we get what we deserve || open, joining

[Caroline]

[align=center][div style="background:transparent;width:450px;text-align:justify;font-family:verdana;font-size:8.5pt;line-height:120%;"]...
There was a prolonged silence.

Caroline sighed, quietly popping her lower jaw with the palm of her right hand. With a spin of her fingers she swirled her knife in her hand. Two on one wasn't something she couldn't handle, but she'd rather not gut a couple of kids. -- Growling low in her throat, she peered to one side to look at Tatiana. There was no respect in her gaze, nor any fear, just the sort of passive disgust you gave a glance of something nasty -- like a pile of shit. "Edgy." Caroline said flatly after a moment, her arms slowly crossing across her chest as she rocked back and forth on her heels. "Look, kids, you can spew shit out of your mouth but that doesn't mean it doesn't belong in the toilet." Yawned the dark haired woman, her summer colored eyes glaring nastily at Tatiana.

Caro wasn't a person fond of hierarchy, and she definitely didn't like people that didn't know when to shut their whore mouths. Especially stereotypical blondes that probably had someones balls on their chin by the end of the day. Caroline snorts, arms extending at her sides in a gesture of pure attitude -- and sass. Sass-i-tude? "You can spare me whatever sad story made you into an ass, but I can tell you that if you attack me you aren't going to like the result." Grunted the monotone woman with a low sigh.

What an invitation.
[div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; backgroundcolor=; width: auto; font-size: 8.6pt; font-family:verdana; text-align:justify; line-height: 1.4; width: 500px"]
[spoiler=oh, we get what we deserve]BASIC INFORMATION. "Run you down 'til the dark."
〈 Caroline 〡 "Caro" 〡 No other known aliases. No known surname.
〈 Heterosexual biromantic 〡 Female pronouns 〡 Cisgender
〈 ?? years old; appears mid 20s 〡 Undisclosed birthdate. 〡 Ages via. IRL time.
〈 'Aligned' with The Badlands 〡 Holds no distinguished ranking, cares little for hierarchy.

RELATIONSHIPS. ½ ⅓ ¼ ⅕ ⅛
〈 Single〡 Not not searching.〡 No known crushes.
〈 ? x ? [Amnesia; no recollection of past.]〡 G?
〈 Not teaching anyone.〡 Separated from her 'boys'.
〈 ½ Carean〡½ Samoline

APPEARANCE.〡REF.〡HEALTH: [95%]
〈 With a height of 5''4, with long, uncut but groomed black hair and a stony expression, Caroline isn't all that much to look at. With striking orange eyes, a fit athletic build, and a rough around the edges attire that consists majorly of monochrome colors, one could say she is most definitely odd indeed. Her complexion is clear yet pallid, her skin tone being a buttercream coloration. A few freckles are sported on her shoulders and elbows, and ever so faintly on the bridge of her nose and under her eyes.
  — AILMENTS/INJURIES/SCARS: Small scratches and bruises.
  — DISORDERS: Temporary Amnesia.

PERSONALITY.〡BTQ 〡 AEA〡 1 2 3 4 5
〈 Outwardly apathetic and non-talkative; introverted. Prefers to be by herself than around others, strictly business unless around friends. When placed under the pressure of hierarchy, Caroline tends to become aggressive if not outwardly brash. It wouldn't be far fetched to say she would fight to be in charge, although getting her to do so would require a lot of button pushing. Protective of friends and family members, will put the beat down on anyone that she assumes is a threat to herself or those she cares about with no hesitation.

INVENTORY.
〈 A favored silver knife.
〈 .44 Magnum with only pure silver bullets. [6/6 shots]
〈 A half full water canteen. [50%]
〈 A tarnished silver necklace.
〈 Slightly used machete.
〈 Box of matches.
〈 Pack of cigarettes.
〈 Black leather jacket. [Equipped]
〈 White 'wife beater' undershirt. [Equipped]
〈 Dark blue denim jeans. [Equipped]
〈 Black combat boots. [Equipped]
〈 Backpack:
— CONTENTS: Black wife beater, change of pants, change of underwear \ bra, first aid kid, empty canteen, bedroll, pain meds.

