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"Really living the life."

0 · 460 views · located in The Wasteland

a character in “A Gifted World”, as played by Miss Echo


Full Name: Harlyn Lila Enright

Nicknames/Aliases: Harley, Harl, Epsilon

Age: 38

Gender: Female

Gift: Ability to weaponize everyday objects

Loyalty: Herself and her own, these days.

Description: Epsilon’s form is one built by years of conflict, exercise, and the life of an ashlander. She stands at roughly 6’0”, solidly built, with scarred tan skin and a face that, while worn and rough, still manages to be welcoming and amiable in its own right. She has straight black hair that reaches the center of her back, typically kept braided for easier management, and warm hazel eyes. Epsilon dresses herself in worn denim jeans, short sleeved shirts, and hiking boots, and often keeps a traveler’s bag slung over her shoulder when outside of wherever she’s currently residing.

Personality: Epsilon is, by nature, a friendly- if not rugged and slightly strange- woman by nature. While lacking the patience to properly navigate whatever social life she manages to scrape up, and not someone one would consider the kindest, she carries with her a certain open and easy air around most. This extends to allies, strangers, and, most oddly, even old enemies of hers when she stumbles upon them. For all of her affable demeanor, however, Epsilon is violent, taking a certain pleasure in conflict- although she does not actively seek it out, preferring it to come to her than the other way around.

- Skilled combatant.

- Epsilon’s ability to weaponize is not limited to simple creativity with pipes and pencils. If, for instance, she were to have a few blueberries and a soda straw in her possession, her Gift would make it possible for her to turn the berries into a sort of bullet, then fire them at high speeds from the straw- effectively turning it into a makeshift pistol. Or, if she had a book, she could tear out the pages and use them as blades or throwing knives.

- Unfazed in the face of bloodshed.

- A deep maternal love and affection for Delta.

- Untrusting of strangers.

- While resourceful, Epsilon is still very much mortal.

Brief History:
Harlyn’s roots lie in a small community that exists deep within the ashland’s grasp, made up of men and women of various skills, occupations, and interests, but sharing one thing in common- the strength of their Gifts. The village is composed primarily of those with weaker abilities than most, such as being able to pull music from thin air, or have an immediate understanding of any languages one comes across. The only individual with any noteworthy power is their leader, who can, depending on who currently holds the role, have Gifts rivaling those of a high ranking faction member. Any children within this community born stronger than their parents are presented with a choice when they come of age: to either fight the current leader to the death in an attempt to take the position for themselves, or leave the village, finding their life elsewhere.

Epsilon, the result of a union between a ribbon-making Gifted and a low level pyrokinetic, was among the children presented the choice. Instead of risking her life in a vie for leadership, she decided to take her chances in leaving. While many of her fellow exiles chose to join one faction or the other, Epsilon took up both a living as a soldier of fortune, and her current moniker, which she uses even now in place of her name.

A few years into the war, she happened across a child in the more barren side of the wastes. The child was starved and injured, and, pitying her, Epsilon offered food and shelter. What was intended to be a temporary stay before she turned the girl into a faction for safekeeping turned into weeks of Epsilon tending to the child, then months, then years. Eventually, it was hard for her to deny that the mute little girl- now christened Delta- was hers. With this revelation, Epsilon retired from her work as a mercenary, and now spends her time attempting to be as best of a guardian figure as one can be in the wasteland.

Needless to say, these efforts aren’t necessarily the best.

- Smokes
- Enjoys tea-making as a hobby.
- Understands sign language, and can sign herself if she so desired.

So begins...

Epsilon's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Delta Character Portrait: Epsilon Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Blood wet the ash. It was a dark and fresh and heavy, mingling with the dirt and staining it a deep maroon. It wasn’t the first time the wastes had sampled death, and if it was the last, then Epsilon would eat her own shoe.

