Josephine Slater

"My name is Mist.."

0 · 186 views · located in Moscow, Russia, 2021

a character in “Haze: The Administrator”, originally authored by Akantha, as played by RolePlayGateway


Josephine "Mist" Slater


20 Years Old


5' 4"

112.3 lbs

Mist is a sight for sore eyes, delicate and intensely colored. Her dyed pink hair that comes flowing down her back and over her shoulders only frames her heart-shaped face. Her eyes pierce the darkest shadows as they seem to glow electric blue but that's only the effect they present as they are a rather bright color. Her lips are a dewy pink and her skin is creamy pale.Her skin appears flawless but she has scars hidden underneath her clothes. Most of the time, she seems aloof and spaced out but upon closer inspection of her face you can see that she hides many things and is quite observant as her gaze darts to each thing that interests her and has a quality of focus that is rare. Her skinny frame seems almost breakable with the way her slender shoulders and rangy form slightly bounces as she walks. Anyone hugging her would feel like they were holding glass. A rare sight that sometimes occurs when a friend is out for a walk is of her perched in her favorite place gazing up at the moon, eyes absorbing the silvery light and casting her form in shadows and light. It's actually quite creepy and moving at the same time.

Black leggings, black lace tank top, black boots that are a mix between combat and heeled, and a pink hoodie. Her relaxed outfit is composed of an ankle-length white dress, or jean shorts and a pink tank top with a black hoodie.

At first glance, Mist seems aloof and always spaced out, with her head in the clouds somewhere. However she's an odd girl with a slightly tomboyish twist. She isn't afraid to get dirty and is rarely phased by dangerous or strange things. Some people think that her sense of danger is nearly nonexistent as she simply does as she pleases and gets into all sorts of trouble. Also, her pattern of speech is nonchalant and carefree as she often says whatever comes to mind. Some of her closest friends keep a close eye on her because of this. Although Mist doesn't mean to get herself into trouble, as she's just curious about everything that she doesn't know about. Another quirk of hers is that she gets attached to the people she's close to and trusts far too easily. She's way too innocent for this day and age. She once was teased for not knowing what kissing was when she was twenty. Although, her huge secret is that she got amnesia shortly after the incident with red stars happened but no one knows this and she continues to keep it a secret. Nevertheless, the last thing about Mist is that she does have a cruel side that rarely appears. It only appears when she feels lost or empty because of her forgotten memories because sometimes she feels guilty but doesn't remember or know why.

Her Sister and Herself

ImageBackpack (Quarter-stuffed with minimal change of clothes)
ImageQuartz Necklace (Unknown owner but it was one of the things she was carrying when she woke up)
ImageWater (For Two days if rationed, Bottled form)
ImageSmall Switchblade (Decent quality, Mist is unable to use it proficiently)


ImageJosephine's father was a gym coach and veteran of the military and her mother was a dancer. She was their first child after they married many years before the incident and they had a second child, also a girl, ten years afterwards. Neither of them supported the idea of the red stars and their beliefs were proved when the incident happened and naturally Josephine and her sister adopted the same beliefs. Josephine, emerging in her early adult years was a well brought up young lady who had attended college and was aiming for a well-paying job as a psychiatrist. Her sister was entering middle school at the time. It was an ideal family situation. Everyone was tight-knit and the financial status of the Slater family was well off compared to most middle class families. Life was good.

That is, until the red stars began to corrupt humanity in more than just one way. Eventually, the world collapsed and the Slater family went on the run with as many supplies as they could carry. They were lucky to have gas masks for all of them, while some of their neighbors weren't as lucky to have enough money to purchase such precious goods. Her father, Samuel took charge and led them safely through the city, searching for somewhere to stow away. As the population slowly decreased, they ran into a group that was apparently leaving the city in search of better living conditions. However, at the time it struck Josephine the wrong way because they looked clean and well-groomed compared to some of the other people they would see walking around. They spoke of an empty shelter a few miles west and Samuel led the family there with haste. When they arrived, things didn't go as planned.

