Post by Stelpher on Jun 11, 2015 5:32:47 GMT -5
This character is tied with TLT's Silas, so you may want to read his backstory first. And The Contract. And The Order Of Jotelin. It will all make a lot more sense that way. Cheers.
Character Name: A charon is not considered a person, and so does not have a name, unless given one.
Nickname(s): Charlotte was given her name by her previous Holder.
Race: Human, Caucasian
Sex: Female
Age: 24
Birthplace: Unknown (presumed in the DC area)
Height: 5’11
Weight: 145 lbs
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: A sort of dirty blonde
Hair Style: Ponytail
Facial Hair: N/A
Skin Color: A little on the pale side, but still giving off a healthy vibe
Build: Agile and well-built
Distinguishing Features: Charlotte does not possess any distinguishable physical traits, however she is easily discernible by her (lack of) social skills. She does, however, have a Bioenhancer Strengthening Module implanted inside her (please refer to The Order of Jotelin in the approved factions for details).
Profession: Charon
Skills: Craftsmanship, Firearms and Survival are Charlottes main skillset, and while she can defend herself in hand to hand combat or with most weapons, her true skill shows whilst using firearms.
Training: Charlotte has been taught everything her The Order of Jotelin deemed necessary for her and her Holder’s continued survival. This mainly includes combat training, fitness and survival skills. Due to her charon nature, she has extraordinary amounts of pain resistance.
Other Abilities: Charlotte is a decent cook, and knows how to sow.
Apparel: Reinforced Leather Armor with the words “Charon” embroidered on the arm.
Weaponry: Infiltrator with stock, 10mm pistol and a combat knife.
Other Equipment: Backpack, a few bandages, water bottle (purified), some canned and packaged food, flint and steel, ammunition.
Affiliation: The Order of Jotelin (formerly), Sila
Religious Belief: Charlotte believes entirely in The Order of Jotelin’s doctrine, and while she does not worship Holder’s like gods, she certainly holds them in a higher regard than she does herself (for more, please refer to The Order of Jotelin).
Sexual Preference: Charlotte would be marked as bisexual, as she has been taught to fulfil any and all of her Holder’s needs, regardless of their gender.
Relationship Status: Single, however Charlotte probably can’t even comprehend the purpose of a relationship, so that’s unsurprising.
Personality: For years Charlotte sat in an emotional grey zone. She did what she was told, and that was that. It would be a stretch to say she even had a personality; she was more like a doll that could be ordered around. That was until she encountered Sila. Since she first met him, she’s felt different. As time went by her emotions began to poke out again, and while she is still mostly in that emotional grey zone, the continued positive influence of Sila may one day help her reclaim her humanity.
Charlotte’s story begins with a family of scavengers in the downtown DC area, looking to make a living amongst the scraps. And then they were dead. The only survivor was the youngest daughter, who was quickly abducted by her parent’s murderers. Next thing she knew, she was in a large building surrounding by bright lights and lab coats.
Then everything was gone.
Her name, her parents, her home, everything she had once known.
All gone.
When the girl awoke, she was questioned. Strange men in lab coats asked her many questions.
"What is your name?", "How old are you?", "What do your parents look like?"
The girl could not answer any of these; she just looked on with a blank stare. For a moment, the men seemed concerned. They asked her if she could speak. She nodded, with a simple “Yes.” as her response.
Shortly after, that too was gone from her mind.
The girl was soon taught what she – a charon, a fragment of Charon, the personification of death itself. She was taught her purpose, how she existed to supress her inner nothingness through servitude to a Holder.
Next, she was taught how she was to behave. The girl was punished for going against her Holder, and rewarded for serving them. This soon became as normal to her as night and day. Pain and servitude were her life, but she didn’t complain. She wasn’t a person, she was a shell. That was what she was taught to believe and she quickly learnt to believe it herself, just as all charons had before her. The girl learnt not to form opinions or expectations; she existed purely for her Holder.
Unlike many of her fellow charons, the girl’s body seemed to adopt these rules quicker than most. If she was told to stand still for four hours, she would do exactly that. She would not move, she would not speak, she would simply count. The second she hit the mark, she would move, so she would not be punished for staying still too long. While she would never know herself, her obedience and self-discipline managed to get her a little attention from the higher-ups. Still, her Holder was a harsh one, and even her obedience could not save her from the pain.