Well. Maybe not. They were rather good shoes, after all, and would probably be a pain in the ass to replace out here. She ground her heel into a nearby stone, taking pleasure in the suppleness of the leather. Yes, they were very good shoes indeed. Just like this house had been a very good house, and the small little garden in the front, fenced off with pikes of wood and rusted wire, had been a very good garden. They- “they” being Epsilon and her protege, Delta- had found the place nearly a year back, and had been fixing it up since. The building was small, with only a few rooms, and the windows had long since fallen out, but it had a nice little tin roof to keep out heavier weather, and even a water pump right out front. There was even a supermarket nearby, although it was of little purpose nowadays. All worthwhile supplies had been picked clean, and the only thing left now was rotted meats and rats.

Once, Epsilon recalled, they had settled in a supermarket. Thrown out all the bad food, tidied it up some, then set up inside. It had been a decent home for a few months, camping out on musty mattresses in the back rooms, but supermarkets attracted raiders like honey does flies. Combine that with the base being too large to defend, and the two were evicted before spring.

The raiders had found this place, too. She found herself eyeing the left side of the house, which had fallen outward in the fight, slumping over like some great concrete beast. A thin dusting of spores had coated it, and no breeze had come yet to send them off. A good sign, Epsilon thought. A dust storm was the last thing they needed now.

She had found herself so deep in thought that when the whistle came, she found herself starting a bit- although she quickly relaxed upon seeing the younger girl walk into view, shovel in hand. Shaking her head, Epsilon strode to meet the distance, stopping a few feet short in front of the other.

“They taken care of?” Epsilon asked. The girl, Delta, gave the affirmative with a nod of her head. In a movement that seemed somewhat awkward, she tucked the shovel safely into the crook of her arm, and raised her hands in swift, jerky movements.

I buried all of them near the boulder. Put a pile of rocks on them, too. Needed to hide the dirt. Epsilon grinned in response, then, dragging her tongue against her palm, planted her own hand upon Delta’s crop of hair and mussed it up.

“Atta girl,” she said. “Go ahead and break that if you can- thing’s too big for us to carry. Then go grab your things, we’re leaving in eight.” Epsilon paused, in thought, then added, “Oh, and make sure to wash up real quick if you can, eh? You smell like an ape.”

Says the person who sat back and watched while I did all the slave work. You must be getting old.

“And you’re getting lazy.” Epsilon reached forward to box Delta on the ear, but the kid managed to duck away just in time, swatting away the offending hand just to be safe. Cocky little shit. “But really, go back in. Might be the last chance we’ll get to freshen up in a while.” After trying to get her own punch in (which Epsilon quickly deflected. Needed to remind the kid who was boss, after all), Delta obediently went back into the ruins of their home. Epsilon watched her go for a few moments, then began to go through their supplies again while she waited.

It was after she had made sure that nothing had somehow magically teleported into oblivion for the eighth time that the kid returned. I left a note, Delta explained. Crystal might have thought that we died.

Oh, crap. The other kid. While they were on much better terms now than when they had first met, and while Epsilon had developed a kind of appreciation for the teen, she wasn’t at the forefront of her mind after fending off a hostile raider invasion. Plus, they hadn’t really had to worry about keeping in contact with anyone else for a long, long time. Still, Epsilon nodded as if she had been on the same page the entire time, and, to further cement the concept, added, “Good idea. Was just about to do that, myself.”

Delta simply rolled her eyes.

Nevertheless, Epsilon did contribute in the end, adding a small burlap sack of goods below the note. A sort of last “hurrah and thank you” kind of deal. With that done and done, the two prepared to set out. According to the map, there had been a tiny baby town some miles to the west- they could visit it and go from there, easy enough.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Delta Character Portrait: Elliot Barnett Character Portrait: Epsilon Character Portrait: Crystal Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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They had been making decent progress since the morning began. Ash turned to weeds, parched and yellow, weeds turned to scrub, and scrub steadily gave way to well and proper thickets. Nothing impressive by any means, but it was enough to offer some reprieve from the sun, which had become harsh and stifling as the day went on. Twice, Epsilon had noted the rustle as a rabbit or some other rodent darted out of sight, and Delta had pointed out a batch of naturally growing fungus at the base of a fallen log. A good sign. Even if they were just passing through, the soil was rich, and they could easily add to their stock if they so desired. Plus, unless there was a plant Gifted hiding somewhere, a place like this meant freshwater, which was precious.

