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A P P L I C A T I O N ataraxites
PLAYER INFORMATION
Your Name: Vee
OOC Journal: blizzardseason
Under 18? If yes, what is your age?: 21
Email + IM: PM
Characters Played at Ataraxion: N/A
CHARACTER INFORMATION
Name: Zinc
Canon: Original
Original or Alternate Universe: N/A
Canon Point: Post-death, infection
Number: 101
Setting:
Rape; Abuse; Necrophilia; In an age when reanimation is a disease easily inoculated against, there are the zombie joytoys. A route taken by illegal sex traffickers to loophole their way out of human rights violations as well as prostitution and necrophilia laws, though the issues of kidnapping remained and there were new calls to prosecute on murder charges. The trade, however, remains undisturbed. The zombies are easy to clean and to ship overseas and they don't get pregnant. The process is quite simple: like everyone ever kidnapped and forced into the sex trade, the toys are taken from their former lives, infected, beaten, raped, and starved until they get the idea. Only their pimp offers them solace and food, and even simple-minded zombies can develop Stockholm Syndrome.
Initial moral outrage saw many governments rising up to take the trafficking rings down, but the various joytoy gangs armored themselves in kind, not only with semi-automatic weapons but also with various agents of biological warfare, including high dose strains of the reanimation virus. Forced to take further civilian casualty into account, the War Against Reanimation became a detente, politicians forced to turn a blind eye to much of the activity. One tactic that has done well is to take warrants for contraband and catch shipments of joytoys at the docks, arresting gang members and putting the reanimated down for good.
No longer citizens at all and often transported from slums and developing nations, the joytoys who do continue in the trade live like a second class. Found in every major city around the world, the joytoy institution is firmly rooted into society. The toys have been trained for one thing and one thing only. Much like fighting dogs, there isn't much hope for them beyond a final rest.
History:
Statutory; Violence; Character Death;Carla Marianna Morir is the youngest daughter of a rich yuppie family. The baby of the family and spoiled rotten, this was really just a recipe for disaster. The problem with little Carla is the fact that, as you will read in great detail in her personality, she's a dreadful little sociopath. Cruel to her brothers, the maids and nannies, her peers, and her pets, Carla was a pain in the ass as a kid. However, her parents took this to mean she was just a bit rebellious and that she would learn better.
She did, in some ways.
What Carla learned was that if she was just a bit quieter about her mischief and mayhem, it was a lot easier to get away with without interruption. By twelve, she grew tired of the mundane sort of trouble she could get up to in her school and her community. She felt she was more intelligent than the adults around her, and that they offered no real challenge to manipulate. So she began looking into the affairs of outside groups. At a very boring socialite party, she heard another woman talking to her mother about her troubled son and how difficult he was to manage.
Isaac Crew was a bit older than Carla herself and had been arrested several times now. Isaac didn't learn as quickly as Carla did, it seemed, and chose to flaunt about his egotistical disregard for authority and his wealth in the most obnoxious ways possible. His father kept him out of juvie, but it seemed he was quite the embarrassment to the family. When asked by her concerned and insufferably nosy mother, Carla agreed to have 'play dates' with Isaac and keep him out of trouble.
It was through Isaac that Carla began to experience a 'party scene' for the first time. She quickly discovered that he did not like drugs or alcohol, and learned much too early how much she enjoyed sex. Through mimicking those around her, Carla had no trouble fitting in.
Her first piece of true forgery was a fake ID, something she easily could have just bought, but the project interested her. She went through several versions, but her need for perfection drove her to look into more and more sophisticated methods. Indulged in everything, her parents saw no problem with the strange equipment she purchased, especially not when she made a series of very nice business cards for her father as a cover for her other interests. It was good practice, besides.
Carla continued to use Isaac Crew as a cover as well. Mrs. Crew was pleased her son hadn't been arrested again since Carla 'befriended' him. Isaac himself was under the impression that the younger girl was a good friend of his, which was very unfortunate and very untrue. They were not friends in Carla's eyes, Isaac was merely useful. Especially because, as Isaac got older, he involved himself with higher and higher circles of street and white collar crime. Carla encouraged this, of course, because while she enjoyed Isaac's partying lifestyle, she needed something more entertaining to do and fake IDs and check forgery were much too easy. She still needed the older Isaac to vouch for her, besides. Still in her early teens, Carla did not yet have the physical imposition to roll with the big dogs on her own, something which irritated her to no end.
Carla was sixteen when Isaac met Cotnari (aka Jansen Fields), a drug and art dealer/smuggler, as well as a silly pretentious artist himself. Isaac was obviously more interested in the cocaine, but Carla... liked the paintings. Cotnari was the first artist she ever adored, her first experience into anal sex which would blossom into a full-blooded willingness to fuck anything, and was also the first person to give Carla some direction for those clever hands of hers. Carla began to forge paintings at Cotnari's direction.
