The first man to ever confess his love for me lays dead, and a most stupid death at that. He could not die a hero, nor in a dignified manner. He leaves behind a handful of friends, who will most likely drink themselves into they forget his name. Varna claims another corpse, not the first, not the last. Your struggle is over, dearest Sven, and I hope now you may rest easy. There is no Union to keep you awake at night in death. Repos bien, mon petit soldat.
Updated:
A multitude of character relations I can't be assed to catalogue. Have a look about if you're really curious. Let me know if you're someone who's missing or if there's a specific aspect you'd like for me to touch on.
Right African-Swedish guy that visited and talked few times to Ophelie in The Pint.
He talked to her about City 8, working in CWU and generally discussed the topic of her gaining Tier 4 [Telling her to try and see if she gets accepted].
They had first met at the campfire in the Slums [V3 I think?]
Right African-Swedish guy that visited and talked few times to Ophelie in The Pint.
He talked to her about City 8, working in CWU and generally discussed the topic of her gaining Tier 4 [Telling her to try and see if she gets accepted].
They had first met at the campfire in the Slums [V3 I think?]
okay yeah now that you mention it I remember them meeting at the campfire, so he's probably like one of the first people she met. Didn't he used to go by a pseudonym?
okay yeah now that you mention it I remember them meeting at the campfire, so he's probably like one of the first people she met. Didn't he used to go by a pseudonym?
Ophélie Eulalie Latourelle View attachment 11099 Citizen Profile CID: #35146 SEX: Female Age: 21 Date of birth: 05/12/1996 Place of birth: Marseille, France Current location: City 24, Geneva Education: Unfinished studies at prestigious private school Occupation: CWU Worker Loyalty status: Tier 3 Height: 5'4" Eye color: Blue Hair color: Ginger
Early life 1996-2001
Ophélie Latourelle was born during the winter of 1996 into a family of French aristocrats who date back all the way to the Carolingian era. She was from a young age groomed to fit the mold of high society and it's rigorous etiquette and values all the while attending a local prestigious private school known for educating the children of the rich and affluent. Her childhood was characterized mostly by learning the ropes of the world her parents knew well, accompanying her Mother to soirees and other social events, as well as sometimes her Father, who made use of her to improve his public image as a politician. Decorated with all the comforts afforded to those born into a family with a fortune amassed over centuries by past ancestors, Ophélie and her siblings were poised for an easy, comfortable life, where they could pursue whatever passion peaked their interest. Yet despite such bright prospects, fate had other plans. By only the age of 5, the country she had known and loved was ravaged by portal storms, extinguishing an era and ushering in a new one.
2001-2002
With Xenian flora and fauna ransacking the land, the Latourelle family would attempt to hunker down at their estate on the outskirts of Marseille, kept relatively safe by the stone walls that surrounded the property. What little food stock they had was quickly burned through, and soon the family was subsisting on the leather spines of books and dead crows while the city burned brightly in the near distance, a fire that the walls could not hold back. Homeless, starving masses would flee for the countryside, looking for safety or traveling beyond, and the Latourelle estate stood in the path of many. Many would come seeking shelter, and all were denied, culminating in a disorganized siege committed by refugees, eager to secure themselves the surplus of supplies they falsely believed the Latourelles had. Ophélie would manage to flee as the manor itself was breached, her Mother slain in the ensuing chaos.
2002-2004
Alone, starving, and unlikely to survive for long, a young Ophélie blindly stumbled northwards through a broken world, tagging along and falling out with desperate refugee caravans all bound for the fabled city of Paris, where it was reported the army remained and held out against the alien blight. Meals were scarce, and morale was low, yet through sheer luck, youthful brashness, the young woman would cheat death; though not without many close calls.
In Lyon, the group she traveled with quickly dwindled down to a measly ragtag seven including herself due to unyielding attacks from both Human and not, who would all subsequently scatter in hopes of being better on their own. On her own yet again, she traveled along mostly empty city street, avoiding anyone who stalked about. Yet despite her efforts of caution and avoiding others, a group would chase her down, hellbent on relieving her of what few belongings she possessed-- none of which were of any value. In a desperate escape attempt, she'd move through an abandoned apartment building, only to discover she'd been purposefully lured there, with one of them waiting for her inside. In full sprint, she accidently knocked into them, and sent them toppling down a flight of stairs, and they did not get back up. She fled through a window, continuing on her trek out of the city.