Then one day, her mind was blank once more. The principles she had learnt still stuck with her, but any personal memories she had were gone yet again.
As the years passed her by, her body changed. She got better when she was obedient. Stronger, faster, less susceptible to pain, feelings of euphoria. She felt less like a shell and more like she was actually living. However, when she disobeyed, the drawbacks were much worse. Gone were the savage beatings and punishments. Instead, her whole body would be wracked with agonizing pain, her limbs would feel sluggish and heavy, her mind feeling as though it was being torn asunder.
And so she obeyed. No matter what the cost of obeying her Holder’s commands, they would always be preferable to that state of living death.
And then, she learnt how to write her contract. A simple piece of paper that bound her to a Holder, of whom she would serve until the contract was given to another. That or death.
Her contract was taken by a man named Charles Verdis, a High Holder known by a common nickname as ‘The Jackal’. The Jackal was a ruthless and cruel man, who frequently enjoyed exerting his power over others. The man named his newest charon Charlotte.
By the time Charlotte reached the age of sixteen, she had already done horrible things in the name of her Holder. Families massacred, homes destroyed, children abducted. And yet, she did it without batting an eyelid, because the price to pay for disobedience was insufferable. The first time she had disobeyed The Jackal, she lost her chastity. The second, she suffered the agonizing dying effect. Since then she’s been noticeably more obedient.
However, one day, Charlotte’s life changed. The Jackal was sent to deal with a rebellious child, the next in line to become a host for Jotelin. Of course, Charlotte and another charon came with him.
The boy, ‘S1-65’ burst into a fit almost the moment they entered the room, and when Charles opened the pen he was contained in the boy came rushing out and grabbed his leg. A second later, he had been kicked across the room. As Charles turned around, he spoke to Charlotte in a bored tone.
“Char,” He said “Break his arm.”
Before the order had even fully passed through her head, she could already hear the sickening crunch of the boys forearm. But as she did, she felt something, like a pang in her mind.
And that’s how she met Silas.
Eventually, Charlotte would identify the emotion that had passed through her during her encounter with S1-65. Guilt it was called. It puzzled her, because it was such an unfamiliar feeling. A small part of her questioned how she could have broken the child’s arm so easily, and the fact that her internal response didn’t quell the feeling made her even more uneasy.
But why? She had been taught her whole life the she existed to serve her Holder. Her Holder gave her an order and she followed it. Yet the unease remained, waiting silently in the back of her mind.
Many years later, Charlotte was ordered to train the boy by her Holder. A lowly charon like herself was not told why, she was simply expect to obey. And so she did.
She took the room’s keycard, moving through the many tight corridors to where she remembered the boy’s room had been. The card was easily accepted by the door, which swung open with a creak of hinges. Upon seeing her, the boy immediately cowered behind his robot.
“I am not here to hurt you.” Charlotte said. “It has been decided that you’re physical fitness needs development.”
While the words were meant to be an attempt at comfort, she could not manage anything more than her ever neutral expression, and a tone equally as flat.
She led the boy out of his room, into the grey-scale corridor. The corridor ran for maybe thirty meters before ending in a T-junction. As she told the boy to run back and forth until she said otherwise, the words of her Holder repeated in her head.
“If he tries to make a run for it, break one of his legs.”
Training the boy S1-65 became a daily thing, collecting him on mornings to run through all different forms of fitness and exercise. She would then bring the boy his morning meal and return to her Holder to continue with her duties. However, something strange happened the one of the times she visited the boy for their morning schedule. While memory escapes her of how the conversation started, eventually the two ended up talking, and somehow landed on the topic of names. The boy explained to her that he didn’t have a name. Charlotte was not very surprised however; before her Holder gave her the title ‘Charlotte’ she was simply known as charon, just like every other charon. Still, she questioned him if he had been given some form of nickname to be called, instead of just a designation. He had not. She left soon after, not thinking too much of the conversation. She would not yet realize the consequences of the boy’s mild curiosity.