Since she no longer needed Isaac, Carla was quick to get rid of him, turning him over to the police. Considering Isaac had escape jailtime for his more pedestrian crimes, such as embezzlement and drug trafficking previously, Carla was sure to add in something a bit more sticking this time. Child-molestation was really a very difficult charge for daddy to buy him out of. Even if those particular charges were proved false, the damage would be done. No longer a minor and offered no plea bargain, Isaac went away to jail.
Carla and Cotnari parted ways much more amiably when Carla turned eighteen and was to be sent away for college. The Morirs were paying for one of those lovely Ivy League schools, and Carla shipped off dutifully. However, upon arriving on the campus all she did was go to parties and fuck drunken freshman. Nothing about university interested her. She wanted to go back to Cotnari and resume her work, but decided she'd try something new on her own first.
She tried several different projects that failed to really amuse her, although she would not call her time spent learning about the university's servers wasted. She was looking for something a bit more lasting, and after incidentally encountering some information about the treasury department, she began to reverse engineer currency via intaglio. If she were not such a savant in forgery, this would have been a maddening and impossible task. She would have given up, but instead the challenge completely consumed her.
After she sold her first printing plate, she left school and disappeared without a trace. Zinc appeared in her place, in a coastal town with three distinct gangs, each with a stake in weapons, drugs, and joytoys. Whites, Chinese, and Mexicans. Zinc happily began to learn the town, able to make her own introductions now that she wasn't a half-pint. She began her network and dealt equally with each of the gangs.
Things went exactly the way she wanted them to for about four years, she settled in comfortably, doing as much work as amused her, always researching better and better methods, always improving her already considerable innate skills. She also partied and fucked a lot, but maybe that went without saying.
She was twenty-three when Durban Poison took over the main gang in the city. The circumstances surrounding her ascension were bloody. She was the previous ganglord's woman, but after he'd caught the Reanimation virus and been put down, Durban took it upon herself to kill his successors in broad daylight. Durban's incredibly violent ways changed things in the city. Her racism making even more severe delineations in the city.
All Zinc really cared about was the fact that she refused to deal with her. Durban told her her work might be good enough for spics and dogs, but she wanted nothing to do with Zinc. Carla sneered and called her a trailer trash whore with delusions of grandeur. Durban Poison is a small woman. Zinc is not the first nor the last to mouth off to her thinking they could take her in a fight and she is always more than happy to prove them wrong. Durban broke Zinc’s jaw, but didn't kill her, which was more than a lot of people could say.
Durban changed a lot of things in the city. In order to keep business flowing the way Zinc was used to, she was forced to set up a third party to make deals with the gangs in her stead. In making these arrangements, she came across Barbet. A recent acquisition of Durban's, he became the caretaker to her joytoys. It was unheard of to waste resources maintaining joytoys, especially considering the high likelihood of the CDC putting down valuable merchandise at any time. However, Durban's reign of violence quickly had the CDC cowering in fear of large scale attacks against civilians. The gang had already been powerful in the city, but Durban made that shit iron clad.
Upon meeting Barbet, Zinc adored everything about him, instantly. He was brusque and aloof and he said the most ridiculous, pretentious things. He was also straight from France, which gave Zinc a new project in picking up a new language.
Things have been comfortable for Zinc since then, though not for the city in general. Tensions between the gangs are high. Durban is a reckless bitch, but unfortunately necessary. If she's taken out of the picture, the city will implode as every thug with a pair of fists tries to take a slice of her empire for themselves. Durban seems to have a death wish though, and this makes everyone uneasy. Zinc could really care less, she hopes the bitch rots in hell.
In fact, Zinc eventually lends a rather heavy hand in Durban’s inevitable death. She never kills anyone with her own hands, but there are plenty who wanted Durban dead and Zinc was more than happy to supply them with information and encourage them along. The problem with this was the fact that she was sticking her neck out to do it.
And there was someone who was very eager to sever her neck from her shoulders. Isaac Crew was on parole, although as soon as he was let out of jail he left the state and began searching for Carla Morir. He knew what her talents were, and he followed her counterfeits back to her city, and once in her city, used her most recent dealings in Durban Poison’s death to find her. As well as Barbet, who Isaac rather erroneously presumed to be Zinc’s lover. He shot her to death on the floor of Barbet’s studio and left the artist to clean up the mess.
So, he did. Rather than let such a beautiful face be wasted, Barbet subjected her to the Reanimation virus and plied his trade on her. She has been ‘living’ in his studio with him ever since.
Personality:
Necrophilia; Cannibalism; Zinc's previous personality can be found here. This is who she was when she was alive (she's a rule!63), but death and reanimation have had a very drastic effect on her. However, she still remembers her old life and experiences, so I thought it would be relevant to let you know what they were.
Anyway!☠ Emotion and Control. Zinc is a special case as a zombie. She was a special case as a human, as well, and there are certain facets of this which lend themselves to her zombie state! She has retained a great deal of her intellect, more than any other zombie and she can almost pass for human, at times and hold a conversation. There has been some mental deterioration, however. She was shot in the head, for one. The natural effects of the Reanimation virus have also affected her, introducing her to the chaotic world of instinct and base emotion. This was not the way Zinc’s mind worked previously. In her living term, she was a very calculating and unapologetic person with a methodical mind for detail. She had a photographic memory, was an immaculate mimic, and was untouched by the emotional spectrum. She did not exhibit shame, grief, anger, or love. In her mind there was only 'what she wanted' and 'what she did not want.'
