Age| 19
Gender| Female
Dorm| 31
Time at Greyson Reformatory| Three years
Abilities| Technopathy. Her range of access is currently unknown, and what it is exactly that she's capable of doing isn't fully understood. However, she's been barred from direct access to any electronics provided by the Reformatory and other delinquents, although it doesn't stop her.
Personality| She's very introverted with a somewhat cold demeanor, and never speaks. (She's not mute; it's, for the most part, by choice.) If she does talk, she has a soft, almost weak and monotonous voice. It's difficult to make her angry, sad, happy â nearly impossible to get Sasha to exhibit any kind of emotion, really â and she trusts absolutely no one. Don't feel bad if she ignores you, either. It's not just you. She doesn't like anyone. (At least she doesn't like harming anyone, either.)
Sasha likes sweets and flowers; namely flowers that she could keep in her hair if she wanted. She also likes small animals; ones she can pick up and hold, even if she doesn't smile at them, will bring her joy and some semblance of relaxation in reality. Aside from things she can touch, Sasha takes great solace in the technology surrounding her, sometimes hiding away for days on end. Technology is where she leaves her emotions behind, the burdens of reality melting around her while she makes herself increasingly more at home. She can play online games to entertain herself if she ever needs to remember that other people exist, too. She enjoys being able to anonymously submit her works. No one knows she's impure. No one knows she's a (wrongly) convicted felon. No bothersome people besides the trolls and occasional horny boy, and they're just as easy to ignore as the real world for her. No one can hurt her.
History| Sasha was a maid, for all intents and purposes, but a daughter in title. She was taken from the slums around the time she was four years old, adopted by a politician by the name of Alan Ramsey. He witnessed her playing with broken electronics, almost communicating with them as she made them work like new, and believed that her powers could be put to use. Sasha was familiarized with the Ramsey family's home technology, and when she turned six she started working housekeeping and security by managing the various electronics across the home. Her powers were assisted further via a pair of glasses that her adoptive father gave her, allowing her to tap into any network around her (cellular or short-range) with a heads-up display in the right lens and its own hard drive. (She's worn them so long, she can't see very well without now.) The Ramseys even had a room redesigned for Sasha to work in.
When off-duty, she acted and was treated like the Ramseys' daughter; the younger one, at least. She made quick friends with their real daughter, Sydney (two years older), and they shared nearly everything, from toys and interests to their education, thanks to homeschooling. The latter even helped with the chores Sasha would regularly be tasked with. Growing up, they were closer than any of the friends Sydney'd made. By the time Sasha was twelve, it could have even been safe to say that they loved each other in a way that looked past their surname, and they had an emotional security in each other that they couldn't even hold with their parents. She wasn't considered a mutant, and she wasn't special; they were equals, sharing their lives.
All of these things, prejudices and the realization that she's impure, came back around four years later. Alan was still in politics when he hit his forties, and he had some tough competition for his platform â thanks to Sasha and Sydney, he wanted to better the care of mutants and better control over violence amongst mutants, and many were against him, including former supporters who believed the violence would help "weed out the stupid ones". Some were radicals. Some were borderline psychotic about the matter. Alan Ramsey died the night after a fierce debate, and Sasha was the scapegoat. She lost her sense of self; she lost the trust of her family â Sydney especially, who was unable to form a proper opinion due to grief; Sydney never wanted to see her again.
Charged with murder of the first degree, extremists wanted her to die in the chair, but there was more than enough evidence to prove her innocence. However, instead of acquitting her, the judge and jury were just as discriminatory, and Sasha was sentenced to "rehabilitation" at the Greyson Reformatory. She was only allowed her glasses upon arrival.
Sasha stopped speaking before the hearing was even adjourned. She had no remorse, and didn't apologize for a crime she didn't commit; she just remained emotionless, like she was off in her own little world. The warden has never heard her voice, nor have the other inmates. In her silence, she'd confine herself to her room and namelessly hack into the Reformatory's PC and other tech (the security system, for example), augmented through her glasses. She took up a sense of artistry, etching what she saw in her mind onto pixels. She wrote, transcribing her words onto the endless digital pages. She hid her works, and no one's gotten into them. Anyone that found them was faced with being unable to delete them, and unable to open them due to the various ciphers and encryption methods employed â something that may have worked for one would have failed horribly with another, and may have even distorted the work to look like something else entirely.
In her digital exploration, Sasha found many things, including classified documents and information about the rest of the world. The names and information gathered on the inmates as they came and left, to name one, and more sensitive documents about the government's less public actions, including work about the Reformatory. However, for most of it, she added more powerful encryption to the latter, because it was "too easy to break into," she rationalized. Even the staff can't get into it now, though, because the key required is physical, rather than digital.
Secrets| Concerning Sasha, virtually everything about her life is a secret. She was registered as a live-in housekeeper instead of an adopted daughter, and nothing she's witnessed within the Reformatory has escaped her.
Fears| Much like how she'd abandoned showing emotion, Sasha abandoned the idea of fear. She has no loved ones to worry for, and she has no worries for her own life. Shortly after her sentence, she even welcomed the idea of being murdered herself. She simply doesn't care anymore.
Height| 158cm (~5'2")
Build| Slim, with a thin layer of exercised muscle. Baggy clothes aside, she looks malnourished to some degree, as you can see her ribs bulging through the skin, and it isn't uncommon to see her with bags under her eyes.