The following morning when she arrived at S1-65’s quarters, there was something extremely out of place. A smile. Not like the small ghost of a smile the boy regularly made, no – this was almost like a grin. Then the boy spoke, an unfamiliar word on his lips.
“Silas.”
“Pardon?” Charlotte responded, unsure what the boy had said.
“My name – Silas.” The boy responded.
An uncertain look on her face, Charlotte exchanged a few more hesitant words with the boy, even going so far as to shake hands, before she continued on with their morning routine.
Later that day, she told Charles about the anomaly during her morning with the boy, and with a grave expression on his face he immediately left to report to Jotelin.
When Charles returned, he moved with a sense of urgency and purpose. Charlotte, Stygian (another charon owned by Charles) and he were moving through the corridors within moments, and it wasn’t hard for Charlotte to work out where they were going – straight to Silas.
As they reached closer and closer to the boys room, that small niggling feeling of guilt begun to return to Charlottes mind. The door slid open as it always had, and the boy quickly retreated behind his robot. As The Jackal began to speak, she was forced to look away. She could feel Silas staring at him, and his gaze felt almost as if it was burning into her very being. A small irrational part of her mind told her that if she dared look him in the eye, she would lose her sight for it.
The voice, the burning sensation, she knew it all to be false, but the guilt remained.
Charlotte was forced to look up however, as the situation rapidly began to escalate. The machine dropped to the floor as it powered down, but then it suddenly shot up again. Its flamethrower engaged, aimed directly at Charles. Before the man had a chance to react, her contract flashed through her mind and she dived at him, forcing him out of the orange glow and onto the ground. She quickly extinguished the flames that had clung to him, before helping him up, murmuring a small apology for pushing him.
Charles charged back towards the boy, furiously grabbing him by the neck and forcing him against a wall. Under normal circumstances, Charlotte would watch idly by, waiting as her Holder drained the life from the boy. But something in her mind shifted as she saw the piece of paper in Silas’ hands, and she now saw her Holder being choked. Her hand went immediately to the 10mm at her side, drawing the weapon. The hammer slowly slid back.
“Stop.” Silas managed as the last of the air left his lungs.
And then The Jackal was no more.
An eternity of silence seemed to pass between the two, before Charlotte stepped forward, folding the contract that had fallen to the floor and returning it to her Holder.
“Holder, we cannot stay here.”
“You just shot him.”
“We must find a way to escape.”
“Why…”
“Silas!” She grabbed his shoulders, raising her voice for the first time in god knows how long. “The First and Second Primary states that I must protect your life and ensure my continued existence. I cannot do either if we just stay here. The rest of the Tower will be on us soon.”
The boy finally responded. “Then what will we do?”
“Leave the Tower."
The escape of the tower and the next few days following blurred into a flurry of gunshots and voices. She could clearly recall a few events though. Giving Silas his first weapon, an R91 model Assault Rifle, and teaching him how to use it. Making Silas a little fur cap from the fur of a dead Yao Gui. Showing him how to make a fire and a little bit of cooking. Watching the nearby city from a ridgeline while Silas gently played his harmonica behind her.
However there was one particular event that seemed to fade in and out of memory, no matter how much she tried to review it. Silas had needed clothes desperately, the patient gowns of his useless out in the wastes. She had been able to give him a make-shift outfit out of various cloths, but the thing was practically falling apart at the seams. And one day while scavenging on the edge of the city, she got exactly what she wanted.
She ran into a family. A family of scavengers. They scavengers had a boy, young, probably around Silas’ age. Carefully approaching them, she tried to ask if they had any spare clothes in their child’s size. Maybe the family had misinterpreted her; maybe they had just been paranoid. Whatever the reason, they drew their guns on her. And she killed them. As she collected the clothes from the child, the father laid with two holes in his neck, the mother with three in her chest, and the child – a single bullet through his head. What she found so peculiar is that like so many others, as she killed them she didn’t feel a thing. No guilt, no regret, nothing. Why she felt so towards Silas remained a complete mystery to her.
But that mystery would have to wait until another time. For now she just needed to get Silas somewhere safe. Some town or settlement. Her Holder was not yet ready to stay out in the wastes for so long, even with her aid, and especially not with The Order still likely after him. For now, she just stuck with what she knew, her contract and her Holder.
