OOC: Character Profile
OOC Info:
Name: Jeis
Age: 26
Email: jeisattack at gmail dot com
AIM: osoidon
Character Info:
Full Name: Amberlin “Silence” Jai
Race: Human
If Other, provide a description of how they differ from humans: NA
Occupation: Assassin/Gang Boss/Spy
Faction, if applicable: NA, Silence follows the Path of Secrets and Money.
Reputation & Rumors: Silence is a well-known name about the city. Silence is a man. “His” is the name used to keep unruly children in line or to incite budding street criminals to strive for success. “He” is believed to be responsible for numerous crimes that include but are not limited to significant assassinations, including the untimely demise of Lord Vidar, Zisar, Frey and Var Bercatour. In some areas it is thought “he” had business links to the House and their deaths were due to a deal gone sour, others believe the links were familial and that the motivation was revenge, or that Silence “himself” will be seeking their killers to exact recompense. Urban legend has made “him” larger than life: “he” can see and hear from one shadow to the next, that no secret is safe, that no target can hide.
Age: 26
Birthday: May 1st
Birth Location: Tyrol
Height: 5’11”
Weight: 125lbs
PB: Omahyra Mota
History:
The illegitimate daughter of a whore named Cherry, Amber’s earliest years consisted of what most would consider an average childhood - if one was in possession of a mother who serviced street criminal and corrupt noble alike. Although Amber was originally one of three children in the family, the others were both boys and of no use to Cherry. With little to no reluctance, the male babies were foisted on whichever orphanage or charity that would have them. Amber, the middle child, she kept, intended to raise the child to be an upwardly mobile courtesan. Whoring would not be good enough for a child she believed to have noble breeding.
Surrounded by thieves, cutthroats, and whores, Amber had a somewhat intermingled upbringing. Contrary to her mother’s wishes, it was evident from the earliest days that Amber was somewhat masculine in nature. She spent large amounts of her time in the street playing with the rabble of urchins that spilled through the evening streets. She begged a coin here, filched a pastry there, and when that palled in its amusements, picked pockets, snatched purses, and hardened up both hands and feet by scrambling through the rooftops in madcap races. No matter how much Cherry argued, fought, bartered and shrieked it made no difference. Amber, it seemed, was cut from a different cloth.
Just how much she differed was evident early on. Where Cherry raged hot, Amber was cool; where the mother ran through money like she went through men, Amber stored each and every copper circle she had for a later date; Cherry was chatty and sharp, vicious and petty. Amber was quiet and avoided social politics, preferring to watch as a neutral from the sidelines. When faced with violence, Cherry would cower, cajole, or flee. Amber used her fists. In fact, it seemed the only thing Amber had inherited from her mother was olive skin and ebon hair, their slender frames the only evidence that they were related at all. Eventually, even that changed.
When Amber reached her teens, she caught that disease familiar to all girls of that age: she grew. Unlike most girls, however, Amber grew, and grew, and grew. Soon, she towered over her diminutive mother, and not too long after, she didn’t find it difficult to stare down the men who visited the establishment. Her height was, for Cherry, the last nail in a long-abandoned coffin: no noble would hold a woman so close to his own height on his arm. The height must have come from her father - the one Cherry insisted was of rich, genteel birth. No matter how much Amber pestered and poked, her mother refused to point fingers or name names. It was only at the time of her death from the pox that Cherry gave up the secret, and by that point Amber could not be sure whether it was Cherry or the fever talking.
She was fourteen at that point, a gawky, gangly youngster already standing at five feet and nine inches, with too much leg and no womanly curves to speak of. With Cherry dead, Amber was faced with a problem. The law of the brothel was quite clear: contribute or leave. With Cherry’s form of contribution deceased, Amber had the choice of taking over or departing. It took only one client to spur her decision, and without further ado, Amber left the brothel and apprenticed herself to a burglar - as a boy. Girls had very little place on the street, their job roles were often stereotypical. If Amber wanted to carve any kind of success for herself in the gutters, ‘she’ would have to become a ‘he’. Thus did Amberlin leave, and Jai arrive.