Many places along the road from there would be full of encounters will alien lifeforms, luckily none of which were particularly deadly, nor interested in her. She'd meet up with another caravan, only for them to be attacked in the night outside of Courtenay just a week later of travel by a group of headcrabs and zombies as they slept. A fleeing Ophélie would rush headlong into a necrotic infested city, bobbing and weaving through narrow streets with what were once people stumbles after her all while battling her own exhaustion.
Back on the highway, she would meet up with yet another band of refugees, who should would remain with until they reached the outskirts of Paris, eventually making their way to a refugee camp set up by L'Armée Française in the commune of Créteil, where conditions were no better then out on the road and an almost equal amount of food. It is here, amongst the squalor tent city where disease ran rampant and bodies piled higher then cleaning crews could collect them, she would find and subsequently be reunited with her Father.
The Seven Hour War 2004
A sleepless night spent holding onto her Father tightly as distant explosions rocked the earth to it's core. The army had all but abandoned the camp at this point, moved to the city's heart for their futile final stand. She and her Father would seek shelter in the sewers of Crétail, a decision that would save their lives, as for once the dust had settled and they returned topside, only cinders and corpses remained of the camp they had took refuge in. Blindly the pair stumbled through the decrepit ruins of Paris's for days until apprehended by the newly formed Civil Protection.
Reunification 2004-2007
Allowed to remain with her Father, Ophélie would be kept inside their dingy, decrepit flat at the request of her Father, who would rather sleep in ration lines then at home, all in the pursuit of ensuring his remaining child may perhaps live and prosper in the newly founded world. Isolated from society, an already broken Ophélie would content herself with sweeping and cooking whenever she was given ingredients to do so, becoming a reclusive, selective mute, much to the dismay of her Father, who struggled to get her to speak to even him. Life would remain stagnant and purposeless for three grueling years, which would see the rapid decline of her Father's health, but as well as his reputation amongst the local administration, who had taken a liking to him for his past career as a politician and renowned people pleaser antics, soon ascending into their ranks.
2007-2017
Granted finer living quarters and given a decent pay, alongside loyalist rations, life in some part had began to mirror the past. High society slowly returned to Paris thanks to the loyalist system, and with it came the painful memories of what the Latourelles had lost. Her Father was hit especially hard, who despite seeming happy in public, often spent nights weeping with a bottle in hand. Despite this, he still made sure to care for his Daughter, bringing Ophélie out into loyalist society despite earlier reluctance, where she would painfully slowly acclimate herself back to the social life, albeit now with a severe stutter and an overall timid demeanor.
Though life had improved drastically, cracks would quickly begin to form in the ceiling through the years. Her Father's alcoholism would accelerate, and as would his deteriorating health with it. His vice brought him deeper and deeper into his depression which had started back in 2001, and soon found himself in trouble with the Administration, letting those bribe with him booze so that he may continue to feed his addiction. One of his most egregious offenses was organizing the arrest of a business owner at the behest of another, who promised him free drinks for a month. The CCA would strip him of his job upon this discovery, as well as had the Civil Protection drag him kicking and screaming, with his Daughter close in toe. They would be separated, and she forcefully relocated to Geneva.
She steps off the train, alone and scared again, feeling as if she's back in the French countryside, facing down death once more.
Character relations (Ask, and I shall add) LOVESADMIRESRESPECTSBEST FRIENDFRIENDACQUAINTANCEDISTRUSTSDISLIKESHATESDECEASED
Prolétariat
(The Layman, the lower caste) Akira Ovariss
To think, me asking some silly question after a work shift could lead to such blossoming friendship. You have been there for my highs and my lows ever since I stepped off that train, and for such I am eternally grateful.
Gone without notice, long disappeared. Why bother if they inevitably vanish?
ThomasCarter
A man with the charm and personality of the men back in Marseille. Despite hardship and trouble thrown his way, he always has a warm smile to offer.
He has been missing for weeks now, and I fear the worst. A kind Officer told me his CID is still active, however all his transactions have entirely ceased since early April. I am left to pray in hopes that he is still out there. Without him, I think my days will always be a little darker.
