Tech

----Subject Investigations Report-----

Name: Tech
Age: Unknown----thought to be early twenties
Gender: Female
Ethnicity: Cacuasian
Hometown: Unknown
Occupation: Unknown-----heavy ties to the Underworld
Characteristics: Insane—Antisocial Personality Disorder (Sociopath)
Placement: Deranged


Personality:
Tech has always been one of the monsters though she does not see it that way. There is very little that is truly known about her and in that way she is an enigma. Were she to truly be caught, it would be the definition of a sociopath that best defined her. Tech has very little that she has any attachment to in this world, rather she enjoys the hunt and the way the world spins. As a whole, functioning unit, Tech is incapable of much of human emotion and rather tucks the little she feels behind a stoic mask. She is not the person you want to know or come across and yet, unfortunately, you may very well do so.

She views the world as her own playground, a bit of a god complex that may well be her downfall, and from her lofty views she sees the humans as toys placed here for her own amusement. Tech views herself as an Other, something that has a human form but does not function as one, instead she keeps to the shadows and plays games with those she comes across, poking where she shouldn’t, trying to find what drives humans and their kind over and over again. She delights in the chase and the killing, proficient at extracting information from any means necessary.

Tech veers from the normal monsters in that she does not discriminate in killing anyone whether they are innocent or not, young, old, infant, or elderly, they all may fall victim to her plots and twists. She extracts your fears and uses them, lying and conning those around her into a false sense of security, playing the human in a mechanical sort of way that masks what she truly is. She has no attachment to people or objects making her a hard person to pin down to being caught. If she does wind up in someone’s custody, Tech knows the ins and outs of how to skirt around it, never quite leaving enough evidence to say it was her, but her signature is all over the victims, dying in a place constructed of their nightmares and fears.

Laughter and smiling is not something she is likely to participate in, instead preferring to dissect the puppy she took finding out how long she can keep it alive before it dies. Humans garner the same process, sloppy then perfect as she hones and refines her skills. It doesn’t matter to her who it was that she took, viewing everyone and everything with the disdain of an unhappy creator and of that, she has no reason to fear the law or believe that laws apply to her. Tech does as she pleases and when she wants with no blatant attachment or regard to any rules, regulations, and laws.

Her life was a complicated series of events cultivating in her glorious abandonment of any remaining form of humanity, nothing showing her how humans form attachment or how to fear something. Resulting from the cumulative events of chaos, Tech is a silent killer and hunter, being called to find out exactly what it is that drives humanity, and thusly throwing a glorious chaos over the total form of society and what is known.

To complicate things more for those that hunt her, some crimes that occur are those that could be implied as sexual in nature, though she does not see it that way, thusly reigning as a true asexual, attracted to nothing and faking all of her interests to find the newest player in her games. Her downfalls are those that give her strength, the poor backwater police that can’t access the main systems and sloppy police work letting her get off free and building her confidence to which she truly believes nothing can bring her down, going after exceedingly dangerous persons every time. She does not know the meaning of fear, taking risks that make others cautious and as such, she feels that she has no reason to fear what others do. Tech views the world through skewed lenses, seeing herself as the one who runs the show and thusly sparing no second glance to anyone else that might wish to knock her off her imagined throne.

It is uncertain as to whether or not she is slowly losing her grip on reality and what is true and what is false while she operates, some kills seem to be more of an obsession than anything and she has her own momentary lapses of judgment in who to kill and how to kill them, sometimes getting a little too sloppy for her own good and seeming to listen to something that may or may not be there.


Appearance
Hair: Platinum Blonde (changes often)
Height: 5’5” (5 feet, 5 inches)----estimated.
Weight: Unknown
Skin: Pale white.
Eyes: Bi-colored, one pale blue and one black. Unknown if through contacts or through natural causes
Tech is a ghost, to put it plainly. She has platinum blonde hair and extremely pale skin, almost glowing. She is slender in a way that says she does not have the curves of a woman and is instead all muscle and moves in a way that arises from years of training. Instead of keeping to one color for her hair, it changes constantly, from brown to black to bright red and even to more unnatural colors. There is not a distinguishing mark on her body that can be seen or that has ever been noted in the scattered few police files that mark her as existing.

She has two naturally different colored eyes, one a pale blue and the other pitch black, opposite ends of the spectrum, but she normally wears a contact in her blue one to turn it black and hide her differences. People notice differences, she found out, so she dresses to match the area she is in, normally favoring pants with a large amount of pockets and a tighter fitting tank top. Overall, there is something distinctive about her short cut hair, not quite long enough to grab in a fight, nor short enough to be confused with a male. Her figure is one that is best described as androgynous, belying the truth about what lies underneath and the eyes that never show emotion.