The burglar Jai apprenticed herself to was in many ways a typical sort. A rooftop thief known as Madon, he made his way in the world by ransacking apartments and fencing forward the goods. Having Jai about meant he had a look-out and dogs body. She was a little tall to be doing any real squeezing through windows, but her slight build made her perfect for hiding in alcoves or wriggling through crowds. Any extra income made by her slender, light fingers was a bonus; she certainly wasn’t getting any hand-me-downs from her teacher. The occupation palled swiftly, her Master short-tempered and far too loose with what money he had. A drunk and a gambler, he was not the person to be around for long periods of time. As luck would have it, though, shortly after Jai’s sixteenth naming day there heralded a more appealing bid for her services.
The difficulty with being a thief is that one often had to deal with tricksters when trying to offload one’s spoils. Madon’s liaison with an ale jar meant that he was often cheated out of decent deals. Coupled with his gambling habit, it wasn’t long before he was too far in debt to be worth any further years of life, and someone higher up the chain of criminality removed him from business - permanently. Jai, mistaken for a boy, was seized as part of debt recovery and hauled, along with the other meager remnants of Madon’s belongings, to an audience with the Ghost.
The Ghost wasn’t a real ghost. Such was apparent the moment Jai set eye on him. He was a seedy, wiry little man with flintlike chips for eyes and a twisted line for a mouth. It was a scar that did it, a jagged marr that tugged down the right corner of his lips and rendered him forever sour-faced. She knew who he was; who didn’t? His was a substantial name in the Gutter, whispered and bandied about as a man to avoid crossing. He ostensibly ran a network of criminal working through the City’s lower portions, a mixed bag containing thieves, whores, spies and cutthroats alike.
A lively discussion sprang up between the Ghost’s Court when Jai was brought. Tossed at his feet with the other dross, she did the wise thing and stayed down where she was. In this room, one wrong move would mean her death. She was too big to be a runner boy, they argued, too hard-faced to be of any use as a boy-whore. She was too old to be a pickpocket, too tall to be a burglar. On and on they went, listing her flaws, her errors, her unlikelihood of bringing in any gainful form of cash. As was her wont, Jai stayed silent through the whole affair.
When the furor died down, there was but one person in the room left to speak. The Ghost himself, his puckered mouth covered with the fingers of one hand, leaned on his elbow, casual, calm, and undisputedly in charge. His eyes had not moved from Jai at all. It was an evaluative gaze, a secretive one, and perhaps most worryingly of all, a knowing one. When all voices had stopped, and all eyes turned forward, the Ghost spoke, directing his meager words not to any of his brethren, but to Jai herself.
“Tell me,” he said. “If you are too tall to burgle, too old to pickpocket, and too ugly to whore, just what is it that you are tall enough to do, old enough to do, and ugly enough to do?”
Fortunately, it took Jai very little time to answer. There was only one other talent she had. “Listen,” she said, dropping her voice to a gruff, boy’s tenor. “I can listen.”
“Good answer,” he replied. “From now on, you will listen for me.”
From then on, Jai’s life completely changed. As the Ghost had promised, her primary job was information gathering. She nosed through the city on a day to day basis, networking with clients, street sellers and urchins alike, her ears to the ground. What information she found, she put together and fed through to the Ghost for him to deal with. Despite being one of the riskier forms of underworld employment, it was a good job to have. Jai enjoyed the investigation, enjoyed the chase, loved the feeling of triumph when a particular jigsaw puzzle of conflicting information pieced together to make a seamless whole.
To aid her in her work, the Ghost taught her how to read and write. He taught her how to defend herself with fist, dagger, hand and foot. As she grew in stature and age, the time she spent with the Ghost increased more and more. It took two and a half years to find out the name he wore beneath the title: Lorr. A secret for a secret she’d got; to save her embarrassment, to save any awkwardness. He’d discovered she was a girl, her monthly blood too hard a secret to hide from such an attentive Master. He’d known all along, he claimed, citing it and his curiosity as reasons for saving her from the morgue those years past. By the way, he’d added. You’re not too tall, and you’re not too old, and you’re not too ugly.
His name was Lorr. It took another year before she let him meet Amber, and another six months before their relationship progressed to further exploration. For a time, this rendered them content, and Jai’s training continued.