INTERACTIONS.〡Reacts very negatively to provocation.
〈 Extreme physical difficulty.〡Trained in hand to hand.
〈 While not 'boxer buff', can and will use lithe build to deal punishing blows. Rarely hits to kill, only incapacitate.
〈 Rarely starts fights but will finish them.
〈 All nonviolent, friendly/peaceful/non-violent actions can be power-played.
〈 When attacking, attack in bold grey underline or be ignored.[/spoiler]

[Caroline]

[div style="background:transparent;width:450px;text-align:justify;font-family:verdana;font-size:8.5pt;line-height:120%;"]There had been three of them, that much she remembered. One was brash, the other more calm (although equally as hard headed when need be). They had only just shut down the engine of their vehicle and entered a vacant warehouse when it happened. From what she could recall, it had been going normally. 'Calm down, boys, I've got this.' She'd stated with confidence, perhaps too much confidence - a black sleeve being risen up to hide the blood that dripped from her nose. Drip, drip. At first it had been a regular fight - hand to hand, knife to skin - the sound of her plunging her weapon into the persons figure was something she couldn't forget. It was like carving into a ham; slehsh, slehsh, slehsh.

They were winning, until -- well -- whatever they had been fighting disappeared. With great scrutiny they looked for their target - their prey - like a pack of starved hounds. 'Caro, can't you just use your .̶́.̸̡̢̕͝.̴͘.̷̡̛͘.̨̛.̀҉͘̕.̷͟͢.̴̕͞͝.͘͜͏.͘͜͞͏̨.̴͏ or something?' The tallest of the trio asked quietly, the blurry glow of a light being shone in her face. 'I can .̷͜.̢͠͡͝.͏́͜͠.̶̸͟.̧́͞͏͡.̢͝.̸̢́́.̶͝.̸̶̢͡.҉̢.̛͘͟͞͏.̛͟.̨̨͏́.̶́͘͢.̶́.̧̧̡͘.̶̸.͜͟͞.̸͜͢.̴́.̛͞ ҉̶̴̡҉.͞҉.̷̶͞͏.̷̴̧.̸̶̵͝.̵̷͢.̕͠ ͝͝.̀̕͜͡.̷̨̡.̴̕͟.҉̷̢͝͡.̶́́͝.҉̧͏̶.̷́̀͟.̵̛̀͘.̶̨̕͜͠, it's just difficult right now. You know that .̸̶̧.͏̨̢͢.̧́͘͝.̧̡͢.҉̡.'

'Look, we split up and search the place, find the bastard, and go--'
It had been such a bright flash of light; she couldn't decipher it. It was a blue luminescence that enveloped her as she stepped in front of a much taller masculine figure. 'Shit! Look out!' -- Just like that it was over, her mind whirled into a state of blackness full of white noise. Very faintly she could hear panicked calling as well as a fizzle, but then zap - it was like she was disconnected from who ever she had been with.

[align=center]48 hours later.

A woman lay still under a dead tree. The ground was filthy with natural and unnatural debris, but that didn't seem to stop her forced slumber. At a distance, it might of looked like she was dead. That was, really, not true, however. Deeply did she breathe in, quickly jerking up and onto her legs, only to fall over with a surprised hitch of breath in her lungs. "Where..?" Names rapidly came to her mind, but the minute she opened her lips to call out for them, they faded like echoes. Grunting, the leather bound woman rose a hand to rub at her nose, forcing away dried blood. "Son of a bitch." She cursed.

Slowly, on wobbly 'new born deer' like legs, she balanced herself against the dead tree with a huff. Quietly she took to looking into her backpack that she managed to grab out of one of the partially alive limbs of the tree. With desperation she opened her canteen, drinking a good half of the water inside before hiding it within her bag once more.

Where the fuck am I?..

[div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; backgroundcolor=; width: auto; font-size: 8.6pt; font-family:verdana; text-align:justify; line-height: 1.4; width: 500px"]
[spoiler=oh, we get what we deserve]BASIC INFORMATION. "Run you down 'til the dark."
〈 Caroline 〡 "Caro" 〡 No other known aliases. No known surname.
〈 Heterosexual biromantic 〡 Female pronouns 〡 Cisgender
〈 ?? years old; appears mid 20s 〡 Undisclosed birthdate. 〡 Ages via. IRL time.
〈 'Aligned' with The Badlands 〡 Holds no distinguished ranking, cares little for hierarchy.

