Name: Sarah Duncan
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Disposition: Sunny...Really sunny. Teetering on insanity this woman is a grade A lunatic. Her joy in damn near everything is annoyingly infectious. Joy in battle, joy in victory, joy in defeat. She is the kind of person who seems to have luck tattooed to her ass. Something she was told so often she actually got it tattooed there. Along with the rear end of her frame. Rarely taking things seriously she is a bit of a loose cannon. However an effective one at that. Almost always willing to go on a suicide mission. It means little to her the risks involved she'll do it. Money isn't what she seeks, it's the thrill, Thanatos. Born from years of cybernetic testing. She is a hardcore smoker. One of the few luxuries her social position grants her, it is also one of the only times a non factitious reply will leave her lips
Background: Born in the OSU to the great-great-grandson of one of the most respected engineers in the country Valantino Duncan. His company had for the last couple hundred years produced the best engineers for the motherland making everything from weapons to toys. This didn't last long once the Socialists rose to power and his company was absorbed into the party machinery, a corporation in name only. She should have lived a comfortable life. However hostile takeovers are a little more than minor nuisances when compared to the regular cleansing in the party. Especially with the heat against the Sodroyan League, her father's father having lost his position, his son only rose so far in the incredibly plutocratic nepotist government. Her mother having died in a raid in their country house by the league. Daddy began to get more and more consumed in his work especially within the fields of Cybernetics. His mind having been torn by the loss of his wife he began testing on her at an early age hoping to use her to get revenge for his wife. Using prototypes and brutal means of testing, she's not sure how much of herself is even left. Her mind was tortured every day of her memorable childhood as the OSU sought to catch up in the arms race. The poor girls ears were ripped out at the age of 10 to be replaced with a new model of acoustic drums. It was painful bloody and hard to get used to but she managed. Human guinea pigs were not off the table, she has many scars from the surgeries she was subjected too. The worst being the fractal scars going along the sides of her eyes when her eyes were gouged out by a rather sadistic test of loyalty. Just another ruse to be used against her to test the latest in OSU optics. Her eyes look real, but are as far from real as they can get. Her mind was addled with constant doublethink to the point where her mind finally accepted it. By means of being happy, extraordinarily happy with whatever the situation was, it was truly irrelevant to her what the situation was. Having finally seen through the cloud of rubbish propaganda she finally snaps, snaps, and snaps her way through neck after neck trying to get out the facility. Getting out and being penniless she makes her way through the underworld before finding a contact who can put her name out their to mercenary groups who might be able to pay her way out the OSU. Working for rather piss all money before proving skill with a FRAME, that she already had. Just not the funds to acquire one. Eventually a friend she made during her work put her in contact with the panthers leader, which is where you find her today.
Appearance:
bar fractal scarring around the eyes, red pupils and a rather garish protrusion from the back of her neck, used for uploading information from her eyes and ears.
Waking up from her long, long sleep. She found herself quite crippled, it must have been quite the amusing sight to her coworkers. At least the ones who knew her. Sarah having managed to burst her wounds on the information she was given by Marlene. Mr. Bubbles was totalled. His power system had fused to the shell rendering any meaningful repair redundant. However, that didn't stop her from using every means necessary to save Mr.B's OS. He would live on! The following year was hard for her. Being that the panthers had lost nearly all credibility. Mind you she didn't hesitate to use her more seedy contacts to try and find out more about the disaster that had killed her mech. She was livid, if she could, she'd tear their teeth out through their arse. It would be quite the impressive sight. One which would probably leave lasting scars on Cecilia. Mind you, not like she hasn't done that before.
It had been rather strange having to deal with the stigma the panthers had been facing since that attack. She mostly just refused to acknowledge it and had been in many the fist fight over the dignity of the Panthers. Many ending in hospital trips for herself and whomever was stuck on the otherside of her indignation. Sarah had been out of combat for the first few months, trying to load Mr.B into a brand spanking new LGB-21 Kirikin. As usual however with her botch jobs. She'd disabled and tweaked to the point where their wasn't anything recognizable about the Kirkins kernal. But Mr. B was resurrected and a totally 'voluntary' party was thrown for the celebration. Having finally healed she was ready, fully, to get back in the action. However, it might just be a good idea to keep her as uninformed as possible if the case may be to return to a little place called Osbania...
Inventory: Very little. She has a small pendant her mother gave her before she died and little else. She lives a fairly spartan lifestyle bar her cigarettes.
Funds: Non applicable? Soviet xD
Other: She is not stupid. No matter how frivolous or pointless her tasks may be.
Mole
SpicyMeatball
Foster
Zenku