Time passes, and it is almost as if I have forgotten you entirely. I want to cry.
WilliamBrown
A true pillar of the community, seemingly known and liked by all, except perhaps those who he rather liberally slings colorful slurs at. I see William as a man who many ought to aspire to be more like, much as I do.
Another friendly face lost to time.
SamuelCorbett
A perhaps odd, though obviously well-intentioned man. I may not know him, nor particularly his internal personal beliefs all that well, but he has shown his support for the people and their struggle, and thus has earned himself my respect.
Where are you now?
Carrie "Cole" Phelps
The woman responsible for me having a bed to sleep on and a roof over my head during my first few weeks in the city. Without her, I like to think I would probably be dead. I would be lying if I said I knew her well, but she was kind on the few occasions we spoke, and offered me comfort after Rachael's incident-- only to be gunned down mere hours later. I know little of the circumstances, though William told me it had to do with snitching and a loved one. Wherever you are, I hope you know your legacy lives on.
Lukas Stevenson
Current owner of the Homeless shelter in the slums, the one I took refuge in on my first few weeks, back when Cole was at the helm. Despite many adversities, Lukas has done a good job at picking up the pieces from what I can tell, and it brings me great joy knowing that my donations are feeding the needy and the impoverished, whose ranks I once stood amongst not so long ago. Lukas has been pleasant to talk to on all occasions, though I fear I don't know him well enough to consider him a friend, our talks are often short, moreso just an exchange of pleasantries, followed by my donations. I only hope my charity is not willingly reaching the eager hands of violent insurgents with little regard for the innocents that live and frequent Victory and Triumph.
I have not seen you for ages, and the homeless shelter sits vacant. I fear the worse. We keep losing good men.
Only recently have I learned of your passing. You deserved better. Au revoir.
Julia Jerhedt
Yet to be written... sadge
RachaelCrossley
When you asked me for a piece of paper, I thought nothing of it. You abused my naivety, yet I feel only guilt in the end. Never has my heart dropped as hard as it did while standing in the ration line, listening to the others speak of a suicide just upstairs, only moments after we had spoken, and you had so eagerly taken the newly bought piece of paper I had gotten for you. You wasted no time to put it to good use, clearly. I hope only you find more peace in death, then you did in life. Sometimes, I even think you’re amongst the lucky.
With every day that passes, I wish more and more I was in your shoes. Truly an envious disposition.
Claire Lavoie
A kind woman I met at the Pint. Though I find some of her mannerisms odd, especially her insistence on calling me dear and other little names, Claire has proved herself to be kindhearted and caring, going so far as to keep herself at tier 2 so that she may go into the slums and aid with the shelter. I am happy to call her a friend, even if we have not known each other for all that long
Aria Morris
A real merrymaker if I have ever met one. She's nice enough and invites me out to drink, which I appreciate greatly even if I'm not a huge fan and both instances that I accepted ended poorly for the us two. Despite my reclusiveness you seem to take faith in me and enjoy my company, as I do yours. I only wish your lust for the swill kept yourself and others out of trouble.
Nikola Ratimiri
I know not when we met, but Nikola has been kind at all times, even once helped me to my apartment after Aria dragged me into the slums to drink-- one of the few times I have ever been drunk, and hopefully the last, I have no intention of following in my Father's footsteps. I don't particularly know him well, yet his friendly demeanor and disposition certainly makes him someone that I feel inclined to put faith in-- Kind people are those who I like to have as company, after all.
Charlotte McMadison
One of a myriad of weary faces in a crowd of millions, yet this one is not a stranger, even if I do not know her all that well. She is friendly, and while clearly not as timid as me, doesn't strike me as particularly outgoing-- a cause of slight concern for me, for a feel this might be to her detriment, as it has been mine in many cases before and likely in the future. I'm glad you entrusted me enough to talk about your and Claire's assault however. I value your trust, and will not take it lightly. I do hope we can get to know each other a little better, my number of friends of the same sex seem to diminish every few weeks...