RELATIONSHIPS. ½ ⅓ ¼ ⅕ ⅛
〈 Single〡 Not not searching.〡 No known crushes.
〈 ? x ? [Amnesia; no recollection of past.]〡 G?
〈 Not teaching anyone.〡 Separated from her 'boys'.
〈 ½ Carean〡½ Samoline

APPEARANCE.〡REF.〡HEALTH: [95%]
〈 With a height of 5''4, with long, uncut but groomed black hair and a stony expression, Caroline isn't all that much to look at. With striking orange eyes, a fit athletic build, and a rough around the edges attire that consists majorly of monochrome colors, one could say she is most definitely odd indeed. Her complexion is clear yet pallid, her skin tone being a buttercream coloration. A few freckles are sported on her shoulders and elbows, and ever so faintly on the bridge of her nose and under her eyes.
  — AILMENTS/INJURIES/SCARS: Small scratches and bruises.
  — DISORDERS: Temporary Amnesia.

PERSONALITY.〡BTQ 〡 AEA〡 1 2 3 4 5
〈 Outwardly apathetic and non-talkative; introverted. Prefers to be by herself than around others, strictly business unless around friends. When placed under the pressure of hierarchy, Caroline tends to become aggressive if not outwardly brash. It wouldn't be far fetched to say she would fight to be in charge, although getting her to do so would require a lot of button pushing. Protective of friends and family members, will put the beat down on anyone that she assumes is a threat to herself or those she cares about with no hesitation.

INVENTORY.
〈 A favored silver knife.
〈 .44 Magnum with only pure silver bullets. [6/6 shots]
〈 A half full water canteen. [50%]
〈 A tarnished silver necklace.
〈 Slightly used machete.
〈 Box of matches.
〈 Pack of cigarettes.
〈 Black leather jacket. [Equipped]
〈 White 'wife beater' undershirt. [Equipped]
〈 Dark blue denim jeans. [Equipped]
〈 Black combat boots. [Equipped]
〈 Backpack:
— CONTENTS: Black wife beater, change of pants, change of underwear \ bra, first aid kid, empty canteen, bedroll, pain meds.

INTERACTIONS.〡Reacts very negatively to provocation.
〈 Extreme physical difficulty.〡Trained in hand to hand.
〈 While not 'boxer buff', can and will use lithe build to deal punishing blows. Rarely hits to kill, only incapacitate.
〈 Rarely starts fights but will finish them.
〈 All nonviolent, friendly/peaceful/non-violent actions can be power-played.
〈 When attacking, attack in bold grey underline or be ignored.[/spoiler]

[wraith]

[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; line-height: 15px;"]With the Badlands, Inej typically knew when people came and went; usually the former with a high head, and the latter with their tails tucked between their legs (if they managed to survive to the border). The territory itself seemed to shift and fluctuate with every new and lost addition like water shifting to adjust to new objects planted within in. The atmosphere changed just a bit, the wind moved a different direction - holding it's breath and waiting for blood to spill. The Badlands truly was a very greedy place even at the heart of its living, she could feel the malice twisting and writhing just under the surface of every cracked road and unpaved stretch of mud like a living beast. Maybe that was why she was drawn here.

Inej, however, did not pursue any of these changes: she simply watched. And that was exactly what the lithe assassin did when the territory yawned open to accept and accommodate the new stranger on its tip. It created a facade of welcoming when it was more akin to a starving monster gaping its jaws open and painting the insides with colorful, inconspicuous banners. Like a hunk of meat resting in a bear trap. Inej spent her time gleaning and glossing that bear trap and inviting people in before she pulled the trigger - whether she wanted to or not, she usually ended up holding a knife a breadth away from the throats of everyone in this slum in their first month of being here, if only for a job or out of personal interests. Dragging her tongue over her lower lip but not moving forward, Inej remained concealed by the mere shadows themselves on the abandoned gas station nearest to the border, flipping her knife with the bone handle between her fingers carelessly. From a distance she looked like nothing but a teenage girl waiting for something - a dropoff, a hit, whatever it took.

But she wasn't so much waiting for that as she was waiting for the girl lying slack against the trunk of a tree a good few hundred feet away. Inej wasn't talented in climbing trees, she was talented in climbing walls, but it was more just that she never really attempted to climb trees before. She figured they were different at some level - so she would avoid them and hang back here. As far as she could tell the girl was dead, but that wasn't her judgement to make until somebody else did. Time passed and nobody went out to search her corpse for supplies, and perhaps the unconscious girl had to thank the Saints above for that because that was a rare occurrence. It was likely because she was so close to the border - the slimes here didn't like to stray far from the nest, really. Cowards, but Inej was ending up the same simply because she couldn't stay hidden or find a route of escape.