That’s what she decided, as she followed the sweet sound of a harmonica streaming from their camp.
Character Name: A charon is not considered a person, and so does not have a name, unless given one.
Nickname(s): Charlotte was given her name by her previous Holder.
Race: Human, Caucasian
Sex: Female
Age: 24
Birthplace: Unknown (presumed in the DC area)
Height: 5’11
Weight: 145 lbs
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: A sort of dirty blonde
Hair Style: Ponytail
Facial Hair: N/A
Skin Color: A little on the pale side, but still giving off a healthy vibe
Build: Agile and well-built
Distinguishing Features: Charlotte does not possess any distinguishable physical traits, however she is easily discernible by her (lack of) social skills. She does, however, have a Bioenhancer Strengthening Module implanted inside her (please refer to The Order of Jotelin in the approved factions for details).
Profession: Charon
Skills: Craftsmanship, Firearms and Survival are Charlottes main skillset, and while she can defend herself in hand to hand combat or with most weapons, her true skill shows whilst using firearms.
Training: Charlotte has been taught everything her The Order of Jotelin deemed necessary for her and her Holder’s continued survival. This mainly includes combat training, fitness and survival skills. Due to her charon nature, she has extraordinary amounts of pain resistance.
Other Abilities: Charlotte is a decent cook, and knows how to sow.
Apparel: Reinforced Leather Armor with the words “Charon” embroidered on the arm.
Weaponry: Infiltrator with stock, 10mm pistol and a combat knife.
Other Equipment: Backpack, a few bandages, water bottle (purified), some canned and packaged food, flint and steel, ammunition.
Affiliation: The Order of Jotelin (formerly), Sila
Religious Belief: Charlotte believes entirely in The Order of Jotelin’s doctrine, and while she does not worship Holder’s like gods, she certainly holds them in a higher regard than she does herself (for more, please refer to The Order of Jotelin).
Sexual Preference: Charlotte would be marked as bisexual, as she has been taught to fulfil any and all of her Holder’s needs, regardless of their gender.
Relationship Status: Single, however Charlotte probably can’t even comprehend the purpose of a relationship, so that’s unsurprising.
Personality: For years Charlotte sat in an emotional grey zone. She did what she was told, and that was that. It would be a stretch to say she even had a personality; she was more like a doll that could be ordered around. That was until she encountered Sila. Since she first met him, she’s felt different. As time went by her emotions began to poke out again, and while she is still mostly in that emotional grey zone, the continued positive influence of Sila may one day help her reclaim her humanity.
Charlotte’s story begins with a family of scavengers in the downtown DC area, looking to make a living amongst the scraps. And then they were dead. The only survivor was the youngest daughter, who was quickly abducted by her parent’s murderers. Next thing she knew, she was in a large building surrounding by bright lights and lab coats.
Then everything was gone.
Her name, her parents, her home, everything she had once known.
All gone.
When the girl awoke, she was questioned. Strange men in lab coats asked her many questions.
"What is your name?", "How old are you?", "What do your parents look like?"
The girl could not answer any of these; she just looked on with a blank stare. For a moment, the men seemed concerned. They asked her if she could speak. She nodded, with a simple “Yes.” as her response.
Shortly after, that too was gone from her mind.
The girl was soon taught what she – a charon, a fragment of Charon, the personification of death itself. She was taught her purpose, how she existed to supress her inner nothingness through servitude to a Holder.
Next, she was taught how she was to behave. The girl was punished for going against her Holder, and rewarded for serving them. This soon became as normal to her as night and day. Pain and servitude were her life, but she didn’t complain. She wasn’t a person, she was a shell. That was what she was taught to believe and she quickly learnt to believe it herself, just as all charons had before her. The girl learnt not to form opinions or expectations; she existed purely for her Holder.
Unlike many of her fellow charons, the girl’s body seemed to adopt these rules quicker than most. If she was told to stand still for four hours, she would do exactly that. She would not move, she would not speak, she would simply count. The second she hit the mark, she would move, so she would not be punished for staying still too long. While she would never know herself, her obedience and self-discipline managed to get her a little attention from the higher-ups. Still, her Holder was a harsh one, and even her obedience could not save her from the pain.