RoyJackson
The biggest enigma to ever grace the face of earth. A man who claims that happiness is an unworthy pursuit and finds amusement in enabling a broken woman's alcoholism. I do not know what to think of him, but I know I don't want him as a friend, nor particularly in my presence. He reeks of unfounded smugness and elitism, I half expect to see him amongst them too, at some point. Also called me "Little rabbit" and said "I had become quite entertaining". I half belief he is some sort of sociopath, yet he gave me some tea and seems overall harmless enough.
Timothy Taylor
A friend of Sven's and frequent visitor at the Pint, even if he rarely makes a purchase. Seems typical for the usual rank and file, kind enough with a verbose vocabulary of words fit only on the docks of small fishing towns, where not even God could cleanse them of their foul words. I am not one to judge someone for making use of words one would not find within the bible however, plus he is-- or I like to believe he is a fellow countryman, as evident by his ability to speak French.
L'Aristocratie (Loyalist party) Kevin Campbell
There is a special place in hell reserved for your ilk. I hope your arrival is speedy.
Sven Aalto
An odd, perhaps foolhardy man who I have come to call a friend. Though I wish the best for him, I fear his incessant paranoia will extinguish all the joie de vivre he possessed when we first met, if it hasn’t already. I doubly fear his attempt to surround himself with those he trusts will result in them all going down with his sinking ship, a ship I have refused to board.
It's no secret you've taken a liking to me Sven, and while I am immensely flattered to the extent words cannot describe, I'm hesitant to embark on romance, as I have been for all my life. To say I'm scared would be an understatement, simply talking to people is horrifying enough. I do not wish to disappoint you, but I'm don't believe I'm quite ready for romance. Perhaps some other time.
The first man to ever confess his love for me lays dead, and a most stupid death at that. He could not die a hero, nor in a dignified manner. He leaves behind a handful of friends, who will most likely drink themselves until they forget his name. Varna claims another corpse, not the first, not the last. Your struggle is over, dearest Sven, and I hope now you may rest easy. There is no Union to keep you awake at night in death. Repos bien, mon petit soldat.
Damarco Hikins
An old friend, perhaps even the first man I met upon arrival, sharing the warmth of a fire barrel in the slums as a German woman regaled us with tall tales of the rampant prostitution in City 36. It is encouraging knowing my peers are mostly familiar faces, and you one of my bosses.
John Walker
A regular at the Pint. I don't know where I met him, but he knows my name and I know his, even if I don't remember when and where I learned it. He seems nice enough from what few words we've exchanged, though watching him poison himself in the corner is a painful spectacle-- yet, were it not for my abhorrence towards alcohol, I could easily envision myself doing the same.
SallyPeters
A hotheaded woman, who once possessed a passion for work, now turned alcoholic and liver destroyer. Though I would like to call her a friend, I feel like she views me as simply some fool to be toyed with and used as she pleases. Calling me a nervous bitch also won’t easily be forgotten, nor forgiven. Regardless, like a fool that she might consider me, I can’t help but be sympathetic
You've apologized for the previous blunder, and I like to believe you were honest about it. I've put a lot of faith in you by hiring you and already you've shown a few troubling signs, I only hope I can perhaps tame the beast before I have to do anything I won't want to. As long as she remains sober and willing to change, I believe I can make a model employee out of her, hopefully.
I want to believe you live, sincerely. But if you do, you are likely not in the city, and you will likely not be coming back to inform me how how you are. Though our first few encounters were hardly pleasant, I did dearly appreciate your company, as insufferable as I'm sure I was. Be safe, friend.
Alive and well, with job and lavish housing. You rose while I stagnated, thinking your corpse lie rotting in the bowels of the city. it's good to have you back.
Elias Siemens
A kind man who I have known longer than most. He has consistently shown compassion, and proven himself a humble man, leading a simple life while uplifting those around him. We seem to share a lot in common, both in interests, personal philosophy and values. I am happy to call him a friend.
As many of my friends make themselves scarce, you have always stuck around. I am blessed beyond what words can described, and forever thankful people can view me more than the stuttering idiot I see myself as. It's endearing, it inspires me to crawl out of bed no matter how much I desire to lay there until I grow cold, and my eyes glaze over.
My emotions got the best of me. I couldn't continue the line of work you thought I enjoyed. You probably think me the biggest idiot alive, and I am a little too apprehensive to test my theory.