Lorr, she learned, did a lot of work for the higher echelon of Tyrol’s population. The day-to-day management of the underground did not take all of his time, and he was not built to sit atop a decaying chair and deal out mandates. Unfortunately the chair was not a choice one took. One earned the position by reputation and experience, and one only relinquished the chair in death. If Jai had a mind for it, Ghost would gradually let her deal with the day to day running of things so that he could concentrate further on his projects in the world above. It wasn’t a daunting prospect: barring the actual decision making, she’d been working with him for a goodly period when hashing out information. At a mature 20 years of age, it was a small enough step to take, and Jai was ambitious. From then onwards she was known as Ghost’s right hand man.
Over the next span of years, the duo worked well. Jai’s homespun name was eventually replaced on the street by one her reputation and habits created. She liked Silence, reveled in it. She exulted in the whispers that a blanket of silence could expose, loved the way that Silence could be used to incite guided, chosen reactions. Silence was joyful, Silence was strong, Silence was tragic, it was fearful. That with the experience she’d gained in being unseen and unheard in her years of gathering and selling information put together a tidy packet for her to use when moving forward. What she didn’t realize was that Ghost was training her to be his replacement in more things than just administration.
It is often said that fateful events travel in packs of three. Cherry had died, ejecting Jai from the chrysalis of hearth and home; Madon had died, elevating Jai’s prospects from nil to go. In the summer of Jai’s twenty fourth year, Ghost perished. Poisoned, he died in the comfort of his bed, surviving just long enough to pass Jai the names of his most frequent employers. She could introduce herself and take over, he said. She was ready.
It took several weeks for Jai to recover enough to fully function. Never the emotional sort, she distracted herself by taking on the job of holding together Ghost’s criminal territory. The usual way of things was that he who killed the king took the throne, but Jai wasn’t about to let the hard work they’d put in go to waste. To all intents and purposes, Silence was male. He’d been the Ghost’s right hand, and now he would be the left as well. It took a few vicious fights, a few ruthless, murderous decisions, and lots of hard-eyed staring, but eventually the field was conceded. The objections, the street said, had been Silenced.
Since then, Silence has been reigning with calculated caution in his quadrant of the city. With Ghost gone, Jai knew it would be far too risky to allow anyone so close into her confidences. Her gender would forever get in the way should it become knowledge. Her business face became her common face, and without any need to use the emotions which had proved so torturous and grieving in the past, they atrophied, leaving the new Boss with very little in the way of compassion. Between her duties as crime boss and her regular contracts among the City Elite, she never lacks things to keep her challenged. She uses the currency of Belief to maintain her grip on her employees and stakeholders, to maintain the fiction of her masculinity, and to promote the idea that the shadows provide a method for Silence to hear and see whatever and wherever he wants. It hasn’t yet worked to the point where Jai can use the shadows in such a fashion, but she periodically tests the water in the hope that one day the myth will become reality. Silence is everywhere.
Personality:
By experience and necessity, Jai keeps her counsel close. She is clipped, curt, and some would say blunt to the point of rudeness. She does not suffer fools or ignorance gladly, and her sarcasm is dry as bone. It takes a lot to faze her and a lot more to make it show. Aware that she has two ears and one mouth, Jai refuses to waste words, preferring to be thought of as slow to consider than rash and foolhardy in speech. However when it comes to action, she thinks quickly and responds decisively. She enjoys the challenge of turning around a disadvantage to enable a later win, and is fond of losing a battle to win a war. Despite her financial motivation, Jai is a loyal beast. Once bought, she stays bought until the job or the period of time paid for are complete.
It is safe to say that Jai is unhealthily sexist - against her own gender. She views most women as inferior beings who belong in convents, kitchens or brothels, and unfortunately makes life hard for any female who comes under her purview. In truth, she fears women. Their common grasp of emotion unsettles her, and she’s more highly paranoid in their presence that they will discover her true gender. She fears emotion, and would rather appear a heartless automaton than risk revealing weakness at the wrong time. She is unlikely to become embroiled in any argument or take sides, preferring to wait until the chips have come down on one side or the other. Jai will be on the winning side in the end, whichever one it is.