Then one day, her mind was blank once more. The principles she had learnt still stuck with her, but any personal memories she had were gone yet again.
As the years passed her by, her body changed. She got better when she was obedient. Stronger, faster, less susceptible to pain, feelings of euphoria. She felt less like a shell and more like she was actually living. However, when she disobeyed, the drawbacks were much worse. Gone were the savage beatings and punishments. Instead, her whole body would be wracked with agonizing pain, her limbs would feel sluggish and heavy, her mind feeling as though it was being torn asunder.
And so she obeyed. No matter what the cost of obeying her Holder’s commands, they would always be preferable to that state of living death.
And then, she learnt how to write her contract. A simple piece of paper that bound her to a Holder, of whom she would serve until the contract was given to another. That or death.
Her contract was taken by a man named Charles Verdis, a High Holder known by a common nickname as ‘The Jackal’. The Jackal was a ruthless and cruel man, who frequently enjoyed exerting his power over others. The man named his newest charon Charlotte.
By the time Charlotte reached the age of sixteen, she had already done horrible things in the name of her Holder. Families massacred, homes destroyed, children abducted. And yet, she did it without batting an eyelid, because the price to pay for disobedience was insufferable. The first time she had disobeyed The Jackal, she lost her chastity. The second, she suffered the agonizing dying effect. Since then she’s been noticeably more obedient.
However, one day, Charlotte’s life changed. The Jackal was sent to deal with a rebellious child, the next in line to become a host for Jotelin. Of course, Charlotte and another charon came with him.
The boy, ‘S1-65’ burst into a fit almost the moment they entered the room, and when Charles opened the pen he was contained in the boy came rushing out and grabbed his leg. A second later, he had been kicked across the room. As Charles turned around, he spoke to Charlotte in a bored tone.
“Char,” He said “Break his arm.”
Before the order had even fully passed through her head, she could already hear the sickening crunch of the boys forearm. But as she did, she felt something, like a pang in her mind.
And that’s how she met Silas.
Eventually, Charlotte would identify the emotion that had passed through her during her encounter with S1-65. Guilt it was called. It puzzled her, because it was such an unfamiliar feeling. A small part of her questioned how she could have broken the child’s arm so easily, and the fact that her internal response didn’t quell the feeling made her even more uneasy.
But why? She had been taught her whole life the she existed to serve her Holder. Her Holder gave her an order and she followed it. Yet the unease remained, waiting silently in the back of her mind.
Many years later, Charlotte was ordered to train the boy by her Holder. A lowly charon like herself was not told why, she was simply expect to obey. And so she did.
She took the room’s keycard, moving through the many tight corridors to where she remembered the boy’s room had been. The card was easily accepted by the door, which swung open with a creak of hinges. Upon seeing her, the boy immediately cowered behind his robot.
“I am not here to hurt you.” Charlotte said. “It has been decided that you’re physical fitness needs development.”
While the words were meant to be an attempt at comfort, she could not manage anything more than her ever neutral expression, and a tone equally as flat.
She led the boy out of his room, into the grey-scale corridor. The corridor ran for maybe thirty meters before ending in a T-junction. As she told the boy to run back and forth until she said otherwise, the words of her Holder repeated in her head.
“If he tries to make a run for it, break one of his legs.”
Training the boy S1-65 became a daily thing, collecting him on mornings to run through all different forms of fitness and exercise. She would then bring the boy his morning meal and return to her Holder to continue with her duties. However, something strange happened the one of the times she visited the boy for their morning schedule. While memory escapes her of how the conversation started, eventually the two ended up talking, and somehow landed on the topic of names. The boy explained to her that he didn’t have a name. Charlotte was not very surprised however; before her Holder gave her the title ‘Charlotte’ she was simply known as charon, just like every other charon. Still, she questioned him if he had been given some form of nickname to be called, instead of just a designation. He had not. She left soon after, not thinking too much of the conversation. She would not yet realize the consequences of the boy’s mild curiosity.
The following morning when she arrived at S1-65’s quarters, there was something extremely out of place. A smile. Not like the small ghost of a smile the boy regularly made, no – this was almost like a grin. Then the boy spoke, an unfamiliar word on his lips.
