Post by Alanna Craft on Jun 4, 2009 19:27:19 GMT -6
Name: Alanna Craft
Nickname(s): There are some who call her "that one-eyed bitch"... but never to her face.
Age: 34. Unless she tells you otherwise.
Gender: Female.
Affiliation: Civilian.
Personality: Alanna is condescending most of the time, but occasionally she can be overly friendly. She treats most people like inferiors, that is... until they have something she wants, then she's their sweetest friend.
And never, ever mention her eye if you want to live.
Mostly, Alanna thinks she's doing the world a favor by running her business the way she does. The sees her way as the higher road, doing the right thing for the right reasons... but deep down, the only reason she needs is vengeance.
Family: Alanna's parents are living on life support becasue Alanna refuses to pay GeneCo for organ transplants. She honestly believes that life support is better than what she calls "selling their souls to the devil". She has no siblings, loves, or children.
Character Likes: Alanna like the color red, roses, silk, expensive steaks, fine wines, and mahogany wood... Basically she likes being rich enough to afford what would be, I suspect, next to impossible to find otherwise in a Post-Industrial world like the one she's in.
Character Dislikes: GeneCo and people mentioning her eye.
Model Claim: Nichole Kidman.
Appearance or Pictures:
The image is a picture from "Moulin Rouge", manipulated by me in Photoshop.
Alanna is a pale, middle aged woman in prime health, all except for her right eye. Due to an infection she got when she was very young, she needed eye replacement surgery. Put bluntly, the surgery was a failure. Now all that's left in her right socket is a sightless, shriveled brown husk that she's too proud to have removed. The area around the socket is also damaged, looking puffy some days, and sunken others.
She wears her red hair in gentle curls and her dresses in fine red silks, satins, or other finely made materials and only in finely arranged styles.
Background: Alanna grew up far away from GeneCo's center of operations, but that doesn't mean she grew up outside of GeneCo's influence. Rotti Largo was her role model and inspiration her whole life. She'd planned on becoming a key member of GeneCo's staff.
As she grew older, she began to realize the glamor of GeneCo's genetic operas and the lavish lifestyle of the Largos (who were alive through much of Alanna's childhood) was limited only to the Largos and their most trusted yes-men. People were dying all around her. Some from organ failures because they didn't want to risk repossession. Others from the very repossessions they thought they didn't have to fear. Still others died from Zydrate overdoses or in private wars over Zydrate, women, and money.
Still, Alanna clung to the idea of rising above her surroundings, even becoming an executive at GeneCo. Then, one day as she was walking home from an internship position at one of GeneCo's offices, her eye began to itch. And itch. And itch.
She had practically scratched it out before the doctors told her it was infected, and by then it needed to be replaced.
"Just one hit of Zydrate, Ms. Craft, and when you wake up, a whole new eye, better even than the first. We could replace your other one, too, if you like this one!" If only things had gone that well.
Apparently, a nurse in her hospital was smuggling Zydrate to the underground, so the batch Alanna got was tainted somehow. It didn't knock her out. Instead, she watched in horror as the scalpel inched closer and closer to her eye. She screamed in terror, but her doctor and her nurse refused to give her more Zydrate- believing that she was just faking to get another hit. The doctor sliced into her eye with Alanna screaming in terror and pain. Alanna clawed at the man's hand, slicing his wrist with her nails. She fled the surgeon's office with blood and fluid from her eye mixing with her tears.
She disappeared. Months later, a medical supply company called "VisN Inc." (pronounced: Vision Incorporated) hit the scene. They sold scalpels, bedpans, IV's, defibrillators, anything and everything a hospital would need to run efficiently. And they sold high quality goods at outrageously low prices. Three years later, they branched out into pharmaceuticals. Antibiotics, antiseptics, low-grade painkillers, and other drugs flooded the market with VisN Inc.'s logo on their label.
That was seven years ago. Now VisN Inc. is a powerhouse. While certainly not as public as GeneCo, VisN Inc. has developed the wealth to rival them financially, and at the big desk running things is Alanna Craft. She manages so efficiently that some might claim that she only has to give the word and her subordinates can happily move mountains.