Personality Keywords: Ruthless, efficient, reliable, loyal, curious, nosy, impatient, thrillseeker.
Appearance:
Jai is tall, especially so for a woman. Her features are strong and masculine, an effect she has striven to enhance throughout the last ten years, and one that becomes more and more apparent as Belief of her masculinity spreads throughout the City. Her hair is hacked short and left its original black. Her shoulders are at once slender and broad, giving the impression of square strength when viewed through layers of clothing. She is wire thin and tightly muscled, with swarthy skin, dark-eyes and impassive by default, rarely letting any part of either thought or emotion pass across her face. For a man, of course, her voice is light, but years of practice and exposure has perfected the gruff, rough tenor that convinces her lackeys that she remains a worthy boss. Her clothing is limited to no-nonsense leather armour, its innards coated with chemicals to render it strong. It is invariably dark grey or black, and when she is sleuthing the streets, she covers herself with a cloak, her lower face covered with a mask. Due to the worlds she sifts between, she has trained her accent to where she can ‘belong’ in any social circle.
Languages Known: English, has picked up fragments of French, Spanish and German to communicate with clients, but is far from fluent.
Skills: Logic, knife fighting, sleight of hand, methods of assassination, infiltration and spy work
Strengths: Thinks and reacts quickly, extremely good at moving about unseen and unheard.
Weaknesses: Biased against women, fear of commitment and emotion, ugly social skills, finds it very difficult to empathise or sympathise, has no maternal instinct, is more confused about gender the more Belief affects her situation. She is claustrophobic, she cannot swim and fears large stretches of deep or moving water. She fears loss of control of any kind. Curiosity is a major weak point - she cannot leave a stone unturned for wishing to know what lies beneath. If there is an alleyway with an intriguing light at the other end, Jai will be the one to investigate first.
Timeline:
Bulletpoint Timeline:
Amber - Brothel brat.
Jai - leaves home @ 14
Jai - Apprenticeship with Madon 14-16
Jai- Ghost Whisper Nose / Apprentice - 16-20
Jai/Silence - Ghost's Right Hand - 20-24
Silence - Replaces Ghost as leader of Whispers & City Assassin, 24-present.
Name: Jeis
Age: 26
Email: jeisattack at gmail dot com
AIM: osoidon
Character Info:
Full Name: Amberlin “Silence” Jai
Race: Human
If Other, provide a description of how they differ from humans: NA
Occupation: Assassin/Gang Boss/Spy
Faction, if applicable: NA, Silence follows the Path of Secrets and Money.
Reputation & Rumors: Silence is a well-known name about the city. Silence is a man. “His” is the name used to keep unruly children in line or to incite budding street criminals to strive for success. “He” is believed to be responsible for numerous crimes that include but are not limited to significant assassinations, including the untimely demise of Lord Vidar, Zisar, Frey and Var Bercatour. In some areas it is thought “he” had business links to the House and their deaths were due to a deal gone sour, others believe the links were familial and that the motivation was revenge, or that Silence “himself” will be seeking their killers to exact recompense. Urban legend has made “him” larger than life: “he” can see and hear from one shadow to the next, that no secret is safe, that no target can hide.
Age: 26
Birthday: May 1st
Birth Location: Tyrol
Height: 5’11”
Weight: 125lbs
PB: Omahyra Mota
History:
The illegitimate daughter of a whore named Cherry, Amber’s earliest years consisted of what most would consider an average childhood - if one was in possession of a mother who serviced street criminal and corrupt noble alike. Although Amber was originally one of three children in the family, the others were both boys and of no use to Cherry. With little to no reluctance, the male babies were foisted on whichever orphanage or charity that would have them. Amber, the middle child, she kept, intended to raise the child to be an upwardly mobile courtesan. Whoring would not be good enough for a child she believed to have noble breeding.
Surrounded by thieves, cutthroats, and whores, Amber had a somewhat intermingled upbringing. Contrary to her mother’s wishes, it was evident from the earliest days that Amber was somewhat masculine in nature. She spent large amounts of her time in the street playing with the rabble of urchins that spilled through the evening streets. She begged a coin here, filched a pastry there, and when that palled in its amusements, picked pockets, snatched purses, and hardened up both hands and feet by scrambling through the rooftops in madcap races. No matter how much Cherry argued, fought, bartered and shrieked it made no difference. Amber, it seemed, was cut from a different cloth.
