Cinnamon

NAME: D ROLE: Trading Manger FACTION: WMOS (WEAPONS MANUFACTUERS OR SOMETHING)

APPEARANCE

In contrast to the formal suits of the AAHW D can be seen with a military cap, shades, heeled shoes and a loose shirt with a pair of bell bottoms. She primarily wears loose or oversize clothes and can always be seen with her cap and AAHW shades.

ABILITIES

Nothing more than that of a standard ranking agent, could have been an engineer but that would have been another can of worms to deal with...

SPECIALIZATION

D specializes in managing trading with clients from the black market and training members of WMOS when she's got time. As much as she wants to let loose order is must where every she goes.

THE AAHW D

can't remember a time before the AAHW, all she knows is her purpose is to rid the world of the threat that is Hank J. Wimbleton. She was damn good tracker and solider, rose pretty well up the ranks but decided not to become an engineer she liked or liked as much as she could being a field agent. Obviously it was not all rainbows and sunshine, the training was cruel and gruelling, her superiors wanted nothing but the best, show your worth, how far will you go? Do you not believe in the cause? Prove yourself.

And he did, D worked and train and threw who she had under the bus for that praise, for that acknowledgement, for that raise up the latter, she was on cloud fucking nine. Then eventually for some time she became a drill sergeant, teaching the newbies all the tips and tricks, how to not get yourselves killed, maybe some other more questionable things but not like anyone's telling.

But soon or later the environment got to her, perhaps faulty code, guilt, maybe one day she seeing how easy Hank ripped someone apart up close got to her, those red googles or maybe a hit to the head pushed something out of place but all D knew was its all too much.

THE SUN LOVES YOU

After a few months of that unbearable itch to get out of the agency D began to keep an eye out for people who could possibly help her, those that seemed the most merciful as one could get in Nevada. And that's when she meets Marcus, he's been keeping and eye on the grunt for a while, there was this air of hesitation around him. After almost ever kill, whether by him or someone from SQ the grunt would look back sadly even if for a bit.

So she waited, wait till the grunt was alone, she should have killed him she knew that, the voice of her supervisor and instinct screaming to shoot this threat.

When she got the grunt alone she pleaded, swallowed her pride and put on her best act, just enough to get out then she'd scram and avoid them all the best she could. She guy was crazy she new it, that smile, those eyes that heat just coming off him, it scared her she won't lie at least not to herself.

So they made a deal, she would get the tracker out and give Marcus information in the mean time and he'd help her, give her a place to stay and then she's off and won't ever bother him again.

Eventually she gets the tracker out, in exchange for an unfortunate leg injury, she even handed the tracker to Marcus to show that she did it and he repaid her actions with a painful and permanent mark, the rest she can't remember but at least she's out, at least she's free.

WMOS and ONWARD D

wakes up in the little medical bay at WMOS, Split at her side checking her stats, she's far too high on pay killers to do something but calms down a bit when she see Marcus enter the room. After his injuries heal she shadows Marcus at first acting as a guard dog of sorts, he treats her like a dog to be blunt, she is aware of his… behaviours but the leash is so long and loose that she ignores how he treats her less than a person at times.

Most of WMOS didn't trust her, didn't treat her the best, AAWH agents outside of deals aren't seen in the best light and neither are outsiders, but some ex agents there gave her more of chance. She becomes a master of her craft in trading eventually helping in the training of her fellow workers, a good refresher for the old heads and a cover for the ones who don't know shit about fighting properly.