"Wait here." Samuel murmured, waving a hand at the three members of his family who lingered, peering over his shoulder. Josephine edged closer to him, getting a tight feeling in her chest. Something was wrong about this. They had been lucky so far and something bad was bound to happen. This situation was too good to be true. "Daddy, this is a bad idea. Let's just go somewhere else." Josephine whined. Her father dismissed it with a quick hushing sound. "Stop your worrying." She glared at him but kept her mouth shut as he edged forward into the clearing that stood before the entrance to the Clean Box. She watched him anxiously as her heart began to jumpstart into overdrive. She really didn't like this. Her mother and sister pressed closer to her and she slouched just slightly, allowing them to see past her taller body. "Josephine. Go out there. I don't like this either." Her mother spoke whispery soft in her ear. Josephine didn't hesitate and edged forward, letting her gaze follow the shape of her father's back. However, she wasn't prepared for the glint of silver as it flashed lightning-fast and struck her father over the head. "Dad!" She screamed and raced forward as blood spurted across the grass. The masked man stepped out of the shadows next the the entranceway and held his metal bat aloft. "That was easy, eh?" She skidded to a stop and stared at the man with terror. He continued, seemingly amused by her terror. "You guys fell for the trap. Almost like tourists." He clucked his tongue but then suddenly pointed his bat at something behind Josephine. "Nope! Let's not try anything silly. We wouldn't want your pretty daughter getting hurt, right?" Josephine didn't bother to glance over her shoulder as she slowly edged backwards. "And you! Don't move." The man took a step forward but the spooked Josephine leapt back and kept moving until her mothers hands touched her back and pulled her into the group. The man, angry now that the women weren't listening shook his head. "I warned you. I don't want you being naughty. He waved a hand and suddenly another pair of hands were suddenly on her shoulders pushing her down. Her sister's shrill scream pierced the air before silence washed over the pair of women left. A gruff voice spoke up and it sent chills down her spine. "Sorry.. I don't like screamers and she was too young anyways." The first man approached and waved his bat at his friend. "Your going to frighten them. It's not like you already don't frighten them with your hideousness." The man laughed as the second one snorted in response. Josephine held absolutely still but the first man leaned down next to her and cupped her chin, raising her face to his. "Oh wow. Your a pretty gal too. What do you say about being one of mine?" Josephine glared at him but he took this chance to press his lips to hers and she gagged. A screech started up and the sounds of struggle could be heard but Josephine's eyes were closed. The man pulled back and glanced over at her mother. "She's too old. Get rid of her. We will only really need one anyways" Josephine turned towards her mother who met her gaze. Silent communication passed between the two women and tears began to fall over Josephine's cheeks. "No. Please. Don't hur-" The words were silenced by the thud of a sledge hammer meeting her mother's skull. The red blood leaked onto the grass and wordless Josephine stared at her reflection in the crimson liquid. Her tears turned into breathless whimpers and her gaze leapt away from the sight only to meet the empty stare of her sister who lay dead, facing her, a hand outstretched as if to reach for her sister. Josephine extended her own hand and touched the lukewarm skin with a mix of feelings. "Anna. Anna. Wake up." She whimpered softly, wrapping her hands around her sisters as if to warm them. She felt as if her mind was slowly deteriorating. Eventually a slow darkness enveloped her and she fell into the pool of her families blood.

Josephine opened her eyes. She was curled up next to a dumpster in the back an alleyway. She briefly wondered why her face felt sticky and tight and raised a hand to her cheek. Red-colored flakes came off and smudged on her fingertips. "What? Blood?" She felt around and after accessing that she was okay, set away her confusion and stood up. A backpack half-full of clothes and other necessities lay in the dirt next to where she had been laying and she picked it up and pulled it onto her shoulders. However, she stood there realizing that there was a new problem. "Who am I?" She wondered aloud and glanced about the alleyway. A nasty mist hovered just above the ground more noticeable because the alleyway harbored some of the darkest shadows. "My name is Mist. Yeah."

From then on, Mist has been wandering the cities and places but has settled down finally in a suburban neighborhood within the city of Moscow, Russia.

So begins...

Josephine Slater's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stefan Aleksandrov Character Portrait: Josephine Slater

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Stefan peered through a gap in the boards affixed to his front window, examining his lawn as a pang of anxiety shot through his body. He hadn't spoken to any of his friends in the neighborhood in over two weeks. He NEEDED to meet up with them. There was no way he was gonna survive in the new world alone. He had been living the past 2 weeks in perpetual worry. He didn't know if his friends were even alive.

The grass outside had shriveled up and died in many places, but a few patches were still fighting. Everything was drenched in a sickly yellow mist. The Haze. It was like a fog had settled all across the globe, so thick, it could almost be considered solid. He grit his teeth as he thought about the greedy CEO's that had caused this whole thing. He heard the news report before the power went out. He held no empathy for people like that. Stefan held a moist shred of an old Metallica T-Shirt to his lips as he looked, hoping to filter out the small amount of Haze that had permeated his home. He stepped back from the window and looked around his room, all the while tying the t-shirt shred around his mouth.

All of his furniture had gone to barricading his home. Chairs, tables, lamps, shelves, couches, everything. It had pained him at first to make a complete mess of his home, but he soon realized the world wouldn't be the same again; at least within his lifetime. The only bit of furniture he left was his desk. Upon it sat his pride and joy; his computer. That piece of technology was his livelihood. He made money through it, and spent money on it. It was a big part of his life, and he was dreading letting it go. Although, in second place for his favorite thing ever, was Stefan's laptop.

It had been charging as long as it could before the power went out. He knew he should have invested in some sort of independent power source. Solar or hand-crank or something. Too late now. Stefan figured that if there was anything electronic or computer-esque out there, his laptop and knowledge may be of some use. Next to his laptop and computer was a near-empty bottle of pills. Stefan shuddered and bit his lip, trying to forget his dwindling supply. He had schizophrenia. Auditory hallucinations. He only had enough to hold them off for about 3 more days. He HAD to find more. and SOON.