Just how much she differed was evident early on. Where Cherry raged hot, Amber was cool; where the mother ran through money like she went through men, Amber stored each and every copper circle she had for a later date; Cherry was chatty and sharp, vicious and petty. Amber was quiet and avoided social politics, preferring to watch as a neutral from the sidelines. When faced with violence, Cherry would cower, cajole, or flee. Amber used her fists. In fact, it seemed the only thing Amber had inherited from her mother was olive skin and ebon hair, their slender frames the only evidence that they were related at all. Eventually, even that changed.
When Amber reached her teens, she caught that disease familiar to all girls of that age: she grew. Unlike most girls, however, Amber grew, and grew, and grew. Soon, she towered over her diminutive mother, and not too long after, she didn’t find it difficult to stare down the men who visited the establishment. Her height was, for Cherry, the last nail in a long-abandoned coffin: no noble would hold a woman so close to his own height on his arm. The height must have come from her father - the one Cherry insisted was of rich, genteel birth. No matter how much Amber pestered and poked, her mother refused to point fingers or name names. It was only at the time of her death from the pox that Cherry gave up the secret, and by that point Amber could not be sure whether it was Cherry or the fever talking.
She was fourteen at that point, a gawky, gangly youngster already standing at five feet and nine inches, with too much leg and no womanly curves to speak of. With Cherry dead, Amber was faced with a problem. The law of the brothel was quite clear: contribute or leave. With Cherry’s form of contribution deceased, Amber had the choice of taking over or departing. It took only one client to spur her decision, and without further ado, Amber left the brothel and apprenticed herself to a burglar - as a boy. Girls had very little place on the street, their job roles were often stereotypical. If Amber wanted to carve any kind of success for herself in the gutters, ‘she’ would have to become a ‘he’. Thus did Amberlin leave, and Jai arrive.
The burglar Jai apprenticed herself to was in many ways a typical sort. A rooftop thief known as Madon, he made his way in the world by ransacking apartments and fencing forward the goods. Having Jai about meant he had a look-out and dogs body. She was a little tall to be doing any real squeezing through windows, but her slight build made her perfect for hiding in alcoves or wriggling through crowds. Any extra income made by her slender, light fingers was a bonus; she certainly wasn’t getting any hand-me-downs from her teacher. The occupation palled swiftly, her Master short-tempered and far too loose with what money he had. A drunk and a gambler, he was not the person to be around for long periods of time. As luck would have it, though, shortly after Jai’s sixteenth naming day there heralded a more appealing bid for her services.
The difficulty with being a thief is that one often had to deal with tricksters when trying to offload one’s spoils. Madon’s liaison with an ale jar meant that he was often cheated out of decent deals. Coupled with his gambling habit, it wasn’t long before he was too far in debt to be worth any further years of life, and someone higher up the chain of criminality removed him from business - permanently. Jai, mistaken for a boy, was seized as part of debt recovery and hauled, along with the other meager remnants of Madon’s belongings, to an audience with the Ghost.
The Ghost wasn’t a real ghost. Such was apparent the moment Jai set eye on him. He was a seedy, wiry little man with flintlike chips for eyes and a twisted line for a mouth. It was a scar that did it, a jagged marr that tugged down the right corner of his lips and rendered him forever sour-faced. She knew who he was; who didn’t? His was a substantial name in the Gutter, whispered and bandied about as a man to avoid crossing. He ostensibly ran a network of criminal working through the City’s lower portions, a mixed bag containing thieves, whores, spies and cutthroats alike.
A lively discussion sprang up between the Ghost’s Court when Jai was brought. Tossed at his feet with the other dross, she did the wise thing and stayed down where she was. In this room, one wrong move would mean her death. She was too big to be a runner boy, they argued, too hard-faced to be of any use as a boy-whore. She was too old to be a pickpocket, too tall to be a burglar. On and on they went, listing her flaws, her errors, her unlikelihood of bringing in any gainful form of cash. As was her wont, Jai stayed silent through the whole affair.