When the girl rose it was like watching a drowning person finally gasping for air, the breath lurching out of her lungs before she was even full awake and then catching in her throat as she realized there was plenty air to breathe. That solves the dead problem, Inej thought grimly. At least she wouldn't have to watch some greasy Badlands grunt pick at her remains - she could have probably left, but her spine was itching for her to stay, and she supposed it was the Saints that had given her that premonition. She stopped flipping her knife and instead tucked Sankta Alina back in her forearm where it was concealed, crossing her arms across her chest and narrowing her eyes as the girl rooted around in her backs. She looked lost, just like anyone else unfortunate enough to end up here, but she seemed to not even know how she got there in the first place. Interesting.

Eventually Inej broke her silence and decided to move forward. The girl looked weak, vulnerable - walking around as if her legs were unfamiliar to her and rather disoriented in general. That was good; at the very least Inej would be able to escape if time called for it. Technically she could also jump the girl and steal her supplies, but right now she had no reason to and nobody had called for it. She wasn't going to automatically assume the girl was just a nasty wretch like everyone else in the Badlands, but she also wasn't going to assume she was all good and pious either. Moving silently across the mossy ground, Inej remained close to the trees until she was close enough to be within speaking distance, and remained concealed by the shadows as she leaned against a nearby tree and watched her dig around in her supplies. Her hood was lifted to it would be hard to see her, but certainly possible - but she wouldn't be recognizable. She didn't need any knee-jerk assumptions getting this stranger recklessly killed.

"Lost?" It was different from her usual what business? if only because she doubted this girl was aware of any business she had, judging by her state. But the word offered no sympathy or kindness, it was just as curt and apathetic as near everything else she said. She wasn't just going to sit here and fawn over the stranger - most people who ended up in a place like this had a reason, or they were going to become yet another rotting body in the streets, it was as simple as that.

[TATIANA]

track will turn into a post

[Caroline]

[align=center][div style="background:transparent;width:450px;text-align:justify;font-family:verdana;font-size:8.5pt;line-height:120%;"]Caroline felt her body adjusting. The air felt toxic, like she was breathing in fumes through a broken mask. By breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth she was able to calm her pounding heart. I can fix this. Was her first thought, her hands reaching to her undisclosed holster that was hidden faintly by her leather jacket. Lost? The hair on the back of her neck rose, followed by an elegant swinging of herself around to point a gun at Inej's face. Judging the rapid succession of the gun being cocked and her dominant hand - in which that being her right - held its index finger over the trigger - she knew what she was doing. "Who are you." Came her demand, eyes narrowed and expression stony.

Adrenaline flowered through her veins, causing her heart to throb in her ribs like a trapped bird. She didn't identify any of this area, and it definitely wasn't the warehouse that she felt she had just been in. "Where am I." -- Her words lacked query, and were instead the demands a person would make at a robbery. They were cold, like ice on her tongue, each word being accentuated by a burning sensation of hate. How many places had she been? Or, rather, how many places did she think she'd been?

She adjusts her grip on her gun, glowering with soured sunset eyes.
[div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; backgroundcolor=; width: auto; font-size: 8.6pt; font-family:verdana; text-align:justify; line-height: 1.4; width: 500px"]
[spoiler=oh, we get what we deserve]BASIC INFORMATION. "Run you down 'til the dark."
〈 Caroline 〡 "Caro" 〡 No other known aliases. No known surname.
〈 Heterosexual biromantic 〡 Female pronouns 〡 Cisgender
〈 ?? years old; appears mid 20s 〡 Undisclosed birthdate. 〡 Ages via. IRL time.
〈 'Aligned' with The Badlands 〡 Holds no distinguished ranking, cares little for hierarchy.

RELATIONSHIPS. ½ ⅓ ¼ ⅕ ⅛
〈 Single〡 Not not searching.〡 No known crushes.
〈 ? x ? [Amnesia; no recollection of past.]〡 G?
〈 Not teaching anyone.〡 Separated from her 'boys'.
〈 ½ Carean〡½ Samoline

APPEARANCE.〡REF.〡HEALTH: [95%]
〈 With a height of 5''4, with long, uncut but groomed black hair and a stony expression, Caroline isn't all that much to look at. With striking orange eyes, a fit athletic build, and a rough around the edges attire that consists majorly of monochrome colors, one could say she is most definitely odd indeed. Her complexion is clear yet pallid, her skin tone being a buttercream coloration. A few freckles are sported on her shoulders and elbows, and ever so faintly on the bridge of her nose and under her eyes.
  — AILMENTS/INJURIES/SCARS: Small scratches and bruises.
  — DISORDERS: Temporary Amnesia.

