end her move behind cover. Taking stock, the gun-for-hire grinned. She was down a clip - they were down two men. As she loaded a new magazine into the weapon, her guts suddenly twisted and her knees hit the pavement, hard.
“Heh, you waited too long, little girl. Gave me enough time to find you. Now bullets are the least of your worries,” the floating figure laughed. He clenched his outstretched hand, racking her body with more pain. A manic smile grew on his face as he heard the sobs coming from the prostrate mercenary. At least, they sounded like sobs. Her hands hit the ground, slowly pushing her body up as she laughed. “Little girl?” she chuckled. “Who do you think I am? I didn’t waste my time. I was waiting for you to show up!” The floating figure twisted his hands into fists, focusing his powers on her. To his credit, she faltered a moment before continuing. “Cute. Telekinetics. I bet your mommy’s real proud of you.”  Her attacker’s eyes grew wide, then narrowed as he brought the full-force of his mental might to bear- and a CRACK rang out. The floating man’s body fell to the ground, collapsing like a bag of bones. Amanda deftly holstered Prejudice, smirking. “Psychics. They’re all the same. Get them talking, get them panicked, and that precious brain of theirs jams up like an AR-15 pushing Wolf rounds. Mission accomplished.” She stretched, collecting her assault rifle to finish loading the magazine. “Maybe the next powered mark I get will have actually heard of Expatriette!”