Zinc hates these new emotional experiences that have been pushed on. They are messy and unnecessary and she tries to control them. Anger, especially, is her main focus for control. The prevalence of anger in her thoughts is really pretty frightening to her, because it is constantly threatening to overtake her. Zinc was always a very proud and ego-centric person who took pride in the gratification and preservation of the Self, losing herself to anger is one of the worst possible things she can imagine. The zombie’s inclination for instinct over reason is likewise troubling.
☠ Barbet. There is a secondary impetus to her attempts to remain in control and that is Barbet. She cared (very relative) for him before the virus, and she remembers that. She does not want to eat him, although if she gave in to her instincts, she would. The dynamic between them has changed drastically. She has gone from an independent woman who pursued him to be her lover and who admired his work… to his pet. She is dependent on him for everything from food to shelter, but at the same time it is only through him that she is able to retain what little mental independence she has from the virus. Barbet keeps her socialized, and as human as possible through contact and mental stimulation. He talks to her, while she keeps her mind active with the puzzles and games he brings for her, as well as trying to keep some modicum of dexterity through simple tasks like writing, shuffling cards, using forks, etc.
At the heart of this relationship though, Barbet is the provider of her food. She knows damn well that she could overpower him and eat him, but she lets him feed her. Food is her overriding goal, but she has enough of her own mind to value the humanity he also providers. The animal in her has a very distinct love for her provider, as well as a very distinct hatred and resentment towards him for caging her (both in his studio, as well as in her own rotting flesh.)
Barbet is not oblivious to this, and does not make the mistake of trusting her or thinking her truly tamed.
☠ Outside. Zinc extends this attempt at control to most other humans. She was raised in this world where disease is at the height of public consciousness and warily guarded against. She is not looking to infect others. The only ones who are not safe from her are a group of individuals known as ‘feeders’. Generally considered perverts and disdained, they are petty murderers who lure joytoys to them with the promise of food. They exchange the food for sex. It is dangerous to allow joytoys to realize they can get food from anywhere other than their pimp, and can often lead to unfortunate outbreaks of zombie attacks.
Zinc is not a joytoy, however. The toys are conditioned through starvation and repeated beatings and rapes. She is something else entirely, and she will sometimes allow a feeder to have sex with her in exchange for food. Sometimes they are the food. Barbet tells her, repeatedly, that this is not permissible, but she tends to ignore that. He does not let her out of the studio often, and when he does she gives herself carte blanche to do as she pleases.
☠ Joy and Sadness. Zinc does not get to interact much outside of Barbet, but she has taken on a rather stormy and volatile personality. She is not a happy creature, and it shows. The only things that she, as a zombie, really enjoys are acting on her instinctual prey-drive, and eating human flesh. She enjoys preying on the feeders, the sharper aspects of her old personality can be seen when she is on the hunt: her cunning and her intelligence.
As a kept animal (which dovetails with her human side) her greatest pleasure is Barbet’s attention. She takes some personal pride in succeeding at things, like completing a puzzle or a video game, but what she likes best is being pet--(like a dog, she resents it when she thinks about it like that, so she tries not to think about it, but avoiding thinking is a great way to let emotion take over)--and she enjoys it when he does his artistic maintenance work on her, to keep her looking pretty, rather than dead. Barbet pays her a great deal of attention in this regard, more than any of the joytoys he looks after, and she is always sure to be very well-behaved for it.
Zinc actually doesn’t think she’s all that attractive anymore, which is a very marked change from when she was alive. Her outward projection and confidence has been completely decimated. She feels less capable because of the deterioration of her mind and her body. Her talent, her strength, and her intelligence were far more prized to her than her face. Her unhappiness is very much affected by this sense of low self-esteem. What small amount of ego she has left is predicated on other’s (read: Barbet’s) acknowledgement of her.
When she feels ignored or forgotten, she is very prone to brooding, and her anger at her situation (for which Barbet is to blame) can begin to get the better of her. Her conflicted feelings for him only make the chaos of her emotions and the heaviness of her melancholy more confusing and unpleasant for her to deal with. She has been known to resort to self-harm in order to distract herself. She will begin mindless games of mumblety-peg that can quickly become very aggressive. She is, of course, dependent on Barbet to heal her wounds. She does not consciously acknowledge this as a way to garner attention, but it would be foolish to say she isn’t somewhat aware.
☠ Need. When Zinc was alive, she didn’t take much interest in others, but she recognizes very clearly that if she avoids socialization, she will lose herself. She can be very sullen, blunt, and a bit rude, but she’s also very vulnerable and her lack of self-esteem would see her (hated) fledgling emotions very easily hurt. She looks for acknowledgement and care in others and responds well to physical affection, is in fact very needy. She was once incredibly sexual, to the point of nymphomania, but now that she really has no sex drive at all, she really just enjoys being pet, and it soothes her anger more readily than anything else. She is easily frustrated by the things she can no longer do (because of her loss of motor skills and concentration) and she may not immediately show appreciation for help, but she will get around to it, in her own way.