As it turns out, there was no judgement passed, it's as if a day has not passed, although now Elias finds himself incredibly busy-- a repeating trend with many, hard to sit down and have a talk. It's good to know you live, the city would be far less tolerable without you.
Gendarmerie (Our Protectors)
C24:i3.JURY-2
Perhaps one of the few Officers of the Civil Protection I in good faith can say I trust. They have been nothing but friendly to me and my friends, as well as helpful when I needed their aid. He is also one of the few people who will entertain a conversation with me in my native tongue, which I don’t get to do nearly as much as I would enjoy. Though I may not know the man inside the suit, he gives me reason to believe that the Civil Protection can do good, despite its flaws.
C24:i3.VICE-4
Crude Officer. Called me Mrs. Baguette and a disgrace to the people of France. If It's possible to avoid him, I will do so liberally.
Mystery Officer
You had the full opportunity to ruin what little of a meager life I have managed to create for myself here in City 24, yet you did not. For that, you have my thanks.
I enjoyed our conversation at the Pint, it was rather cathartic. Never have I before nor likely will I ever again let my guard down in front of an Officer as much as I did then. I only hope I don't come to regret my actions.
I never had much trouble identifying you before, but now I'm certain you're the one dawning the blue epaulettes, and are also the only one I've ever seen with such an outfit. It's of some comfort, knowing that I can easily find you if need be.
You've quickly surpassed synth cop as my favorite. You may claim to be a bad man, but I sincerely believe that behind the mask, under all that shoe polish and kevlar, there is a man with great empathy not even he is aware of. I like to think that perhaps in a different world he would have dedicated himself to the betterment of society-- and perhaps he has in this one, though he is forced to also do the exact opposite, whether he likes it or not.
You live. You live, it's you, undoubtedly you. Long I had thought you had gone elsewhere, or had died, with the possibility of us crossing paths nigh-impossible. But you live, yet we could not speak for long, bittersweet au revoir. We'll meet again, we must. City Administration
LaurentisHeartwick
Our Administrator. I do not know him personally. I have never met him personally. I do not want to meet him personally. All who talk to him tout him as a madman and a zealot, and such a description seems apt. A man who supposedly hates those beneath him-- how is a man who hates his subjects fit to rule? But then again, perhaps that is the perfect candidate the Union needs to further their goals. Goals which do not benefit me nor the people around me.
After digging around, Var Ras has informed me that you were indeed present for the burning of the homeless shelter, donning a gas mask because you dare not breath the same air as us, as if we are all pox-carrying plaguebearers. You are repugnant. It is a shame that the same cannot be done to you as was done to Louis XVI, a fitting fate for evil such as yourself
Espèce de merde
Bernard Mulligan
Though I may not support the institution you work for and dedicate yourself to, in my experience Mister Mulligan has been nothing but kind and gentlemanly. If I were able to get to know you, I like to think maybe you would agree on some of my philosophies, yet these thoughts are but mere daydreams, for despite your kind exterior, I have need see the man inside, and to put blind faith in a man such as he is a dangerous endeavour.
ZoeyGrodno
The woman who has given me a chance to work with little question except for my name and CID. She has given me an opportunity that I will be eternally grateful for. Though working at the Pint may not be the most exciting, nor fulfilling, I no longer have to sleep in the slums, nor in a cot in the back of the kitchen which she so graciously allowed me to use. I would like to call her a friend, though I'm afraid I don't really know her all that well to say so in good confidence.
IanDarwin
A man with what I can only describe to be a very thin façade of personality. What some might see as a kind exterior I view as a shield to the real person inside, I have met many of their ilk and he strikes me as no different. Perhaps with time my perception of him could change, but unfortunately I doubt I'll be given much of a chance to get to know him anymore then I did during my time during Who Wants To Be A Collaborator. I'm also quite certain parts of that show were rigged, I vaguely remember one of the staff saying how Mister Waltman was innocent despite them having dragged him off to a cozy cell. It may be entertainment but I see it only as some freakshow circus, for the elite to laugh amongst each other at.
Combine Civil Administration
Your purpose is to serve the Union, not the people. While you may at times do things that aid the everyman, you do it only when it serves the interests of our Benefactors.
