Chevaleresse
Fetzen
Neziul
Villamvihar
mickilennial
shylarah@DeadDrop
Sorry for any spelling errors. Wanted to get this out before I went to work;
"Quote"
LOOKS
A woman of maturity in her early thirties, Romanov boasts a curvaceous figure and a salacious strut to her steps that puts it all on display. Her hair is long and thick, with wild offshoots that make it seem as though her body is always in motion. Away from the more attention getting assets is a face with lines denoting one prone to inviting smiles and disarming laughter, her voice a purr with a hint of a Russian accent to make it exotic while still crystal clear.
PSYCHE
She exudes sexuality because she knows it's bewitching, that it gives her untold leverage over those around her, and like a serpent coiling around a rat she has them at her mercy. With a sway of her hips and a quirk of her lips, she twists them to her liking, takes them for everything they have, and leaves them begging for more. A peddler of addiction and affliction, it's satisfying to push those she's ensnared towards vice, till they've withered and rotted beyond any use to her. There is no lingering sentiment towards her past marks, nor is their hesitation in lining her pockets with the acquisition of another. A snake in the hen house, and an appetite that knows no end.
Heat
Nothing significant. Families of past customers may hold grudges, disgruntled spouses blaming failed marriages on standards raised impossibly high, and the occasional dealer who felt she was getting out of place. Nothing she'd be worried about with her hired help, though they bring their own Heat to the mix as well.
STREET CRED
Small but persistent. When her sights are on you, she won't settle for anything short of total submission.
THE STORY- FIXER
A humble origin for a less then humble person, one whose aspirations had been inclined to pursuits more wholesome in a time long since past. Once upon a time she'd have liked to be a Doctor, as there were few who could have such unmitigated influence without the lives of others without living life with a rifle in hand. But suffice it to say such an occupation was notoriously difficult for the resources and education needed to enter the field, and a lady of no repute found herself developing a more ill one upon her back to remedy that issue.
Prostitution was a learning experience, and as debasing and disappointing as it could be at times, it was far more enlightening then she could have dreamed. Exorbitant prices for quick transactions, prices fluctuating with a few choice words teasing the bill higher with devilish offers in moment's of weakness. Romanov found the power she wielded intoxicating, but like all highs it lost it's edge with time as her tastes grew more refined. Aiming higher, she sought control with less effort, and found her answer in a different field of work; Narcotics.
It was simple to connect from one illicit occupation to the other, as most of those turning tricks were liable to abuse whatever substance let them sleep at night, and pushing a bit of product on customers could only make everyone happier. Keeping her own veins clean of drugs assured others she wasn't skimming the merchandise as she delved further into the muck and filth of society, original intentions long abandoned for the tangible power of the present.
She found herself a small time operation, and walked past doors always open for her, straight into the boss' office. It was nothing grand, but that was part of the enjoyment for her when she took it off his hands, a hypodermic needle still bouncing in his arm as his hallucinogenic product sent him running out a two story and landing on his neck. It gave her cooks, it gave her distribution, and that was all she needed to start an illustrious career amidst the back alleys and street corners. She could even acquire a bit of muscle whose company was a constant source of entertainment-
At least, until an upstart gang with a bit of a longer reach then her own came calling, and she was behooved to put her skills towards a cause that tempted her with the possibility of greater gains then she could alone.
ARMED IN THE ONE AND TWENTY
...AND THE REST
Miscellaneous.
Sorry for any spelling errors. Wanted to get this out before I went to work;
Romanov Borsky
"Quote"
LOOKS
A woman of maturity in her early thirties, Romanov boasts a curvaceous figure and a salacious strut to her steps that puts it all on display. Her hair is long and thick, with wild offshoots that make it seem as though her body is always in motion. Away from the more attention getting assets is a face with lines denoting one prone to inviting smiles and disarming laughter, her voice a purr with a hint of a Russian accent to make it exotic while still crystal clear.
PSYCHE
She exudes sexuality because she knows it's bewitching, that it gives her untold leverage over those around her, and like a serpent coiling around a rat she has them at her mercy. With a sway of her hips and a quirk of her lips, she twists them to her liking, takes them for everything they have, and leaves them begging for more. A peddler of addiction and affliction, it's satisfying to push those she's ensnared towards vice, till they've withered and rotted beyond any use to her. There is no lingering sentiment towards her past marks, nor is their hesitation in lining her pockets with the acquisition of another. A snake in the hen house, and an appetite that knows no end.
Heat
Nothing significant. Families of past customers may hold grudges, disgruntled spouses blaming failed marriages on standards raised impossibly high, and the occasional dealer who felt she was getting out of place. Nothing she'd be worried about with her hired help, though they bring their own Heat to the mix as well.
STREET CRED
Small but persistent. When her sights are on you, she won't settle for anything short of total submission.
THE STORY- FIXER
A humble origin for a less then humble person, one whose aspirations had been inclined to pursuits more wholesome in a time long since past. Once upon a time she'd have liked to be a Doctor, as there were few who could have such unmitigated influence without the lives of others without living life with a rifle in hand. But suffice it to say such an occupation was notoriously difficult for the resources and education needed to enter the field, and a lady of no repute found herself developing a more ill one upon her back to remedy that issue.
Prostitution was a learning experience, and as debasing and disappointing as it could be at times, it was far more enlightening then she could have dreamed. Exorbitant prices for quick transactions, prices fluctuating with a few choice words teasing the bill higher with devilish offers in moment's of weakness. Romanov found the power she wielded intoxicating, but like all highs it lost it's edge with time as her tastes grew more refined. Aiming higher, she sought control with less effort, and found her answer in a different field of work; Narcotics.
It was simple to connect from one illicit occupation to the other, as most of those turning tricks were liable to abuse whatever substance let them sleep at night, and pushing a bit of product on customers could only make everyone happier. Keeping her own veins clean of drugs assured others she wasn't skimming the merchandise as she delved further into the muck and filth of society, original intentions long abandoned for the tangible power of the present.
She found herself a small time operation, and walked past doors always open for her, straight into the boss' office. It was nothing grand, but that was part of the enjoyment for her when she took it off his hands, a hypodermic needle still bouncing in his arm as his hallucinogenic product sent him running out a two story and landing on his neck. It gave her cooks, it gave her distribution, and that was all she needed to start an illustrious career amidst the back alleys and street corners. She could even acquire a bit of muscle whose company was a constant source of entertainment-
At least, until an upstart gang with a bit of a longer reach then her own came calling, and she was behooved to put her skills towards a cause that tempted her with the possibility of greater gains then she could alone.
ARMED IN THE ONE AND TWENTY
▶Federated Arms x-38 : Cost: €35
▶ Kevlar Clothing: Cost: €50
▶ Dakai/Cyphire New Throat: Cost: €850
▶ Forked Tongue: Cost: €350
▶ Voice Pattern: Cost: €350
▶ Midnight Lady Implant : Cost: €300
▶ 10 Doses of Vulcan Pinch: Cost: €50
▶ 10 Doses of Ultrablue Glass: Cost: €10
▶ Total Cost: €1995
...AND THE REST
Miscellaneous.