Post by Erin Moore on Jan 6, 2014 22:05:40 GMT -6
erin moore
AGE
twenty-six. OCCUPATION
she makes a living off governing Syntos as MAYOR, her iron fist clenching the public in the name of AVATAR.ETHNICITY
caucasian.SECTOR
mayor. USUAL RESIDENCE
manse.appearance
The face of Syntos is not powdered and dressed in attire meant to impress the public eye. There is no expensive fabric the keeps her body secret. A refined leading lady that attends press conferences with folded hands and a suit does not exist in the political pinnacle of Syntos.
She dresses for war. Combat boots, tank tops, cargo pants, Erin's closet is stocked with a wardrobe that would make any military buff smile. She enters her office dressed for the battlefield.
And she keeps those thick lens on the crown of her head. Those goggles with reflective red lens are always perched on her head. Always means always. Erin is never seen without them. Sometimes she will even slide them down and wear them around indoors, intimidating her attendants with that red gleam. Those goggles hide more than her eyes.
She dresses for war. Combat boots, tank tops, cargo pants, Erin's closet is stocked with a wardrobe that would make any military buff smile. She enters her office dressed for the battlefield.
And she keeps those thick lens on the crown of her head. Those goggles with reflective red lens are always perched on her head. Always means always. Erin is never seen without them. Sometimes she will even slide them down and wear them around indoors, intimidating her attendants with that red gleam. Those goggles hide more than her eyes.
weaponry
click, click, bang
Quick to anger, quicker to draw. Erin’s solution to her grievances are bullet holes and bloodshed. Her pistol, a primitive imitator of past models, comes equipped with semi-automatic features. She gets six shots and then a reload is needed. Erin is quick to reload. Her gunfire echoes throughout the Manse on the daily, and holes in the wall from conflicts past haunt each hall. Fortunately, those that are face to face with the barrel of her pistol have a chance of escape. Erin’s trusted weapon of choice is known to backfire. headshot
When the bullets are spent and the blackpowder is shed, Erin’s last resort comes to play. A simple, primal tool that can be deadly when in the right hand (as in her hand). A hardwood baton. A memento from her days in the police force, Erin’s club is painted a rusty read from her bludgeons. Famous for her talent at “braining”, Erin can crack bone with one swing, or skull really because this girl aims for the head. When she’s between a rock and a hard place, she swings like mad and beat her victims postmortem, until their faces are unrecognizable. abilities
Erin's incredibly talented when it comes to slamming her fist on that PANIC button. The tiniest of mistakes send a rush of chilling fear that leads straight to the trigger. One click and the problem is gone, face-down in a pool of blood. When the problem can't be solved with bloodshed, she uses her political power to tighten the reigns and suffocate whatever is getting under her skin. She is a punctual problem solver.
Nothing escapes the watchful eye of Miss Mayor. Behind those red shades, she has the EYE OF A HAWK. Her habit of keeping tabs on just about anyone she crosses is infamous. A perfect stranger may fall victim to her scrutiny over something as simple as a stammer. With paranoia ticking in her head, Erin feels obligated to watch everything and everyone, and she does it frighteningly well.
Nothing escapes the watchful eye of Miss Mayor. Behind those red shades, she has the EYE OF A HAWK. Her habit of keeping tabs on just about anyone she crosses is infamous. A perfect stranger may fall victim to her scrutiny over something as simple as a stammer. With paranoia ticking in her head, Erin feels obligated to watch everything and everyone, and she does it frighteningly well.
personality
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history
Antebellum
Every child establishes some sort of role model, someone to look up to and admire. For the despotic mayor of Syntos, it was her father. As sole parental figure in her life Erin aspired to become just like him and maintain civil order as a police officer. It was a simple dream, easy to achieve. All she wanted was to work alongside her father.
Erin was infatuated with the work of the police. She would bombard her father with questions, constantly wanting to feed her curiosity. Father pacified her soon enough when he handed her his goggles and said: “You’ll learn it all when your work with me one day”.
Her dreams soon consisted of the work of her father, which she imagined herself to be doing one day as well. Disciplining the scum of society, keeping the streets clean and safe, Erin wanted nothing more than to do what police did best.
By the time she was eighteen, her dream was realized. Soon enough she was out on the field, but something was amiss.
Her superiors noted “extreme aggression” and “unjustified suspicion” towards the civilians. Quick to punish. Quicker to incarcerate. Erin exercised her authority from day one, pushing it to the limit and beyond. Her boots were soon crusted and stained with the blood of the victims of her brutality, which went unchecked. It went unchecked because she was good at what she did, however irrational.
More criminals were locked away under Erin’s patrols than any police officer her age before her. It was an impressive feat. So impressive that the bloodstains on her nightstick were ignored, and the bruises and beatings she dealt were overlooked.
Erin would not be stopped, and her invincibility continued when she stood before the Manse and let that drop of blood shed at the prick of her finger. Now, she could keep peace on a broader scale… Now, no one could question the red on her palms.
WRITER
yuu!~VOCALOID, gumi as erin moore
coded by electric of gangnam style