Physical Condition:[PHYSICAL CAPABILITIES AND PRACTICES]

• [SUB-CAT 1]
  Patience.
  Tech is too patient for her own good, instead preferring the game of watching and waiting while taking down notes and learning how people work. She does not view a reason as to why she should rush through actions when that results in sloppiness and getting caught. She’s had her brushes with society’s laws and is in no rush for another.
  
• [SUB-CAT 2]
  Fighter
  As a hunter and a smaller female, Tech needed to be in the best shape of her body physically that could be naturally achieved. She learned various skills from being picked on by older and bigger siblings as well as while on the trains and running, learning how to perfect skills where she shouldn’t and how to take a hit and fall with it, living with a group of paramilitary that taught her these invaluable skills plus others.
  
• [SUB-CAT 3]
  Hacking.
  Her name was well earned, having found an affiliation for computers and technology early, loving the challenge of taking things apart and putting them back together. It was perhaps the reasoning that she became why she did, learning the cut and dry methods of technology, now she wants to learn what makes humans operate and different than any other animal.

Character Accessories:
1. Set of hunting knives
2. Night vision goggles
3. State of the Art laptop with integrated surveillance systems.

ASSOCIATIONS

• Friends:
  
• Enemies:
  
• Rivals:
  
• Lover(s):
  
• Relatives:
  

History
There is nothing definitive known about Tech’s life that has ever been allowed to come to light. Her history and past remain shrouded in mystery simply because she refused to ever speak or acknowledge the police officers that arrested her as a juvenile. The reports and any information she ever gave was false, including her birthdays and social security numbers. She had no parents, that much was ascertained as she was found on the streets covered in blood from a freshly killed animal.

Her subsequent arrests yielded no better results, mostly from arson this time and the occasional breaking and entering, racking up quite a record, each time in a different location, earning some time in a lock up and others walking free because nothing was proven. She never let on as to what she was or who she was, but it is known that at this point she is over the age of eighteen, due to her records having been sealed. This ends the public knowledge of her.

Her personal history is more convoluted and twisted. Her parents were upstanding, well to do citizens that, when gave birth to a baby girl, they were thrilled. Until her development was seemingly delayed. Taking her to a psychiatrist, it was shown that yes, she was on track, and perhaps eerily far ahead of it. As her parents held her, Aisling O’Leary was decided to be put up for adoption. Those bi-colored eyes never once gave way as she watched everyone, silent.

After she was put up for adoption, she was taken in by a number of families, each one of them not keeping her for long. Sure enough the baby was cute, but the problem was she never spoke. It wasn’t until later that Tech, having long since abandoned her name, decided to begin striking back. Family pets started disappearing as well as the valued objects in the house. First it was presumed that the animal was hit by a car or ran away or escaped and LOST posters were placed up. Tech sat back and watched.

Slowly, however, it became obvious that there was something very, very wrong with her. At age six, she was picked up covered in blood and there her trail begins, however scattered it is. Her first pick up was in a small little town in the middle of Oklahoma. She disappeared after that, sent back to the foster home and then passed back to the agency, this time fostered out to a family in upstate New York. At age seven, there was enough that she was lying already, conning her way through and charming the family. Over the course of the year, fires sprouted up in various homes, coming to a peak on Christmas. There was an investigation and a brief note that she had been new in town and present at the latest fire. Again she was sent back, as the family said they could not keep her.

Age eight she was fostered out for the last time. This family lived in California. There, she was picked up for breaking and entering an elderly neighbor’s house, simply because she could. She spent the next few months in juvenile hall, being released and disappearing, hopping trains to get to where she wanted, using the hobos present as the beginning of her study on humanity. As she worked her way around the country, even crossing the borders during her teenage years, she was occasionally picked up for trespassing, arson, and giving false information. She never spent more than a few months in juvenile hall until there was no more of a trace for her.

During her late teen years, Tech fell in with a group that trained her and taught her how to fight and obey her body, teaching her how to use computers. It was the closest she would ever have to a family and when the compound was raided, Tech was long gone. She learned how to disappear off the grid completely from them and how to fight properly. She learned how to be the perfect little hunter and how to avoid government, but never learned how to form a relationship, instead living in isolation constantly and in the quiet and solitude.

