Hi All!

This is a bit overdue, but I finally got the time to get this typed up and posted! feel free to ask me anything about the character.

Willing to roleplay nearly anything, with prior consent and discussion.

Exceptions:
Scat
Severe wounding that would result in loss of limbs or body parts (i.e. no cutting off fingers or ripping out eyes)
Character death

Any rape attempts on Brielle will produce a VIOLENT reaction and MUST be discussed before any RP happens.

Age: 25
Ht: 5'8"
Wt: 155 lbs
Blood type: A+
Hair: Usually black, occasionally colored or tinted
Eyes: Blue

Identifying marks: Tats on both arms, upper and lower back. Knife scar across left shoulder blade. 2 stab scars above right kidney. Machete across right neck and right outer thigh. Small cuts on left cheek. Stab wound right rear neck. Nose broken several times, most recently was 8/10.

Carrying on the street:
Blackberry
Pack of smokes & bic lighter
Small ceramic pipe and baggie of weed
Wallet with DL, Hathian General & USAF reserve ID
$30-500 cash
Keychain with small can of mace
2 Epi-Pen autoinjectors (1 actually contains valium)
Paramedic belt kit including small maglite, scissors, and latex gloves.
One-piece steel hatchet concealed at her back, under jacket (sometimes)
Ka-Bar knife in sheath, inside pants at beltline.
Machete slung across back under jacket, the handle sticks up and will be visible over her right shoulder.

While working in the hospital, she’ll be wearing scrubs and only have the phone, smokes & wallet on her, anything else will be in the locker room.

Any questions? Feel free to ask me anything.

Brielle wandered into Hathian a few years ago, alone and scared, on the run from an abusive father in New Jersey. She’d had a couple years at her local community college, partying and generally having fun as a typical suburban Jersey Girl growing up on the shore. As an only child, she was somewhat spoiled, but never what you would call “idle rich”.

Everything changed one day when her mother suddenly had to run to the Emergency Room for a terrible abdominal pain. After a series of tests, it was determined that she had a massive ovarian tumor that had spread to most of her internal organs, and wasn’t expected to live more than a few months. Refusing to waste away in pain, her mother shot herself in the head as soon as she was allowed to go home.

Father and daughter were completely devastated. They leaned on each other for support, but her father soon began to fall apart and crawled inside a bottle. He became ever more critical of Brielle and her lifestyle and schoolwork, finally becoming violent and beating her badly. Brielle retreated to a friend’s house to recover and hide for a while. When her drunken father began calling and showing up at all her friend’s houses, threatening their lives and hers, she confronted him and tried to make him understand that he needed help before he ended up in jail. He beat her unconscious and left to find a drink.

Her friends found her and called an ambulance. When she woke up in the hospital, her father was in the hallway, drunk and screaming at the staff, threatening everyone. As he was escorted out, she got herself together and snuck out the hospital. Hiding at a friend’s house for a couple days to recover, she began to plan. She begged or borrowed all the cash she could get, gassed up her old beater, and headed west. Somewhere in western Pennsylvania she had some cousins from her mother’s side of the family. She’d go visit them for a while and see how it went.

Someone talked, and her father found her at a motel 2 days later off the Pennsylvania Turnpike, as she was getting in her car to hit the road again. Luckily a trucker nearby saw the confrontation, and stopped it, beating her father down. Without thinking, she grabbed her few possessions from the car and hopped in the cab with the trucker when he offered a ride.

Without any real plan, she drifted south and west with him for a few days. She was not a virgin, and really didn’t mind when he made he an offer of a continued ride for sex. She needed to save her money anyway, and rode along with him for another couple of days as his sex toy. He wasn’t a bad guy, but she got bored, and hooked up with another driver at a truck stop outside Louisville, Kentucky, and headed south, with the same arrangement. She had no real destination, but the further she got away from her father, the better. And she found she kind of liked being kept and used by these rough, mostly older guys.

Eventually she ended up in Hathian, with nothing but a small backpack of clothes and less than $50.

By pure luck, she managed to find some decent friends who kept her off the streets and helped her find a job. However, after some bad times in the city Brielle found herself alone again. Her friends had apparently been involved in some sort of gang war, and were missing.

Determined not to end up homeless and dead in the street, she joined the US Air Force as a medic. She breezed through training and found she had a real talent for helping people in a crisis in the deserts of Afghanistan. She was quickly promoted and became a combat medic, specializing in front-line trauma care. Brielle had a talent for keeping soldiers alive on medevac flights, working in the dark and noise mostly by feel alone. She finally began to feel proud of herself for the first time in her life. It was a dangerous job, but she loved helping people, whatever the circumstances. She began to look into the possibility of medical school.

