#mod reply.

While we’re at it, what’s new with you?

- jacqueline-of-all-trades

𝚃 𝙴 𝙰 𝙼 𝙳 𝙴 𝙱 𝚁 𝙸 𝙴 𝙵 !

She can't keep her story straight, can she ? Well, it's no fault of her own — there's a fickle, higher power at play. Katharine Adriana Timoshenko is still the same Intern we've (begrudgingly) come to know and love; ambitious, bright, always willing to lend a hand. Now age 34, she's worked at Mann Co. for a handsome seven years prior to Ring of Fired. How does one stay an Intern for seven years ? Well, there's not many opportunities to climb the administrative ladder. Besides, she can't ! See ? It's all in the contract . . . Her whole life, she's told she's good for one thing, and one thing only; that brain of hers. Gotta make the most of it — fill it to the brim with all and any knowledge she can acquire until it bursts, and once it has, do it again. Her family holds her to a high standard, and Kat's not one to disappoint. Were they aware that her mind's stomach would become insatiable ? No, not in the slightest. Katharine's got a knack for picking things up quickly; a great asset to have, yet, too sharp a mind and too dull a life don't pair well for someone with such an acquired taste. We don't need to dive deep into her childhood — college is where the real fun begins, anyway. On paper, she's in the moment she graduates. Realistically, Kat's been sneaking into lecture halls since 16. One institution couldn't suffice, and sticking to a singular study didn't make the synapses fire the way she'd like. Thus her field goes unnamed, too broad for one degree — or simply, too scattered. It's part Ph.D in Biomedical Science, a touch of Mechanical Engineering Ph.D, and a pinch of a Physics Doctorate. Had she been able to take finals, she would've been a brilliant, proper doctor in all these fields. A proper doctor without proper ethics. No-one cared to question the woman tucked away in the lecture hall's furthest row, quietly observing the examination table, until things started going missing. It starts with equipment, yea ? Microscopes, burners, whatnot . . . but when specimen disappear — animals, organs, a couple cadavers — investigations start, and dogs can pick up the scent of formaldehyde quite well. Hubris is a bitch. Katharine, after years of evading notice, had gotten greedy; her insatiable mind starving for more, and more. She wouldn't admit it, not without tossing in a scoff and roll of the eyes like ❛ well, what was I supposed to do ? ❜ It's hard to take the threat of punishment seriously — I mean, is learning a crime ? The way she conducted this learning absolutely was, and it threatened to nullify all of her work; in Kat's mind, she might as well die. This is where the contract — that bloody contract — comes in. Slid against the steel tabletop, interrogation lights burning white rings into her retinas, disguising all but the gloved hand that made such an offer, is a stack of papers with the Mann. Co emblem stamped into the upper corner, and signatures. Someone had already signed off on the idea; to utilize Kat's unorthodox methods and potential to the fullest. The caveat ? There wasn't a term limit. Her duties remain the same; fill-in the blanks for each respective team, maintain weapons and inventory, documentation of events on base, etc. etc. etc. Though unconventional, and certainly not the path she intended to take, Kat's rather happy here . . . If only she got paid !