Abilities, Weaknesses and Power Limitations: Zinc doesn't have any particular abilities in and of herself, but she is undead.
These happen to be plague/science zombies and the majority of the population is actually inoculated against the virus which creates them. However, this really just means that stronger and stronger strains of it keep appearing and the vaccinations do not protect against direct injections or bites in the first place. Different strains of the virus have produced subtly different zombies with variances in temperament and (retention of) intelligence. The gangs use a strain of the virus which is known for producing somewhat (that is incredibly relative) more docile zombies, so that they are receptive to the conditioning they receive when they are made into joytoys.
Zombies are effectively dead creatures. They have no body heat, no heart beat, and no cellular replenishment. They have some muscular control over their diaphragm/etc but if they were deprived of oxygen, nothing untoward would happen to them. Drowning is possible, more from filling themselves with water and sinking than from lack of air; they are very bad swimmers. Zombies are durable to the elements in that they will continue to function, but it will leave noticeable signs of wear on them that obviously cannot be healed (without the attention of a skilled caretaker.)
The mind of a zombie is a very base an animalistic place. They retain memories of their living/civilized lives, but feel no connection to them. There is a certain communal mentality to zombies, and while they do not live in packs nor go out of their way to help one another, they recognize their own and value them over humans. Their mode of communication between one another is silent, nigh on telepathic, and can be attributed to high awareness of body language. Zombies are driven by the singular lust to feed, and if left to their own devices, it’s really all they would do. Being very animal and so singularly driven, however, makes them reasonably simple to 'train' and manipulate as long as there is ‘food’ on the far end of their obedience.
Zombies are much stronger than humans, what they lack in refined motor skills they make up for in brute strength and berserker’s fury. Anger is a very potent emotion to a zombie, and is always bubbling just beneath the surface. When in a full rage they are incapable of feeling pain. One of the keys to training a zombie is to make sure it never ever realizes that it’s stronger than you. They are generally not very intelligent, the smartest of the average zombies cannot actually keep up a conversation, even if they are able to listen/comprehend and take instruction.
Zombies are all completely devoid of sexuality. They cannot feel pleasure, they do not crave or enjoy sex. Their only lust is to feed, and they do have a very intense and pleasurable reaction to feasting. My breed of zombie does not starve to death, but does become both weak and agitated if they don't get some kind of meat. Headshots are key.
Zinc is at odds with the animal aspects of herself, and fights as best she can against the deterioration of her mind. However, she can become very agitated in large groups of people, especially if they're excited or frightened. When she goes on a rampage, she can't control herself, she can't speak, nor can she feel pain.
The food question: Zinc does not have to feed on humans, she is fed raw meat by Barbet. This nourishes her body, but does not satisfy her hunger. Zinc is, however, used to being constantly hungry all the time and generally ignores it. It might be a nice plot point to eat someone, eventually, but she can survive in a game without it.
Inventory: N/A
Appearance: Her PB is Jacquelyn Jablonski
Age: 26 (and has been dead about six months)
AU Clarification:
SAMPLES
Log Sample: Log Tag @ QoHShe's woken up cold again. It's the usual occurrence, she is a corpse and when she sleeps her mind is empty and her body is dead, devoid of any movement. The cold is not unusual, but there is something disconcerting about the air here. It isn't the smells, the antiseptic cleanliness of medicine. She is familiar with that, has stood by Barbet as he worked often enough to be used to such things. She loves to watch him work, the strange mixture of artistry and doctoring that compromises all he does, his quick hands and genuine care. He does not show care so easily, something had not minded once upon a time, but now she craves tenderness, recognition rather than the rejection she is often faced with because of her cold hands. She does not like to think on it too closely, it fills her with a sense of shame and rage--(he claimed to think of her no differently than he had before, but it was a lie, a vicious lie which stung every time he said it, stung every time he pushed her seeking hands away from him, every time he stopped her leeching his warmth away.) She pushes the thoughts away, concentrates of this place instead, on the strange air here.
It's something different, a staleness, something old and recycled about the atmosphere. She can smell people, living people, and they are not scents she recognizes. They are not Barbet, who smells of paint and aching bones. They are not Facon who has a subtle perfume of citrus and gunpowder that Zinc had admired before her death, had licked off the woman's skin while murmuring encouragements: Don't be afraid. Fear is a wasted emotion. Durban's time is up. They've scorned you, show them their own folly.
She cannot smell Barbet at all, except for hints of him which linger in her own hair, on her own skin, and her throat feels tight.
"Barbet?" a brittle voice that turns to a startled grunt when she gets to her feet and realizes how dizzy she is. "Barbet?" a whimper then.
Who will care for her if he is not here?