She killed her first human at ten. It was a sloppy kill, messy and not at all neat, with her being left covered in blood. She cleaned up the corpse and dumped it somewhere and left, never once looking back. She now had her first taste of blood and how easy and pathetic she found humans. Slowly what she was began emerging to her surface and taking over. Over the years she has racked up more and more kills, each time taking her time to study her newest toys, playing with them and dragging it out, sometimes pushing them to killing each other, themselves and at other times, doing the deed herself. Her games had finally begun in the shadows.
[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION]

Role Play Sample
It was the cold night that followed, years ago. Frost on the ground, nothing even close to the heat that poured from the hobo’s body as he slowly keeled over, revealing the slender girl with a machete in her hands. In this world, it was dog eat dog, and as a young pup just starting to show her teeth, she was doing alright. Long platinum hair moved and settled down finally as she straightened, pushing a bloody hand through it and streaking it with the crimson turned black in the moon. She seemed to glow in the dark forest, off the train tracks, like a specter that would fade if you looked too close.

Tiny hands grabbed the body, unsurprised by the lack of weight of the taller man, though moving him was a bit of a challenge. She knew better than to get caught with murder, then they would dig. The law, the authorities, how she held nothing but disdain for them. They pretended to be the best, pretended to be good but in the end, they would still kill you if they had the chance. There was no such thing as purely good and purely evil in her world, all it that was became a streak of gray. Hands worked quickly to rid the body onto the train tracks, knowing the next train would take care of him, due any moment now. Tech searched the man for anything valuable, taking what she found and deemed useful before looking down at her blood stained hands.

She had gotten her first thrill of killing a human and loved it.

All that remained of the girl now were the bi-colored eyes that snapped open in the dark, staring at the ceiling of the cheap motel and listening to the noise of the city around her. She hated it. The stench, the filth, the echoes of the pitiful humans. They were all beneath her, playthings and pawns on her board. Here she ruled, she would not be struck down. Tonight she would finish her game.

The grimy mirror in the dingy bathroom with its yellow lighting and peeling walls served to show her the blood red color of her hair this time. She stared at the mirror, almost looking through it, as if trying to ascertain whether or not that voice she just heard was her own mind or outside. It didn’t matter, she thought and instead turned on the faucet and watched the dirty water swirl down the drain before sliding cold, delicate, pale hands under the stream, cupping the water and splashing it on her face momentarily before straightening in a fluid motion and drying her face with the towel.

The next moment was spent ridding the room of any and all of her DNA, anything that could be traced as she lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke and ashes, tucking it in some corner still lit and waiting, like at time bomb as she moved out, pulling on leather gloves before she would touch anything. It took a special kind of person to sit back and watch the world burn. Besides, in this area, who would be surprised if something caught fire? There were gunshots ringing out and she was annoyed with the incessant sound, irritability briefly crossing her features before it was all tucked away behind a stoic mask.

The leather coat seemed a bit warm for the time of month, but the knit hat with a brim covered her face and the jacket served her purpose, concealing the small bits of wire she’d purchased from a hardware supply store early in the day, when everything was open. Her eyes were masked, one contact having been slid in to conceal the bright blue and to make her seem more like the devil that she’d been painted as. Humanity was so easy to bring about an end to, and she fully intended to do so. Here, she was god, here she played, here was where she was searching to find the best because only then would she die.

It was a matter of pride that kept her going, along with a complex that elevated her mind to the status of her as a godly creature, one above these pesky humans and their laws. She slowly made her way down the hall in the motel, tossing the key on the desk and some cash, never once looking back or revealing her face. Many assumed her to be a male figure despite her short stature, to which she played the fantasies, watching and waiting, finding her next puzzle. Tonight the final pieces would fall in place for her latest jigsaw.

He had been a successful business man and lost everything. Despite it, he did not give up. It intrigued her and she wanted to know what made him tick and what would make him lose all hope. It took work, which she did not mind, and soon she had him running and looking like every other hopeless being. Tonight his heart would stop one way or another. He would either do the deed or become the latest dissection tool for her. One would never stop evolving in this line. Never.

Turning the corner, she could almost taste the foul stench in the air, cheap hookers and prostitutes crowding every corner as she moved through them, her very being making all those around her uneasy as she floated by, almost like a bad dream, easy to write off unless you got in her way. Then it was quick and gone and he was on the floor as she kept walking. His whores would not help him now. They were quick to take his money and jewelry and run, back to their families. Tech kept walking as she slid the small knife back in her sleeve, letting it nestle into its home again. A cheap pimp in a dirty section of town garnered no attention. He would be taken out with the rest of the garbage.

Her feet made no sound, clad in heavy duty boots made for kicking in doors as she stood by the fence of the house of the poor soul she’d lay claim to. All it took now was a simple walk through the fence and open the door and her fun would begin. But she waited, sensing something and tilting her head a few degrees to the right, waiting and watching some dark corner, always waiting and watching, almost as if she was looking for her audience.

ReferralFollowed a trail!

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

A character perfectly fit for the nightmare.