Name: Carla Lobo
Aliases:- Carl - Used by friends
- Wolf - Codename used by superiors
- L - Codename for agents who report to her
- B.W. - Nickname used by fellow spooks after the infamous run against 'Mstilav the Stern' incident
Age: 28
Birthday: December 7
Ethnicity: Latin
Birth Planet: Shiva
Allegiance: Neutral
Starting Location: Persephone
Gender: Female
Occupation: Assassin
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 134 lbs
Build: Light, lean muscle and runner's thighs
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Black
Skin Tone: Olive
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Ears pierced. Bullet wound on left thigh. Burn scars along her left wrist to elbow. One shrapnel wound in low right back.
Personal Style: Carla's closet is a walk-in room with two clothing racks lining the walls. Along one side was a wide assortment of dresses, slacks, and blouses of black, gray, and white; the unofficial colors of the agency. The fabric was always fresh pressed and never worn for more than one day before being sent to be cleaned. Lining the floor were sensible loafers and slip on leather shoes.
The other half was a collection of brightly colored and patterned dresses, gowns, skirts, petticoats and all other assortment of feminine dress. Fashionable high heeled shoes line the floor opposite from the loafers and pristine white elbow-length gloves hung from the ceiling. In the corner sat bonnets, hats, bustles and all sorts of cosmetic supplies, all arranged in a manner that only makes sense to Carla.
Sociopath * Pragmatic * Organized * Decisive * Stoic * Personable
Sexuality: Homosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Carl is almost zealous in her pursuit of perfecting her craft as an Assassin. More than anything else, she views her occupation as her largest, most defining trait. Time spent not in the business of dealing death feels wasted and hollow.
She is a quiet woman who gets things done as efficiently as possible. She acts friendly to those around her, but she doesn't really get close with others, preferring to keep to herself unless branching out is necessary. When at big social gatherings she isn't exactly in agony, but the distinct impression can be felt by those who are properly acquainted with her that she would much rather be elsewhere.
She lives for certain moments. The rush of traveling at high speeds through the uppermost limits of the atmosphere. The satisfaction of finally completing a project correctly and being able to gaze upon her work. The feeling of putting on freshly cleaned underwear. However, the moment she savors most is the moment of the kill. The more up close and personal, the better. Although it can be quite satisfying to see a man lose a significant portion of brain matter in an instant, Carla gets the greatest highs when she can feel the body grow limp and see the light fade from her quarry's eyes. That experience of transient beauty as a person changes from a living being to an inanimate object sends shivers down her spine and a feeling of relief unmatched in any other form.
Habits:
- Pouring out an alcoholic drink on the floor before a sip
- Nail biting
Hobbies:
- Recreational Pilot
- Earth-That-Was curio collector
- Sand painting
Fears:
- Getting spaced
- Rejection
- Dying in a snowstorm
Likes:
- Things being done efficiently
- Killing
- Gunsmoke
- Dinner
- Reporting a mission accomplished
- Cats
Dislikes:
- The phrase "milk run"
- Coconuts
- Pain
- Subordinates not following orders
- Being interrupted
- Screaming
General Skills:
- Astrogation
- Jack of All Trades
- Deception (Bluff)
- Gun Combat
- Melee
- Recon
- Stealth
- Athletics
- Pilot
Specialty Skills:
- Pilot (Fighter)
- Blade (Melee)
- Rifle (Gun Combat)
- Endurance (Athletics)
- Coordination (Athletics)
What Is On Your Person:
- A pair of blue gloves, black jacket, white shirt, and black tie. Black slacks and well-worn steel-toe boots.
- Fake identity card
- Knapsack
- Company Credit Card
- Wallet
- Combat Knife
- .45 ACP Revolver, fully loaded. Carries 2 more sets of bullets on person
- Two shoulder pistol and ammo clip holster
- Silver pocket watch
- A gold-plated lighter
Quarters:
- GOOD (Get Out Of Dodge) bag containing: Fake ID, 25 K in unmarked bills, simple medical kit, Alliance badge, credit cards to an alias, deeds and registration to a house on Greenleaf, and a bottle of whisky
- Ammo
- Centerfire scout sniper rifle
- A curved Officer's Sabre, this one full functional rather than merely a decorative status symbol
- A small chest full of various poisons carefully labelled and sealed in vials
- Tactical vest
- Assault rifle
- One VHS tape
- Personal laptop and card reader synced into the Agency's database
- Radio tuned into local law enforcement and fed comms
- One-man space shuttle customized for speed and atmo-resistance
The Reason You Chose The Side You Did: Indentured servitude is a time-honored tradition. Carla was selected for the Agency at eight and has known no other life. They don't need to threaten her with a gun anymore; she can't imagine doing anything else. Following Miranda, the Alliance conducted a hostile take-over of the Agency and is organizing their agents under new management.
History: Carla was born to a prostitute who gave her lifeblood to push her on Shiva in a small town named Jīhuì. She was turned over to a local monastery before the placenta was washed off.
It was a small temple with few monks and a herd of unwanted children raising each other and being taught informally by the monks. Upon a child's eighth birthday they were weighed and their worth determined. Some stayed on Shiva to earn their way to a profession and an education if they were smart enough and could secure a sponsor. Others were generously given off-world opportunities. Serendipity forced a young man who called himself M onto Shiva to take refuge at the monastery. He watched the children take their cues from the monks and made a modest investment to secure the adoption of seven children. Carla was among them and spent the next seven years training on Ares for a company referred to only as the Agency.