Comms Sample: Post Tag @ QoH
PLAYER INFORMATION
Your Name: Vee
OOC Journal: blizzardseason
Under 18? If yes, what is your age?: 21
Email + IM: PM
Characters Played at Ataraxion: N/A
CHARACTER INFORMATION
Name: Zinc
Canon: Original
Original or Alternate Universe: N/A
Canon Point: Post-death, infection
Number: 101
Setting:
Rape; Abuse; Necrophilia; In an age when reanimation is a disease easily inoculated against, there are the zombie joytoys. A route taken by illegal sex traffickers to loophole their way out of human rights violations as well as prostitution and necrophilia laws, though the issues of kidnapping remained and there were new calls to prosecute on murder charges. The trade, however, remains undisturbed. The zombies are easy to clean and to ship overseas and they don't get pregnant. The process is quite simple: like everyone ever kidnapped and forced into the sex trade, the toys are taken from their former lives, infected, beaten, raped, and starved until they get the idea. Only their pimp offers them solace and food, and even simple-minded zombies can develop Stockholm Syndrome.
Initial moral outrage saw many governments rising up to take the trafficking rings down, but the various joytoy gangs armored themselves in kind, not only with semi-automatic weapons but also with various agents of biological warfare, including high dose strains of the reanimation virus. Forced to take further civilian casualty into account, the War Against Reanimation became a detente, politicians forced to turn a blind eye to much of the activity. One tactic that has done well is to take warrants for contraband and catch shipments of joytoys at the docks, arresting gang members and putting the reanimated down for good.
No longer citizens at all and often transported from slums and developing nations, the joytoys who do continue in the trade live like a second class. Found in every major city around the world, the joytoy institution is firmly rooted into society. The toys have been trained for one thing and one thing only. Much like fighting dogs, there isn't much hope for them beyond a final rest.
History:
Statutory; Violence; Character Death;Carla Marianna Morir is the youngest daughter of a rich yuppie family. The baby of the family and spoiled rotten, this was really just a recipe for disaster. The problem with little Carla is the fact that, as you will read in great detail in her personality, she's a dreadful little sociopath. Cruel to her brothers, the maids and nannies, her peers, and her pets, Carla was a pain in the ass as a kid. However, her parents took this to mean she was just a bit rebellious and that she would learn better.
She did, in some ways.
What Carla learned was that if she was just a bit quieter about her mischief and mayhem, it was a lot easier to get away with without interruption. By twelve, she grew tired of the mundane sort of trouble she could get up to in her school and her community. She felt she was more intelligent than the adults around her, and that they offered no real challenge to manipulate. So she began looking into the affairs of outside groups. At a very boring socialite party, she heard another woman talking to her mother about her troubled son and how difficult he was to manage.
Isaac Crew was a bit older than Carla herself and had been arrested several times now. Isaac didn't learn as quickly as Carla did, it seemed, and chose to flaunt about his egotistical disregard for authority and his wealth in the most obnoxious ways possible. His father kept him out of juvie, but it seemed he was quite the embarrassment to the family. When asked by her concerned and insufferably nosy mother, Carla agreed to have 'play dates' with Isaac and keep him out of trouble.
It was through Isaac that Carla began to experience a 'party scene' for the first time. She quickly discovered that he did not like drugs or alcohol, and learned much too early how much she enjoyed sex. Through mimicking those around her, Carla had no trouble fitting in.
Her first piece of true forgery was a fake ID, something she easily could have just bought, but the project interested her. She went through several versions, but her need for perfection drove her to look into more and more sophisticated methods. Indulged in everything, her parents saw no problem with the strange equipment she purchased, especially not when she made a series of very nice business cards for her father as a cover for her other interests. It was good practice, besides.
Carla continued to use Isaac Crew as a cover as well. Mrs. Crew was pleased her son hadn't been arrested again since Carla 'befriended' him. Isaac himself was under the impression that the younger girl was a good friend of his, which was very unfortunate and very untrue. They were not friends in Carla's eyes, Isaac was merely useful. Especially because, as Isaac got older, he involved himself with higher and higher circles of street and white collar crime. Carla encouraged this, of course, because while she enjoyed Isaac's partying lifestyle, she needed something more entertaining to do and fake IDs and check forgery were much too easy. She still needed the older Isaac to vouch for her, besides. Still in her early teens, Carla did not yet have the physical imposition to roll with the big dogs on her own, something which irritated her to no end.
Carla was sixteen when Isaac met Cotnari (aka Jansen Fields), a drug and art dealer/smuggler, as well as a silly pretentious artist himself. Isaac was obviously more interested in the cocaine, but Carla... liked the paintings. Cotnari was the first artist she ever adored, her first experience into anal sex which would blossom into a full-blooded willingness to fuck anything, and was also the first person to give Carla some direction for those clever hands of hers. Carla began to forge paintings at Cotnari's direction.