Rumor has it that VisN Inc. is going to implement a new medical program that doesn't deal with the supply side of things... but only Alanna knows what her company's ultimate goals are.
Roleplay Sample: (Setting and characters are from my fanfiction piece "Oceanus: The First Frontier". Star Trek and all related characters belong to Paramount.)
Spock was sitting in a contemplative pose on a simple wooden chair behind a simpler wooden desk in his quarters. A cot was nailed to the wall and the floor in the back corner of the room, it’s mattress so thinly stuffed that the Vulcan might as well have been sleeping on the tightly wound ropes that supported it. Under the cot was a locked chest just like the one in Leonard and Scotty’s quarters. Unlike Leonard and Scotty’s quarters, though, there were three small shelves nailed to the wall of the room, their wood a warm honey color instead of the dark mahogany color of the other walls and furniture. They were a new addition to the old ship. On the shelves were books. The Bible was no surprise, though unlike most of the Bibles he had seen, the spine looked crisp- like the book had never been cracked- which to a Christian man like Leonard was a surprise, if not an offence. Though, if Leonard really considered it, it made sense; why would a sea-demon see any purpose in reading the Bible? There were other books that Leonard recognized: a very dog-eared copy of Caesar’s De Bello Gallico, a copy of Plato’s Republic that had some pages poking out of their usual positions- indicating that they had fallen out of the book and were re-secured, either permanently or temporarily- somehow, a few books bound in unmarked leather covers, and three books bound in cheap leather: one reading “Ship’s Logs,” another reading “First Officer’s Logs,” and the last reading “Boatswain’s Mate’s Logs”. McCoy noted that the writing on the covers of those three books were all different in style- handwritten by the men who penned the entries, no doubt.
McCoy hadn’t come here to discuss literature- and while he didn’t actually want to be discussing swordplay with the Vulcan, Scotty had assured him that Spock was the only man for teaching him how to defend himself properly. “I am not disturbing you, I hope?”
Nickname(s): There are some who call her "that one-eyed bitch"... but never to her face.
Age: 34. Unless she tells you otherwise.
Gender: Female.
Affiliation: Civilian.
Personality: Alanna is condescending most of the time, but occasionally she can be overly friendly. She treats most people like inferiors, that is... until they have something she wants, then she's their sweetest friend.
And never, ever mention her eye if you want to live.
Mostly, Alanna thinks she's doing the world a favor by running her business the way she does. The sees her way as the higher road, doing the right thing for the right reasons... but deep down, the only reason she needs is vengeance.
Family: Alanna's parents are living on life support becasue Alanna refuses to pay GeneCo for organ transplants. She honestly believes that life support is better than what she calls "selling their souls to the devil". She has no siblings, loves, or children.
Character Likes: Alanna like the color red, roses, silk, expensive steaks, fine wines, and mahogany wood... Basically she likes being rich enough to afford what would be, I suspect, next to impossible to find otherwise in a Post-Industrial world like the one she's in.
Character Dislikes: GeneCo and people mentioning her eye.
Model Claim: Nichole Kidman.
Appearance or Pictures:
The image is a picture from "Moulin Rouge", manipulated by me in Photoshop.
Alanna is a pale, middle aged woman in prime health, all except for her right eye. Due to an infection she got when she was very young, she needed eye replacement surgery. Put bluntly, the surgery was a failure. Now all that's left in her right socket is a sightless, shriveled brown husk that she's too proud to have removed. The area around the socket is also damaged, looking puffy some days, and sunken others.
She wears her red hair in gentle curls and her dresses in fine red silks, satins, or other finely made materials and only in finely arranged styles.
Background: Alanna grew up far away from GeneCo's center of operations, but that doesn't mean she grew up outside of GeneCo's influence. Rotti Largo was her role model and inspiration her whole life. She'd planned on becoming a key member of GeneCo's staff.