PERSONALITY.〡BTQ 〡 AEA〡 1 2 3 4 5
〈 Outwardly apathetic and non-talkative; introverted. Prefers to be by herself than around others, strictly business unless around friends. When placed under the pressure of hierarchy, Caroline tends to become aggressive if not outwardly brash. It wouldn't be far fetched to say she would fight to be in charge, although getting her to do so would require a lot of button pushing. Protective of friends and family members, will put the beat down on anyone that she assumes is a threat to herself or those she cares about with no hesitation.

INVENTORY.
〈 A favored silver knife.
〈 .44 Magnum with only pure silver bullets. [6/6 shots]
〈 A half full water canteen. [50%]
〈 A tarnished silver necklace.
〈 Slightly used machete.
〈 Box of matches.
〈 Pack of cigarettes.
〈 Black leather jacket. [Equipped]
〈 White 'wife beater' undershirt. [Equipped]
〈 Dark blue denim jeans. [Equipped]
〈 Black combat boots. [Equipped]
〈 Backpack:
— CONTENTS: Black wife beater, change of pants, change of underwear \ bra, first aid kid, empty canteen, bedroll, pain meds.

INTERACTIONS.〡Reacts very negatively to provocation.
〈 Extreme physical difficulty.〡Trained in hand to hand.
〈 While not 'boxer buff', can and will use lithe build to deal punishing blows. Rarely hits to kill, only incapacitate.
〈 Rarely starts fights but will finish them.
〈 All nonviolent, friendly/peaceful/non-violent actions can be power-played.
〈 When attacking, attack in bold grey underline or be ignored.[/spoiler]

[wraith]

[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; line-height: 15px;"]Inej did not like guns. It wasn't because she was some kind of peace guru - that much was obvious by her profession, honestly - but rather because they were just... clunky. She would never use one, they took too much time. By the time she had it in place her enemy could be sticking a knife in her gut, and likewise Inej was just as prepared to have one pressed to her head if only because she was all too familiar with it. Undoubtedly the girl would react poorly to the situation, being trapped with a dangerous figure, and Inej didn't even flinch when the barrel came to face her, yawning open and mocking.

The questions flew at her in distorted, chopped demands; further indication that the girl was indeed lost. The Badlands  was a pretty unfortunate place to get lost - perhaps Inej would just slip away and see how she fended for herself with all the creatures writhing around in here. But for now she would observe; the girl would probably try to shoot at her if she just disappeared and she didn't want to have to deal with the attraction that would make because it would make the trip back difficult with senses alert. Gunshuts were about as common as the common birdsong around here if not more, but that didn't mean it didn't make a shiver pass over the spines of the grunts living there. Inej was just the same - she liked to avoid guns, and the girl was making that hard.

"They call me the Wraith," Inej said simply, keeping her voice just as even and cool as before - like she wasn't speaking right into the barrel of a loaded gun. However, that didn't mean she wasn't aware: she was, fingers dancing at her concealed knives in her arms and poised to avoid any flying bullets sent her direction. She probably couldn't just duck out of the fire, but if she kept a careful eye on the girl's movements, a twitch of the finger or a shift in her arm muscles could be all the indication Inej needed. She kept her information blunt, dark gaze unwavering from the postured stranger. "You're in the Badlands. You don't want to be here."

It was honest, but it sounded almost like a challenge coming from the lips of a slight teenage girl who lacked in much muscle or brute force. It was like a little bluebird trying to warn the cat away from its nest because "the height was scary." Still, Inej didn't make empty promises, and what she'd said was a promise - nobody here wanted to be here, unless maybe they craved the thrill of coming near death every passing day of their lives. Either way, it wasn't Inej's business - just a warning that would likely pass right over the tense girl's head. Inej paused, let her gloves fingertips brush over the hilt of Sankt Petyr at her wrist. [b]"And you, lost girl?"