M never intended to be a father. Instead, he left the children on an island in Ares in the care of a rotating staff of instructors. The children were fed at 0430 before put to work running on hard-packed sand, swimming into waves, and running obstacle courses. After lunch they would move into the formal education of being pumped full of information. Then dinner and cleaning whatever vomit or blood needed to be scrubbed out before sleep. The next day the routine would begin again. Carla cried while her knees felt like hot metal rods were running through them whenever she sat or lay down. Every cut that didn't have time to heal would often become infected and was given the barest treatment to avoid delays in training. However, one memory shines out among all the grime of the training: Beautiful Sam. The boy who quit. He stopped in the middle of a run and broke down crying. This wasn't new. All of them had broken at one point or another. What made it different was Sam screaming that he was done. He screamed
no more over and over. All the children watched as an instructor walked up to him, pulled his pistol, and sprayed his brains over the sand. Carla felt an odd feeling of excitement come over her as she viewed the killing. For the rest of the day she kept replaying that scene over and over again. In hindsight she recognized this as her first sexual experience.
Two more of the selected died during the six month initial training regimen. Afterwards, the children were given respite and being built up after being broken physically and mentally. The remaining four were taken off world. They learned to pilot spacecraft, geography of the worlds, the finer points of stealth, and tactical combat. They were told the training was complete when the Browncoats began their first rebellion. Winning the war was the graduation exam.
The privately owned company took on government contracts exclusively during the Unification War. Carla was given orders to Whitefall at 15 years old. The Alliance experimented with different methods of elimination during the war. On Shadow, they bombarded the planet to oblivion. On other planets, biological weapons took out the enemy and left resources in tact. On Whitefall, rebel leaders were strategically coerced or killed and the remaining manpower was cleansed with rifle fire or put to work on factories and farms. Carla operated out of the Alliance stronghold and sneaked in and out of the shrinking Browncoat territory with a list of names and silently took lives. At the end of the War she earned stand alone agent privileges for two reasons: The other three graduates had been killed and Dust Devils were making the Alliance hold on Athens weak.
The Unification War brought prosperity, a reliable stream of government funds, and contracts to the Agency. Of the seven, Carla was the only success by default and had repaid the Agency in full for their modest investment across all seven children. Carla was moved to Persephone and worked out of a penthouse apartment with a small support team to take more of the freelance contracts against and for Alliance officials. It was a position she earned after the death of a senior operative.
It was also the first time in years Carla was given autonomy and free time. The free time was overwhelming at first and she buried herself in sand painting, music, and breaking the sound barrier in her modest shuttle in an effort to distract herself from the immense boredom a lack of structure brought. Contracts, few as they were, always brought a wave of relief to the Assassin. One particular job had her wait in a formal ambassador's gala, wave at a secret camera, and stand as a threat to the Dangun magistrate's son. She wore a black gown and hovered at the edge of the party while waiting for the word to execute or exit.
What saved the man's life that night after a kill order was given was Genevieve Dupoit on his arm. Seeing her made Carla hesitate the span of the seven seconds that was needed for the Ambassador to agree to whatever terms the client was pressing and rescind the order. Carla hastily left the party and waited the better part of a day before sending a wave to the woman.
Carla was delightfully surprised when she was accepted. Her weekly to bi-weekly outings with Gene became Carla's favorite part of her routine. However, every time she ended up meeting with Genevieve, she felt urges in the back of her head, whispering devilish commands into her ear. She always resisted them, but they would linger on well after the Companion had left. Often times, the Genevieve would probe and try to suss out the sort of woman Carla was. Carla would respond by blending truth and fiction in a hazy tale that satisfied her curiosity. Carla always got the sense that Gene was keen to help but would never
want to understand. It was a distraction, she mused, for both of them. When Gene took an extended vacation and left Persephone Carla left her Tuesdays free. Out of habit she insisted to herself and anyone who asked. Carla sent Genevieve a wave after one month of agonizing over not seeing her. The warmth and kindness that drew Carla to her was gone. The woman speaking back to her was courteous but shut off and hurting. Seeing Gene in such pain brought up a complicated stew of emotions she wasn't used to feeling. Rage. Sadness. A desire for retribution. But most of all Envy. She cut off the wave and used her free time to investigate. A little digging into the companion guild's more recent black marks revealed Dom and his crime to Carla. It was almost too perfect to have someone to blame. The 'Verse was rarely so accommodating. She visited Dom, had a heart to heart, and cut out his.
The worlds continue to spin and the Miranda scandal was exposed to the 'Verse. This led to many things and resignations and scandal. Most importantly to Carla it led to the a hostile take over of the Agency by Alliance operatives. The overall structure of the agency was organized into independent cells that reported to supervisors. As a leading agent on Persephone, Carla has introduced herself to three acting directors in the span of a month. The Alliance was grabbing up assets and cleaving at enemies with all the restraint of a butcher's carving. Work was work, but when orders from on high and even promotions were death sentences one had to consider their options.
Character Quote:
- Whatever happens, happens.
- Shāntiḥ, Shāntiḥ, Shāntiḥ.
- Shiny.
Theme Song: Alliance Record: A litany of speeding fines and unauthorized air space access
Anything Else: Link and Saffron
*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy.