As she grew older, she began to realize the glamor of GeneCo's genetic operas and the lavish lifestyle of the Largos (who were alive through much of Alanna's childhood) was limited only to the Largos and their most trusted yes-men. People were dying all around her. Some from organ failures because they didn't want to risk repossession. Others from the very repossessions they thought they didn't have to fear. Still others died from Zydrate overdoses or in private wars over Zydrate, women, and money.
Still, Alanna clung to the idea of rising above her surroundings, even becoming an executive at GeneCo. Then, one day as she was walking home from an internship position at one of GeneCo's offices, her eye began to itch. And itch. And itch.
She had practically scratched it out before the doctors told her it was infected, and by then it needed to be replaced.
"Just one hit of Zydrate, Ms. Craft, and when you wake up, a whole new eye, better even than the first. We could replace your other one, too, if you like this one!" If only things had gone that well.
Apparently, a nurse in her hospital was smuggling Zydrate to the underground, so the batch Alanna got was tainted somehow. It didn't knock her out. Instead, she watched in horror as the scalpel inched closer and closer to her eye. She screamed in terror, but her doctor and her nurse refused to give her more Zydrate- believing that she was just faking to get another hit. The doctor sliced into her eye with Alanna screaming in terror and pain. Alanna clawed at the man's hand, slicing his wrist with her nails. She fled the surgeon's office with blood and fluid from her eye mixing with her tears.
She disappeared. Months later, a medical supply company called "VisN Inc." (pronounced: Vision Incorporated) hit the scene. They sold scalpels, bedpans, IV's, defibrillators, anything and everything a hospital would need to run efficiently. And they sold high quality goods at outrageously low prices. Three years later, they branched out into pharmaceuticals. Antibiotics, antiseptics, low-grade painkillers, and other drugs flooded the market with VisN Inc.'s logo on their label.
That was seven years ago. Now VisN Inc. is a powerhouse. While certainly not as public as GeneCo, VisN Inc. has developed the wealth to rival them financially, and at the big desk running things is Alanna Craft. She manages so efficiently that some might claim that she only has to give the word and her subordinates can happily move mountains.
Rumor has it that VisN Inc. is going to implement a new medical program that doesn't deal with the supply side of things... but only Alanna knows what her company's ultimate goals are.
Roleplay Sample: (Setting and characters are from my fanfiction piece "Oceanus: The First Frontier". Star Trek and all related characters belong to Paramount.)
Spock was sitting in a contemplative pose on a simple wooden chair behind a simpler wooden desk in his quarters. A cot was nailed to the wall and the floor in the back corner of the room, it’s mattress so thinly stuffed that the Vulcan might as well have been sleeping on the tightly wound ropes that supported it. Under the cot was a locked chest just like the one in Leonard and Scotty’s quarters. Unlike Leonard and Scotty’s quarters, though, there were three small shelves nailed to the wall of the room, their wood a warm honey color instead of the dark mahogany color of the other walls and furniture. They were a new addition to the old ship. On the shelves were books. The Bible was no surprise, though unlike most of the Bibles he had seen, the spine looked crisp- like the book had never been cracked- which to a Christian man like Leonard was a surprise, if not an offence. Though, if Leonard really considered it, it made sense; why would a sea-demon see any purpose in reading the Bible? There were other books that Leonard recognized: a very dog-eared copy of Caesar’s De Bello Gallico, a copy of Plato’s Republic that had some pages poking out of their usual positions- indicating that they had fallen out of the book and were re-secured, either permanently or temporarily- somehow, a few books bound in unmarked leather covers, and three books bound in cheap leather: one reading “Ship’s Logs,” another reading “First Officer’s Logs,” and the last reading “Boatswain’s Mate’s Logs”. McCoy noted that the writing on the covers of those three books were all different in style- handwritten by the men who penned the entries, no doubt.
McCoy hadn’t come here to discuss literature- and while he didn’t actually want to be discussing swordplay with the Vulcan, Scotty had assured him that Spock was the only man for teaching him how to defend himself properly. “I am not disturbing you, I hope?”