Everything changed one sunny day in the desert. She and a few other medics had been working at a small Afghan village, mostly treating children for common problems and handing out candy. This was a very friendly farming village, who’s leaders had embraced the US military like family, and were working towards ending growing poppies in favor of other food crops. The Taliban, and especially their new partners, the Russian Mafia, were not happy at this loss of raw materials in their heroin trade.

They swept in, either unaware or just not caring that US troops were in the village, and slaughtered dozens randomly. Brielle and her unit were caught completely by surprise. Of the nine Air Force personnel, only Brielle and a male doctor were not killed, and only she was unwounded. The Taliban tortured him to death for fun, as he couldn’t walk due to a bullet in his leg. They were about to do the same to Brielle when the Russians intervened. She thought had been saved, but soon wished she’d just been shot and killed.

They kept her as a toy, gang raping her repeatedly over the course of a few weeks. She was forced to drink some concoction of liquid that kept her mostly docile and contained a fair amount of opium. She had neither the will nor strength to fight back, and just prayed for death.

Finally, she was dragged out of the barn they’d been keeping her in, and presented to a group of Americans in black combat gear, but not US military. They were shocked at he appearance, but not angry enough to back out of the deal they had with the Russians. She was quickly loaded up into a humvee and driven across the desert that night. She was given food and water and a blanket to wrap herself in, but all questions went unanswered. Dozing in the back of the truck, she was shaken awake just before dawn. The leader of this group told her that they couldn’t help her any more, or get any closer to a US base, but there was a firebase within a few miles to the west. She was warned not to say anything about who had brought her this far.

Struggling through the morning heat, she was found by a group of marines on a morning patrol. Though she was badly beaten and suffering from dehydration and opium withdrawal, she managed to convince them that she was American. She was quickly Picked up by a medevac flight and treated by her own unit at the frontline hospital.

After being treated for the immediate issues, she was visited by a couple if intelligence officers who grilled her for hours on her whereabouts for the past few weeks. At the mention of the Russians, she was told to stop talking and they shut off the recorders. Without another word, they packed up and left, and posted an armed MP at her door to prevent access to anyone.

In another two days, she found herself being flown back to the US for recovery at Walter Reed Hospital. No one would tell her anything about her current status, but she was recovering quickly from the physical abuse and addiction with the proper treatment. She had continuous nightmares and panic attacks daily, but no one would talk to her about any of that or even admit that there was a problem. Finally, after another couple weeks, a briefing officer showed up in her room and told her she was being given a medical discharge, to be considered Honorable. She could go home and talk to her local VA hospital if she had any more issues, bust she should get dressed and leave now. At her confused questions, he seemed a bit sympathetic, but stuck to his duty in encouraging her to leave as soon as possible.

Seeing her in tears of frustration, anger and confusion, he finally broke down and explained. The guys who had rescued her were from a private security firm who were acting in the interest of the US, helping funnel massive amounts of heroin into Russia, rather than the US. As a matter of national security, the whole thing was being covered up, and if she talked about it, bad things would happen to her.

After a total hysterical breakdown, during which she was ignored and locked in her room alone, she began to pick herself up. She had a final government paycheck for several thousand dollars and $1000 in cash, along with a copy of her medical history and other normal discharge paperwork. She was entitled to a small medical pension and would only have to register her new address to start receiving checks. Rather than going to find her father and risk more beatings, she headed back to Hathian to see if she could find any of her old friends.

She took a bus to Hathian and rented a small apartment. She was able to find some old friends, and is now employed as a trauma nurse in the emergency room at Hathian General.

However, the nightmares and panic attacks continue. The PTSD is slowly driving Brielle to become more violent and somewhat unstable. She’s turned to smoking a lot of weed lately to help cope with the stress and nightmares, but never on duty at the hospital. Hearing anyone speaking Russian can send her into a major panic attack, or worse.

She’s met some new friends lately, and made a few enemies. While new business opportunities may be opening up, she’s also developed a blind hatred towards the Rejects, and has had a few serious fights with them. They’ve caused her more physical damage in the last few months than over a year in a combat zone in Afghanistan. While the Rejects drive her to a berserker rage, she still retains a somewhat bizarre sense of personal honor in regards to others. For instance, after beating an already wounded woman in an alley one night for interrupting a meeting, she didn’t torture her, and called 911 as soon as she was out of the area.

Only time will tell how the story of Brielle progresses.