When the furor died down, there was but one person in the room left to speak. The Ghost himself, his puckered mouth covered with the fingers of one hand, leaned on his elbow, casual, calm, and undisputedly in charge. His eyes had not moved from Jai at all. It was an evaluative gaze, a secretive one, and perhaps most worryingly of all, a knowing one. When all voices had stopped, and all eyes turned forward, the Ghost spoke, directing his meager words not to any of his brethren, but to Jai herself.
“Tell me,” he said. “If you are too tall to burgle, too old to pickpocket, and too ugly to whore, just what is it that you are tall enough to do, old enough to do, and ugly enough to do?”
Fortunately, it took Jai very little time to answer. There was only one other talent she had. “Listen,” she said, dropping her voice to a gruff, boy’s tenor. “I can listen.”
“Good answer,” he replied. “From now on, you will listen for me.”
From then on, Jai’s life completely changed. As the Ghost had promised, her primary job was information gathering. She nosed through the city on a day to day basis, networking with clients, street sellers and urchins alike, her ears to the ground. What information she found, she put together and fed through to the Ghost for him to deal with. Despite being one of the riskier forms of underworld employment, it was a good job to have. Jai enjoyed the investigation, enjoyed the chase, loved the feeling of triumph when a particular jigsaw puzzle of conflicting information pieced together to make a seamless whole.
To aid her in her work, the Ghost taught her how to read and write. He taught her how to defend herself with fist, dagger, hand and foot. As she grew in stature and age, the time she spent with the Ghost increased more and more. It took two and a half years to find out the name he wore beneath the title: Lorr. A secret for a secret she’d got; to save her embarrassment, to save any awkwardness. He’d discovered she was a girl, her monthly blood too hard a secret to hide from such an attentive Master. He’d known all along, he claimed, citing it and his curiosity as reasons for saving her from the morgue those years past. By the way, he’d added. You’re not too tall, and you’re not too old, and you’re not too ugly.
His name was Lorr. It took another year before she let him meet Amber, and another six months before their relationship progressed to further exploration. For a time, this rendered them content, and Jai’s training continued.
Lorr, she learned, did a lot of work for the higher echelon of Tyrol’s population. The day-to-day management of the underground did not take all of his time, and he was not built to sit atop a decaying chair and deal out mandates. Unfortunately the chair was not a choice one took. One earned the position by reputation and experience, and one only relinquished the chair in death. If Jai had a mind for it, Ghost would gradually let her deal with the day to day running of things so that he could concentrate further on his projects in the world above. It wasn’t a daunting prospect: barring the actual decision making, she’d been working with him for a goodly period when hashing out information. At a mature 20 years of age, it was a small enough step to take, and Jai was ambitious. From then onwards she was known as Ghost’s right hand man.
Over the next span of years, the duo worked well. Jai’s homespun name was eventually replaced on the street by one her reputation and habits created. She liked Silence, reveled in it. She exulted in the whispers that a blanket of silence could expose, loved the way that Silence could be used to incite guided, chosen reactions. Silence was joyful, Silence was strong, Silence was tragic, it was fearful. That with the experience she’d gained in being unseen and unheard in her years of gathering and selling information put together a tidy packet for her to use when moving forward. What she didn’t realize was that Ghost was training her to be his replacement in more things than just administration.
It is often said that fateful events travel in packs of three. Cherry had died, ejecting Jai from the chrysalis of hearth and home; Madon had died, elevating Jai’s prospects from nil to go. In the summer of Jai’s twenty fourth year, Ghost perished. Poisoned, he died in the comfort of his bed, surviving just long enough to pass Jai the names of his most frequent employers. She could introduce herself and take over, he said. She was ready.
It took several weeks for Jai to recover enough to fully function. Never the emotional sort, she distracted herself by taking on the job of holding together Ghost’s criminal territory. The usual way of things was that he who killed the king took the throne, but Jai wasn’t about to let the hard work they’d put in go to waste. To all intents and purposes, Silence was male. He’d been the Ghost’s right hand, and now he would be the left as well. It took a few vicious fights, a few ruthless, murderous decisions, and lots of hard-eyed staring, but eventually the field was conceded. The objections, the street said, had been Silenced.