Some ways into their trek, a new sound began to rise over the leaves rustling and the local wildlife screaming for someone to come and fuck them: voices. The two immediately stopped where they were, melting into what foliage the forest offered. They waited there for several minutes, and, once enough time passed to satisfy her, Epsilon quietly raised a hand and ushered the other forward. They crept a bit further, avoiding the visibly drier leaves scattered across the ground, and from there, observed.

It was a boy, as the voice had told. A young one, too, by the looks of it, probably around Delta’s age. He was leaning over something- no, someone. A girl. Recognition spiked through Delta, and, as the younger of the two women turned towards the other, she saw that she didn’t need to tell Epsilon- there was a pleasant sort of surprise in her face, and, upon meeting Delta’s gaze, she signed, Guess we didn’t need that note after all.

Of course, it was always possible that it was a shifter, Epsilon mused. Then proceeded to walk into view anyway, tread purposefully heavy. One hand moved to usher Delta behind her- much to the teen’s annoyance- and the other, her left, produced a toothpick from her pocket.

“That you, Crys?” She spoke loudly; a booming, hearty kind of tone. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing any familiar faces all the way outt’ere.” She did not acknowledge Crystal’s position, nor the boy beside her. The most Epsilon did to show she was even aware of the stranger’s presence was a brief look over, and little else.

Delta, however, did the exact opposite. She had nodded towards their trade partner, given an almost awkward wave, but her eyes remained affixed on the boy. There was a certain wariness about her, similar to that of a wild animal trying to determine a threat, and, combined with the shoddiness of her clothes and sloppy cut of her hair, the resemblance only grew. While she had developed enough of a trust of Crystal to not answer the door with a crowbar in hand (purposefully, of course. Old habits die hard), Delta was a wastelander. Anyone unfamiliar was a threat and then some, with little exception.

Beside her, Epsilon idly picked her teeth, trying to get at a particularly stubborn scrap of food lodged there.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Delta Character Portrait: Elliot Barnett Character Portrait: Epsilon Character Portrait: Crystal Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Crystal's let out a noise of protest as she ran smack dab into Elliot. "Urgh" Standing up and brushing herself off she begain to pick up tools. "Look I have a meeting with important people and if I mess it then they are going to think I'm dead, betrayed them, or worse late and if I'm late my product might be gone. You have no idea how important my pro.... " She paused for a moment cocking her head to the side as if hearing something. With a quick motion she made sure the bunker hatch was closed before returning to where she had been standing.

Acting natural she kept talking but cocked her head to the side a subtitle motion to the strange noise she heard. Causally Reaching into her pocket she wrapped a hand around a weapon ready to strike if needed. That need never came as those she heard revealed themselves and surprisingly were familiar to her.

With a bounce as she strategically moved between them and Elliot. To protect Elliot or to protect them from Elliot the purpose was unclear. "Hey guys! I didn't expect you two to be out here. How are my two future drug cartel suppliers doing." The smile and jab to the words meant they weren't serious at all. However there was a twist to them, a way for her to reassure the more nervous of the two she was indeed herself. "What are you guys doing all the way out here, I'm not that late am I?" The sparkle of mischief never left her eyes as she watched the pair.

As she followed Delta's gaze. "Oh he's cool Del, just another one of my trading partners don't mind him. Meet Eli my favorite tool dealer! I keep telling him he should make a giant sculpture dedicated to me but he never listens to my reasonable request." While Crystal trusted Delta and Epsilion with her own well being she was not about to trust them with Elliot's, Lydia's, Jimmy's, or Mariana's lives without their consent.