War mongering elitist in their ivory towers playing a game of chess outsiders like myself cannot comprehend. To what ends must we suffer for whatever petty victory you so desperately desire?
LegislativeAssembly
Slow to act, ineffective, inefficient, and fixated on nonsensical affairs that matter little and help no one. What could be a force of good is mostly stagnant grace to the many members within it, who rather focus on playing a competition of who is the better collaborator, rather then improving life in the city. Even Zoey, who I respect, strikes me as someone who might be reluctant to shoot down all of these displays of stupidity and move onto issues of actual concern.
Coles Homeless Shelter
The place I called home for my first week or so in the city. I greatly respect what they’re doing, so much so that I go out of my way to donate food now that I’m rather well off, I only hope this food doesn’t fall into the hand of terrorists.
Gone, just like every owner that tried to keep it afloat. I am unsure what's scarier: the thought new arrivals like I once was will have no roof over their head, or the fact everyone has already forgotten they exist.
Civil Workers Union
They provide work for the citizenry, yet for my first week they hardly ever had enough work for the eager masses, myself included.
Civil Medical Union
My feelings on the clinic are mixed, moreso out of simple ignorance more than anything. I know little of the people who work there, but they have saved lives in the past, and have even patched me up after a work incident.
Civil Protection
There are good men and women amongst your ranks, no doubt about it, but they are a minority. The power hungry and overzealous everyman flock to join your ranks, and too often they are allowed to abuse the citizenry without
Recently you have all been on a frenzy. Eight of your Officers have attacked a friend and her employee unprovoked. My friend had to spend the night in the clinic because of their actions. Greatest of all apparently now Officers aided the Constabulary with burning down the shelter. I am still of the belief that there are good men amongst you, but those who are not are truly wicked, they do not deserve to be called Protectors.
Overwatch Transhumanist Arm
Robotic soldiers armed with the finest weaponry the Union has to offer. Their cold and lifeless demeanor makes the hairs on my neck stand on end, yet despite it they have for the most part been far more cordial then some of the Civil Protection Officers. Regardless, I fear them, as should anyone else. The large alien guns and black steely armor send a clear message: Cold killers, who will fire indiscriminately when ordered without ever flinching. God have mercy on those who have to stare down the barrels of their guns.
Department Of Business
Though I don’t fully understand your purpose, you provide job opportunities for hard working citizens, including myself, and have allowed me to rise from a state of utter poverty, as well as my friend.
My old friend. It's good to see you, even if none of the faces are particularly familiar.
The Civic Alliance
I deeply believe this could be a source of good, though I fear the status of its members may serve to delegitimize it. I may not be one for politics, but I trust Akira to make something worthwhile.
Your leader is absence, and the age of politics have passed. Union mandate is all that will now be tolerated. You will live on in the minds of few, and be quickly forgotten. Rest well.
Resistance
Though your cause may be noble, your methods are not. Bombing buildings and putting the lives of innocents at risks is not a cause I in good faith can support. The Union is here to stay, whether we like them or not, and I’m not sure if the ends justify the means.
As time passes I find myself more and more sympathetic to your cause, but your methods aid none. All roads lead to many dead.
Geneva Constabulary Force
A mob of sharply dressed, legally-sanctioned thugs hellbent on spitting on those beneath them. They are self-serving and care nothing for the layman. I doubt they even care for the Union either, only to inflate their egos and whatever they consider “Civilized” society. On more than one occasion they have followed me around, harassed me and tried to get me in trouble at work. I detest them and everything they stand for. May the ground open up at their feet and swallow them whole.
You burned down the homeless shelter. I refuse to believe it was the Officers idea, you are surely at fault. You have endangered the lives of countless people, none of whom are a threat to you, but only a threat to your inflated egos. Someone ought to burn your homes down, scum. There is no justice in the world.
24th MilitantArm-Arteria
Another army built upon the backs of young men, eager to lay down their lives for a cause greater then them-- a cause they are often too blind to see is stupid. Just as the great General Napoleon once sent young men to die for his mighty Empire, the Union will do the same. The men within your ranks may be good at heart, but they are under the command of the union, and will serve their interests lest they face punishment. La rue a l'enfer est pavé de bonnes intentions. Je vous souhaite la bonne chance et que dieu vous ramène viva
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