[Caroline]

[align=center][div style="background:transparent;width:450px;text-align:justify;font-family:verdana;font-size:8.5pt;line-height:120%;"]Caroline kept her cold stare locked on "Wrath". Her head tipped to one side --- what sort of person went by the name of a ghost? That was just .. Well .. Stereotypical in spooky times. What's next, she wondered, an armada of 'they call me Wolf because I'm scruffy?'. Snorting, she rolled her eyes and relaxed her posture. She didn't give two shits if this person was good at something to garner the aliases of 'Wraith'. As far as Caroline was concerned, she had seen scarier things and been apart of worse things.

She lowers her gun and holsters it, instead opting for the knife on her right hip. She held it by the hilt firmly - but not too firm as to seem anxious or scared. She was calm, a sort of calm you only really got when you were really fed up with the world or you had just seen too much in it to care. (Caroline would safely say she was both, to be honest.) "Caroline." Came her blunt reply after she felt she had sized her apparent opponent up enough. No one else had been around, so she didn't feel like she was being cornered by rabid mutts in the very least. "People call me Caro." At least I think they do. Caroline was very hesitant to admit she remembered a few words and her name, and how to use what was in her arsenal. That wasn't for this stranger to know.

"Why wouldn't I want to be here? Do the lot of you live like dogs?"

She was blunt.

She adjusts her grip on her gun, glowering with soured sunset eyes.
[div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; backgroundcolor=; width: auto; font-size: 8.6pt; font-family:verdana; text-align:justify; line-height: 1.4; width: 500px"]
[spoiler=oh, we get what we deserve]BASIC INFORMATION. "Run you down 'til the dark."
〈 Caroline 〡 "Caro" 〡 No other known aliases. No known surname.
〈 Heterosexual biromantic 〡 Female pronouns 〡 Cisgender
〈 ?? years old; appears mid 20s 〡 Undisclosed birthdate. 〡 Ages via. IRL time.
〈 'Aligned' with The Badlands 〡 Holds no distinguished ranking, cares little for hierarchy.

RELATIONSHIPS. ½ ⅓ ¼ ⅕ ⅛
〈 Single〡 Not not searching.〡 No known crushes.
〈 ? x ? [Amnesia; no recollection of past.]〡 G?
〈 Not teaching anyone.〡 Separated from her 'boys'.
〈 ½ Carean〡½ Samoline

APPEARANCE.〡REF.〡HEALTH: [95%]
〈 With a height of 5''4, with long, uncut but groomed black hair and a stony expression, Caroline isn't all that much to look at. With striking orange eyes, a fit athletic build, and a rough around the edges attire that consists majorly of monochrome colors, one could say she is most definitely odd indeed. Her complexion is clear yet pallid, her skin tone being a buttercream coloration. A few freckles are sported on her shoulders and elbows, and ever so faintly on the bridge of her nose and under her eyes.
  — AILMENTS/INJURIES/SCARS: Small scratches and bruises.
  — DISORDERS: Temporary Amnesia.

PERSONALITY.〡BTQ 〡 AEA〡 1 2 3 4 5
〈 Outwardly apathetic and non-talkative; introverted. Prefers to be by herself than around others, strictly business unless around friends. When placed under the pressure of hierarchy, Caroline tends to become aggressive if not outwardly brash. It wouldn't be far fetched to say she would fight to be in charge, although getting her to do so would require a lot of button pushing. Protective of friends and family members, will put the beat down on anyone that she assumes is a threat to herself or those she cares about with no hesitation.

INVENTORY.
〈 A favored silver knife.
〈 .44 Magnum with only pure silver bullets. [6/6 shots]
〈 A half full water canteen. [50%]
〈 A tarnished silver necklace.
〈 Slightly used machete.
〈 Box of matches.
〈 Pack of cigarettes.
〈 Black leather jacket. [Equipped]
〈 White 'wife beater' undershirt. [Equipped]
〈 Dark blue denim jeans. [Equipped]
〈 Black combat boots. [Equipped]
〈 Backpack:
— CONTENTS: Black wife beater, change of pants, change of underwear \ bra, first aid kid, empty canteen, bedroll, pain meds.

INTERACTIONS.〡Reacts very negatively to provocation.
〈 Extreme physical difficulty.〡Trained in hand to hand.
〈 While not 'boxer buff', can and will use lithe build to deal punishing blows. Rarely hits to kill, only incapacitate.
〈 Rarely starts fights but will finish them.
〈 All nonviolent, friendly/peaceful/non-violent actions can be power-played.
〈 When attacking, attack in bold grey underline or be ignored.[/spoiler]

[TATIANA]

[align=center][table]