Since she no longer needed Isaac, Carla was quick to get rid of him, turning him over to the police. Considering Isaac had escape jailtime for his more pedestrian crimes, such as embezzlement and drug trafficking previously, Carla was sure to add in something a bit more sticking this time. Child-molestation was really a very difficult charge for daddy to buy him out of. Even if those particular charges were proved false, the damage would be done. No longer a minor and offered no plea bargain, Isaac went away to jail.
Carla and Cotnari parted ways much more amiably when Carla turned eighteen and was to be sent away for college. The Morirs were paying for one of those lovely Ivy League schools, and Carla shipped off dutifully. However, upon arriving on the campus all she did was go to parties and fuck drunken freshman. Nothing about university interested her. She wanted to go back to Cotnari and resume her work, but decided she'd try something new on her own first.
She tried several different projects that failed to really amuse her, although she would not call her time spent learning about the university's servers wasted. She was looking for something a bit more lasting, and after incidentally encountering some information about the treasury department, she began to reverse engineer currency via intaglio. If she were not such a savant in forgery, this would have been a maddening and impossible task. She would have given up, but instead the challenge completely consumed her.
After she sold her first printing plate, she left school and disappeared without a trace. Zinc appeared in her place, in a coastal town with three distinct gangs, each with a stake in weapons, drugs, and joytoys. Whites, Chinese, and Mexicans. Zinc happily began to learn the town, able to make her own introductions now that she wasn't a half-pint. She began her network and dealt equally with each of the gangs.
Things went exactly the way she wanted them to for about four years, she settled in comfortably, doing as much work as amused her, always researching better and better methods, always improving her already considerable innate skills. She also partied and fucked a lot, but maybe that went without saying.
She was twenty-three when Durban Poison took over the main gang in the city. The circumstances surrounding her ascension were bloody. She was the previous ganglord's woman, but after he'd caught the Reanimation virus and been put down, Durban took it upon herself to kill his successors in broad daylight. Durban's incredibly violent ways changed things in the city. Her racism making even more severe delineations in the city.
All Zinc really cared about was the fact that she refused to deal with her. Durban told her her work might be good enough for spics and dogs, but she wanted nothing to do with Zinc. Carla sneered and called her a trailer trash whore with delusions of grandeur. Durban Poison is a small woman. Zinc is not the first nor the last to mouth off to her thinking they could take her in a fight and she is always more than happy to prove them wrong. Durban broke Zinc’s jaw, but didn't kill her, which was more than a lot of people could say.
Durban changed a lot of things in the city. In order to keep business flowing the way Zinc was used to, she was forced to set up a third party to make deals with the gangs in her stead. In making these arrangements, she came across Barbet. A recent acquisition of Durban's, he became the caretaker to her joytoys. It was unheard of to waste resources maintaining joytoys, especially considering the high likelihood of the CDC putting down valuable merchandise at any time. However, Durban's reign of violence quickly had the CDC cowering in fear of large scale attacks against civilians. The gang had already been powerful in the city, but Durban made that shit iron clad.
Upon meeting Barbet, Zinc adored everything about him, instantly. He was brusque and aloof and he said the most ridiculous, pretentious things. He was also straight from France, which gave Zinc a new project in picking up a new language.
Things have been comfortable for Zinc since then, though not for the city in general. Tensions between the gangs are high. Durban is a reckless bitch, but unfortunately necessary. If she's taken out of the picture, the city will implode as every thug with a pair of fists tries to take a slice of her empire for themselves. Durban seems to have a death wish though, and this makes everyone uneasy. Zinc could really care less, she hopes the bitch rots in hell.
In fact, Zinc eventually lends a rather heavy hand in Durban’s inevitable death. She never kills anyone with her own hands, but there are plenty who wanted Durban dead and Zinc was more than happy to supply them with information and encourage them along. The problem with this was the fact that she was sticking her neck out to do it.
And there was someone who was very eager to sever her neck from her shoulders. Isaac Crew was on parole, although as soon as he was let out of jail he left the state and began searching for Carla Morir. He knew what her talents were, and he followed her counterfeits back to her city, and once in her city, used her most recent dealings in Durban Poison’s death to find her. As well as Barbet, who Isaac rather erroneously presumed to be Zinc’s lover. He shot her to death on the floor of Barbet’s studio and left the artist to clean up the mess.
So, he did. Rather than let such a beautiful face be wasted, Barbet subjected her to the Reanimation virus and plied his trade on her. She has been ‘living’ in his studio with him ever since.
Personality:
Necrophilia; Cannibalism; Zinc's previous personality can be found here. This is who she was when she was alive (she's a rule!63), but death and reanimation have had a very drastic effect on her. However, she still remembers her old life and experiences, so I thought it would be relevant to let you know what they were.
Anyway!☠ Emotion and Control. Zinc is a special case as a zombie. She was a special case as a human, as well, and there are certain facets of this which lend themselves to her zombie state! She has retained a great deal of her intellect, more than any other zombie and she can almost pass for human, at times and hold a conversation. There has been some mental deterioration, however. She was shot in the head, for one. The natural effects of the Reanimation virus have also affected her, introducing her to the chaotic world of instinct and base emotion. This was not the way Zinc’s mind worked previously. In her living term, she was a very calculating and unapologetic person with a methodical mind for detail. She had a photographic memory, was an immaculate mimic, and was untouched by the emotional spectrum. She did not exhibit shame, grief, anger, or love. In her mind there was only 'what she wanted' and 'what she did not want.'
