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Zoe Fletcher
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18
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6'0"
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150 lbs
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Tall, lean and muscular, Zoe's appearance gives off what can only be described as a predatory vibe. She has the air and manner of someone used to fending to themselves, and an expression often firmly fixed into a confident smirk. There is an air of arrogance about her, not least because of the way she carries herself and her relaxed, lazy stride. She seems to have been in more than a few scraps, which is obvious if you take a closer look - small scars litter her body, and are especially visible on her knuckles. Her usual clothing is generally fairly muted and not designed to draw attention.
For the observant, it's apparent that her arrogance isn't quite all that it seems. While she puts on an admirable front, rings under her eyes, ragged nails and the way her eyes dart around as though waiting for an attack all speak to the insecurity and self-loathing that she tries to hide. All in all, her appearance is that of someone confident on the surface, but to the exceptionally observant it may seem she's struggling to hold it together.
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Zoe is the kind of person that comes off as a born warrior or an arrogant ass, depending on who you ask. An adrenaline junkie of the highest degree, if there's a fight going on then she'll do her best to be involved - and if there isn't, she'll more than likely make someone angry enough to start one. Despite her aggressive tendencies, she doesn't actively try to start fights despite often being involved. It just happens that a lot of people want to wipe the smirk off of her face, and that she's very easy to make angry. She's not sadistic, or lacking empathy for others or anything like that, but definitely volatile and easily provoked - something which has gotten far worse since she gained the 'X' on her throat.
Of course, like most people, she does have at least some redeeming qualities. For one, she's incredibly trustworthy, and will take a secret to the grave if she's trusted with it. She's also endlessly loyal, and looks out for people weaker than herself as best she can - a softer side which she endlessly denies. Beyond that, she's happy to put herself on the line to protect people who need it. Swift to become attached to anyone who sees past her attitude, it's almost strange how someone so starved of affection tries so hard to push other people away. She seems afraid of letting anyone get close in case she loses them, but being called out on this is a real sore spot for her, and there's no doubt that anyone doing so will find themselves on the receiving end of an attempted assault.
While her harsh manner extends to friends as well as enemies, there is certainly a difference between the two. Towards people she dislikes, her remarks aim to be as cutting as possible, and she will make no secret of the fact that she hates someone's guts. Even if she thinks they're right, she'll be as pigheaded and obstinate as possible just to avoid agreeing with them. Towards her friends, it's something closer to playing devil's advocate for whatever plans or concerns they may have rather than outright malice. Generally, her hatred is reserved for people who allow their power to consume them, or who harm indiscriminately without regret, an urge at least partially seeded in self-loathing and how she struggles against the effects of her own stigma.
One thing that she hates is when people she trusts lie or manipulate her, especially if it's 'for her own good'. As far as she's concerned, anything that's for her own good is something she can be told about. When she's particularly angry or upset, she has a habit of going incredibly quiet for a while before reacting, although her reactions will remain characteristically volatile. She has difficulty mustering the strength to keep control and master the urges brought on by her stigma, and it's a struggle she fails more often than not.
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Zoe rushed into the hospital, a look in her eyes like a cornered animal. In her arms, there was a small body bundled in cloth, unmoving. Desperation filled her voice as she stood in the waiting room, the cross on her throat clear to see. "Help! Please, you have to-" her voice broke, taking on a horrified note. "I couldn't stop myself."
After the bundle was taken from her, she knew what would happen if she stayed. Knew there was no way life would be the same. But despite that, her feet refused to move - and it wasn't long before they came to pick her up. She didn't resist, and soon enough found herself at USARILN East.
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Reassemble
Allows her to decompose organic material after touching someone. The ability requires contact with a person to become active, but once she's made initial contact it works within a 10 meter radius of her. The ability's effects can be sped up if she focuses them into one area, roughly the size of her hand. Initially all that her targets feel would be an unusual itch, but if they allow it to progress it will eventually become incredibly painful. Currently her ability is quite slow, acting at roughly the same rate as a severe case of necrotising fasciitis on full-body with targeted attacks somewhat faster, and she is limited to only affecting things she can see.
The ability's use is indicated by black veins appearing on whatever she made contact with, and wisp-like flecks of black dust appearing around her.
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The sun shines down on her face, standing in the middle of a remote village. Around her, ramshackle huts give way to homes of her own making, comfortable and safe. In the background, she can hear people laughing and imagine the smiles on their faces. They don't need to want for anything, to wish for anything, because she's created for them everything they need.
It's a paradise, but not one for her. She moves on, her job completed and another utopia created. Wherever she goes, she is celebrated for her actions, praised and loved. She's worth something, to so many people, but as she looks out upon the village as they celebrate without even noticing her departure, there's one thing that remains clear to her - she is completely alone.
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"You can protect them."
A whimper echoes through the narrow street. Wordless desperation, from a man who long since lost the ability to beg for mercy. She's never seen his face before, but she despises him - despises his kind, who act from nothing but selfishness and greed. Justice, for all that ever wronged her, all who ever sought to do no more than hurt. As she grips his face in her hands, she smiles, and moments later not an inch of flesh remains on his skull. The sight is, in a word, horrifying.
Letting go, behind him she sees the face of a child a few years younger than she is, smiling brightly and seemingly unaware of the bloodshed surrounding them.
"Is he gone?"
"I got rid of him."
As Zoe speaks, her eyes scan the ground behind them - a graveyard of mutilated, unburied corpses. Despite this, she speaks with grim certainty, a cold satisfaction. She has the power to ensure a perfect life, for her and the ones she cares about, to destroy anybody who would harm them. To ensure the happiness of everyone that matters.
"No one will ever hurt you again."
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Aberration
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Zoe's stigma manifests itself in what is essentially a feeling of bloodlust, an urge to hurt and harm other people. An intense compulsion telling her that giving in would make her happy constantly demands she give in. The more she cares about someone, the more it makes her want to hurt them - and whenever she gives in to the compulsion, the memory replays again and again, accompanied by a rush of joy.
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xxx
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To be found when I get to an actual computer.