“Silas.”
“Pardon?” Charlotte responded, unsure what the boy had said.
“My name – Silas.” The boy responded.
An uncertain look on her face, Charlotte exchanged a few more hesitant words with the boy, even going so far as to shake hands, before she continued on with their morning routine.
Later that day, she told Charles about the anomaly during her morning with the boy, and with a grave expression on his face he immediately left to report to Jotelin.
When Charles returned, he moved with a sense of urgency and purpose. Charlotte, Stygian (another charon owned by Charles) and he were moving through the corridors within moments, and it wasn’t hard for Charlotte to work out where they were going – straight to Silas.
As they reached closer and closer to the boys room, that small niggling feeling of guilt begun to return to Charlottes mind. The door slid open as it always had, and the boy quickly retreated behind his robot. As The Jackal began to speak, she was forced to look away. She could feel Silas staring at him, and his gaze felt almost as if it was burning into her very being. A small irrational part of her mind told her that if she dared look him in the eye, she would lose her sight for it.
The voice, the burning sensation, she knew it all to be false, but the guilt remained.
Charlotte was forced to look up however, as the situation rapidly began to escalate. The machine dropped to the floor as it powered down, but then it suddenly shot up again. Its flamethrower engaged, aimed directly at Charles. Before the man had a chance to react, her contract flashed through her mind and she dived at him, forcing him out of the orange glow and onto the ground. She quickly extinguished the flames that had clung to him, before helping him up, murmuring a small apology for pushing him.
Charles charged back towards the boy, furiously grabbing him by the neck and forcing him against a wall. Under normal circumstances, Charlotte would watch idly by, waiting as her Holder drained the life from the boy. But something in her mind shifted as she saw the piece of paper in Silas’ hands, and she now saw her Holder being choked. Her hand went immediately to the 10mm at her side, drawing the weapon. The hammer slowly slid back.
“Stop.” Silas managed as the last of the air left his lungs.
And then The Jackal was no more.
An eternity of silence seemed to pass between the two, before Charlotte stepped forward, folding the contract that had fallen to the floor and returning it to her Holder.
“Holder, we cannot stay here.”
“You just shot him.”
“We must find a way to escape.”
“Why…”
“Silas!” She grabbed his shoulders, raising her voice for the first time in god knows how long. “The First and Second Primary states that I must protect your life and ensure my continued existence. I cannot do either if we just stay here. The rest of the Tower will be on us soon.”
The boy finally responded. “Then what will we do?”
“Leave the Tower."
The escape of the tower and the next few days following blurred into a flurry of gunshots and voices. She could clearly recall a few events though. Giving Silas his first weapon, an R91 model Assault Rifle, and teaching him how to use it. Making Silas a little fur cap from the fur of a dead Yao Gui. Showing him how to make a fire and a little bit of cooking. Watching the nearby city from a ridgeline while Silas gently played his harmonica behind her.
However there was one particular event that seemed to fade in and out of memory, no matter how much she tried to review it. Silas had needed clothes desperately, the patient gowns of his useless out in the wastes. She had been able to give him a make-shift outfit out of various cloths, but the thing was practically falling apart at the seams. And one day while scavenging on the edge of the city, she got exactly what she wanted.
She ran into a family. A family of scavengers. They scavengers had a boy, young, probably around Silas’ age. Carefully approaching them, she tried to ask if they had any spare clothes in their child’s size. Maybe the family had misinterpreted her; maybe they had just been paranoid. Whatever the reason, they drew their guns on her. And she killed them. As she collected the clothes from the child, the father laid with two holes in his neck, the mother with three in her chest, and the child – a single bullet through his head. What she found so peculiar is that like so many others, as she killed them she didn’t feel a thing. No guilt, no regret, nothing. Why she felt so towards Silas remained a complete mystery to her.
But that mystery would have to wait until another time. For now she just needed to get Silas somewhere safe. Some town or settlement. Her Holder was not yet ready to stay out in the wastes for so long, even with her aid, and especially not with The Order still likely after him. For now, she just stuck with what she knew, her contract and her Holder.
That’s what she decided, as she followed the sweet sound of a harmonica streaming from their camp.