Zinc hates these new emotional experiences that have been pushed on. They are messy and unnecessary and she tries to control them. Anger, especially, is her main focus for control. The prevalence of anger in her thoughts is really pretty frightening to her, because it is constantly threatening to overtake her. Zinc was always a very proud and ego-centric person who took pride in the gratification and preservation of the Self, losing herself to anger is one of the worst possible things she can imagine. The zombie’s inclination for instinct over reason is likewise troubling.
☠ Barbet. There is a secondary impetus to her attempts to remain in control and that is Barbet. She cared (very relative) for him before the virus, and she remembers that. She does not want to eat him, although if she gave in to her instincts, she would. The dynamic between them has changed drastically. She has gone from an independent woman who pursued him to be her lover and who admired his work… to his pet. She is dependent on him for everything from food to shelter, but at the same time it is only through him that she is able to retain what little mental independence she has from the virus. Barbet keeps her socialized, and as human as possible through contact and mental stimulation. He talks to her, while she keeps her mind active with the puzzles and games he brings for her, as well as trying to keep some modicum of dexterity through simple tasks like writing, shuffling cards, using forks, etc.
At the heart of this relationship though, Barbet is the provider of her food. She knows damn well that she could overpower him and eat him, but she lets him feed her. Food is her overriding goal, but she has enough of her own mind to value the humanity he also providers. The animal in her has a very distinct love for her provider, as well as a very distinct hatred and resentment towards him for caging her (both in his studio, as well as in her own rotting flesh.)
Barbet is not oblivious to this, and does not make the mistake of trusting her or thinking her truly tamed.
☠ Outside. Zinc extends this attempt at control to most other humans. She was raised in this world where disease is at the height of public consciousness and warily guarded against. She is not looking to infect others. The only ones who are not safe from her are a group of individuals known as ‘feeders’. Generally considered perverts and disdained, they are petty murderers who lure joytoys to them with the promise of food. They exchange the food for sex. It is dangerous to allow joytoys to realize they can get food from anywhere other than their pimp, and can often lead to unfortunate outbreaks of zombie attacks.
Zinc is not a joytoy, however. The toys are conditioned through starvation and repeated beatings and rapes. She is something else entirely, and she will sometimes allow a feeder to have sex with her in exchange for food. Sometimes they are the food. Barbet tells her, repeatedly, that this is not permissible, but she tends to ignore that. He does not let her out of the studio often, and when he does she gives herself carte blanche to do as she pleases.
☠ Joy and Sadness. Zinc does not get to interact much outside of Barbet, but she has taken on a rather stormy and volatile personality. She is not a happy creature, and it shows. The only things that she, as a zombie, really enjoys are acting on her instinctual prey-drive, and eating human flesh. She enjoys preying on the feeders, the sharper aspects of her old personality can be seen when she is on the hunt: her cunning and her intelligence.
As a kept animal (which dovetails with her human side) her greatest pleasure is Barbet’s attention. She takes some personal pride in succeeding at things, like completing a puzzle or a video game, but what she likes best is being pet--(like a dog, she resents it when she thinks about it like that, so she tries not to think about it, but avoiding thinking is a great way to let emotion take over)--and she enjoys it when he does his artistic maintenance work on her, to keep her looking pretty, rather than dead. Barbet pays her a great deal of attention in this regard, more than any of the joytoys he looks after, and she is always sure to be very well-behaved for it.
Zinc actually doesn’t think she’s all that attractive anymore, which is a very marked change from when she was alive. Her outward projection and confidence has been completely decimated. She feels less capable because of the deterioration of her mind and her body. Her talent, her strength, and her intelligence were far more prized to her than her face. Her unhappiness is very much affected by this sense of low self-esteem. What small amount of ego she has left is predicated on other’s (read: Barbet’s) acknowledgement of her.
When she feels ignored or forgotten, she is very prone to brooding, and her anger at her situation (for which Barbet is to blame) can begin to get the better of her. Her conflicted feelings for him only make the chaos of her emotions and the heaviness of her melancholy more confusing and unpleasant for her to deal with. She has been known to resort to self-harm in order to distract herself. She will begin mindless games of mumblety-peg that can quickly become very aggressive. She is, of course, dependent on Barbet to heal her wounds. She does not consciously acknowledge this as a way to garner attention, but it would be foolish to say she isn’t somewhat aware.
☠ Need. When Zinc was alive, she didn’t take much interest in others, but she recognizes very clearly that if she avoids socialization, she will lose herself. She can be very sullen, blunt, and a bit rude, but she’s also very vulnerable and her lack of self-esteem would see her (hated) fledgling emotions very easily hurt. She looks for acknowledgement and care in others and responds well to physical affection, is in fact very needy. She was once incredibly sexual, to the point of nymphomania, but now that she really has no sex drive at all, she really just enjoys being pet, and it soothes her anger more readily than anything else. She is easily frustrated by the things she can no longer do (because of her loss of motor skills and concentration) and she may not immediately show appreciation for help, but she will get around to it, in her own way.