Since then, Silence has been reigning with calculated caution in his quadrant of the city. With Ghost gone, Jai knew it would be far too risky to allow anyone so close into her confidences. Her gender would forever get in the way should it become knowledge. Her business face became her common face, and without any need to use the emotions which had proved so torturous and grieving in the past, they atrophied, leaving the new Boss with very little in the way of compassion. Between her duties as crime boss and her regular contracts among the City Elite, she never lacks things to keep her challenged. She uses the currency of Belief to maintain her grip on her employees and stakeholders, to maintain the fiction of her masculinity, and to promote the idea that the shadows provide a method for Silence to hear and see whatever and wherever he wants. It hasn’t yet worked to the point where Jai can use the shadows in such a fashion, but she periodically tests the water in the hope that one day the myth will become reality. Silence is everywhere.
Personality:
By experience and necessity, Jai keeps her counsel close. She is clipped, curt, and some would say blunt to the point of rudeness. She does not suffer fools or ignorance gladly, and her sarcasm is dry as bone. It takes a lot to faze her and a lot more to make it show. Aware that she has two ears and one mouth, Jai refuses to waste words, preferring to be thought of as slow to consider than rash and foolhardy in speech. However when it comes to action, she thinks quickly and responds decisively. She enjoys the challenge of turning around a disadvantage to enable a later win, and is fond of losing a battle to win a war. Despite her financial motivation, Jai is a loyal beast. Once bought, she stays bought until the job or the period of time paid for are complete.
It is safe to say that Jai is unhealthily sexist - against her own gender. She views most women as inferior beings who belong in convents, kitchens or brothels, and unfortunately makes life hard for any female who comes under her purview. In truth, she fears women. Their common grasp of emotion unsettles her, and she’s more highly paranoid in their presence that they will discover her true gender. She fears emotion, and would rather appear a heartless automaton than risk revealing weakness at the wrong time. She is unlikely to become embroiled in any argument or take sides, preferring to wait until the chips have come down on one side or the other. Jai will be on the winning side in the end, whichever one it is.
Personality Keywords: Ruthless, efficient, reliable, loyal, curious, nosy, impatient, thrillseeker.
Appearance:
Jai is tall, especially so for a woman. Her features are strong and masculine, an effect she has striven to enhance throughout the last ten years, and one that becomes more and more apparent as Belief of her masculinity spreads throughout the City. Her hair is hacked short and left its original black. Her shoulders are at once slender and broad, giving the impression of square strength when viewed through layers of clothing. She is wire thin and tightly muscled, with swarthy skin, dark-eyes and impassive by default, rarely letting any part of either thought or emotion pass across her face. For a man, of course, her voice is light, but years of practice and exposure has perfected the gruff, rough tenor that convinces her lackeys that she remains a worthy boss. Her clothing is limited to no-nonsense leather armour, its innards coated with chemicals to render it strong. It is invariably dark grey or black, and when she is sleuthing the streets, she covers herself with a cloak, her lower face covered with a mask. Due to the worlds she sifts between, she has trained her accent to where she can ‘belong’ in any social circle.
Languages Known: English, has picked up fragments of French, Spanish and German to communicate with clients, but is far from fluent.
Skills: Logic, knife fighting, sleight of hand, methods of assassination, infiltration and spy work
Strengths: Thinks and reacts quickly, extremely good at moving about unseen and unheard.
Weaknesses: Biased against women, fear of commitment and emotion, ugly social skills, finds it very difficult to empathise or sympathise, has no maternal instinct, is more confused about gender the more Belief affects her situation. She is claustrophobic, she cannot swim and fears large stretches of deep or moving water. She fears loss of control of any kind. Curiosity is a major weak point - she cannot leave a stone unturned for wishing to know what lies beneath. If there is an alleyway with an intriguing light at the other end, Jai will be the one to investigate first.
Timeline:
Bulletpoint Timeline:
Amber - Brothel brat.
Jai - leaves home @ 14
Jai - Apprenticeship with Madon 14-16
Jai- Ghost Whisper Nose / Apprentice - 16-20
Jai/Silence - Ghost's Right Hand - 20-24
Silence - Replaces Ghost as leader of Whispers & City Assassin, 24-present.