Abilities, Weaknesses and Power Limitations: Zinc doesn't have any particular abilities in and of herself, but she is undead.
These happen to be plague/science zombies and the majority of the population is actually inoculated against the virus which creates them. However, this really just means that stronger and stronger strains of it keep appearing and the vaccinations do not protect against direct injections or bites in the first place. Different strains of the virus have produced subtly different zombies with variances in temperament and (retention of) intelligence. The gangs use a strain of the virus which is known for producing somewhat (that is incredibly relative) more docile zombies, so that they are receptive to the conditioning they receive when they are made into joytoys.
Zombies are effectively dead creatures. They have no body heat, no heart beat, and no cellular replenishment. They have some muscular control over their diaphragm/etc but if they were deprived of oxygen, nothing untoward would happen to them. Drowning is possible, more from filling themselves with water and sinking than from lack of air; they are very bad swimmers. Zombies are durable to the elements in that they will continue to function, but it will leave noticeable signs of wear on them that obviously cannot be healed (without the attention of a skilled caretaker.)
The mind of a zombie is a very base an animalistic place. They retain memories of their living/civilized lives, but feel no connection to them. There is a certain communal mentality to zombies, and while they do not live in packs nor go out of their way to help one another, they recognize their own and value them over humans. Their mode of communication between one another is silent, nigh on telepathic, and can be attributed to high awareness of body language. Zombies are driven by the singular lust to feed, and if left to their own devices, it’s really all they would do. Being very animal and so singularly driven, however, makes them reasonably simple to 'train' and manipulate as long as there is ‘food’ on the far end of their obedience.
Zombies are much stronger than humans, what they lack in refined motor skills they make up for in brute strength and berserker’s fury. Anger is a very potent emotion to a zombie, and is always bubbling just beneath the surface. When in a full rage they are incapable of feeling pain. One of the keys to training a zombie is to make sure it never ever realizes that it’s stronger than you. They are generally not very intelligent, the smartest of the average zombies cannot actually keep up a conversation, even if they are able to listen/comprehend and take instruction.
Zombies are all completely devoid of sexuality. They cannot feel pleasure, they do not crave or enjoy sex. Their only lust is to feed, and they do have a very intense and pleasurable reaction to feasting. My breed of zombie does not starve to death, but does become both weak and agitated if they don't get some kind of meat. Headshots are key.
Zinc is at odds with the animal aspects of herself, and fights as best she can against the deterioration of her mind. However, she can become very agitated in large groups of people, especially if they're excited or frightened. When she goes on a rampage, she can't control herself, she can't speak, nor can she feel pain.
The food question: Zinc does not have to feed on humans, she is fed raw meat by Barbet. This nourishes her body, but does not satisfy her hunger. Zinc is, however, used to being constantly hungry all the time and generally ignores it. It might be a nice plot point to eat someone, eventually, but she can survive in a game without it.
Inventory: N/A
Appearance: Her PB is Jacquelyn Jablonski
Age: 26 (and has been dead about six months)
AU Clarification:
SAMPLES
Log Sample: Log Tag @ QoHShe's woken up cold again. It's the usual occurrence, she is a corpse and when she sleeps her mind is empty and her body is dead, devoid of any movement. The cold is not unusual, but there is something disconcerting about the air here. It isn't the smells, the antiseptic cleanliness of medicine. She is familiar with that, has stood by Barbet as he worked often enough to be used to such things. She loves to watch him work, the strange mixture of artistry and doctoring that compromises all he does, his quick hands and genuine care. He does not show care so easily, something had not minded once upon a time, but now she craves tenderness, recognition rather than the rejection she is often faced with because of her cold hands. She does not like to think on it too closely, it fills her with a sense of shame and rage--(he claimed to think of her no differently than he had before, but it was a lie, a vicious lie which stung every time he said it, stung every time he pushed her seeking hands away from him, every time he stopped her leeching his warmth away.) She pushes the thoughts away, concentrates of this place instead, on the strange air here.
It's something different, a staleness, something old and recycled about the atmosphere. She can smell people, living people, and they are not scents she recognizes. They are not Barbet, who smells of paint and aching bones. They are not Facon who has a subtle perfume of citrus and gunpowder that Zinc had admired before her death, had licked off the woman's skin while murmuring encouragements: Don't be afraid. Fear is a wasted emotion. Durban's time is up. They've scorned you, show them their own folly.
She cannot smell Barbet at all, except for hints of him which linger in her own hair, on her own skin, and her throat feels tight.
"Barbet?" a brittle voice that turns to a startled grunt when she gets to her feet and realizes how dizzy she is. "Barbet?" a whimper then.
Who will care for her if he is not here?
Comms Sample: Post Tag @ QoH