He had boarded up all his windows and nailed sheets over, as to not let any light in or out. His house was awfully small, but space seemingly perpetuated from the removal of furniture. He scratched his chin then zipped up his vest; it had gotten colder since the power went out about a week ago. Stefan strode back to his desk and sat down on an old bucket he found in his garage to resume his project. In a pile was an assortment of different kinds of batteries, a coil of copper wire he cannibalized from his vacuum cleaner, and then his dead phone. "Dammit, Stefan..." he silently berated himself for not making sure his phone was charged before the power went out.

He planned on charging his phone with the batteries. He didn't know much about electronics, but he figured if he cut the mini-USB end along with an inch or so of wire from his charger and spliced the wired together, his phone would acquit some charge. Or not. What did he have to lose? He was so wrought with anxiety from his lack of contact with the only people he held dear in the world, he would give anything a shot.

After an awful lot of trial and error, a few cuts, and one startling electrocution, Stefan was able to charge his phone to a decent 34%. Shaking with anticipation, he dialed the first number he thought of. Josephine. He held the phone to his ear, a bit of sweat forming at his brow. "Please be okay, please be okay, PLEASE be okay..." He chanted under his breath as the phone rang. Surprisingly, cellular communications weren't down yet. At least in his area.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stefan Aleksandrov Character Portrait: Josephine Slater

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#, as written by Akantha
Mist paused, hands floating a centimeter away from the window. She was tempted to push it open but she knew somewhere in her mind that it would be a bad idea. The nasty yellow mist coated the glass on the other side and she peered at it with interest before she turned away and sauntered across the royal blue carpet towards the corner of the room where blankets and pillows lined the floor. The house she stayed in was small and it didn’t have a ton of furniture and items to use by the time she settled in but it did have enough blankets and linens leftover to make a temporary bed. As for the rest of the house, it varied between locks and unusable things. The only door in the house, the front door, had an extra lock and a primitive wooden latch that went across the entire door and had two places for the wooden block to be held. The door itself was a cross between metal and wood as if they had simply put metal around the wood and called it a good door. The windows were uncovered but they were locked as well. Mist believed that once, when the house had power, they had alarms set on them but unfortunately the power was out. On the bright side, Mist was a light sleeper and the window creaked loud enough when it opened.

The kitchen was attached to the living room and had two pots, one pan and no food as of yet. She hadn’t gone outside to search for supplies in a while. Off to the side, down the hall through the kitchen was her hiding place where she stashed things. She had pushed a tall old armoire she had found inside the bedroom and put it outside in front of the door where it would hide the room. Inside the armoire, she had fixed the back of it like a door and put a wooden latch on one side hidden by the ripped and unfitting clothes that a family had left behind. Once you undid the latch, you could open the back and climb through. It had taken Mist four days to get the idea and work set up. Anyone who looked up the hall would see a dead-end and an armoire at the end of the hall. However, inside the room, were things like her gas mask, water, matches which were slowly running out, and other supplies that she had accrued over time. Small things like wires, bolts, metal scraps, and paper that she would eventually trade off or use because she didn’t carry things like that with her when she travelled and moved locations. It might have seemed like a hassle to just start over somewhere new, but once you got used to it, it was easy.

Mist had laid down and propped her upper body on the wall behind her and let her gaze travel over the off-white walls and blue carpet before she let it rest on the coffee table where magazines and newspapers lay strewn about as if someone had flipped through in a panic and then dropped what they were doing to go elsewhere. Mist briefly thought to herself. ‘I really should clean this up.’ But the thought didn’t take priority, as she remained propped on the wall comfortably. The house wasn’t a complete mess, just dusty and chaotic. Whatever family had been here had definitely been in a hurry, taking as much as they could carry. Of course, they left things like the table, the armoire, and a bed but they had taking the stuffing out of the bed even. Anything that would be useful, Mist guessed. She raised a hand to pull it through her pink hair that was tickling her cheeks before giving up on the waves and allowing them to flow where they pleased. Eventually she settled down and pulled the blankets over her bare legs as her dress had hitched up to her hips. A pleasant sigh escaped her lips and she let her mind wander but not enough to sleep.

An hour had passed and her mind had long since become just a blur of random thoughts that just floated around, jumbled up and she was nearly asleep. A buzzing ring pulled her out of her reverie. She glanced down at her cellphone that continued to ring as she stared at it. “That's where you've been. I thought you were dead.” She murmured as she picked it up, watching the screen with speculation. Mist flipped it open and answered, “Hi.”” Mist waited a few seconds before speaking again then stood up and walked over to her window and reached out to touch the cold glass. At that moment the chill in the room became noticeable and she shuddered slightly. “This is Mist.”

She paused again and smiled. The phone’s whirring sound was pleasantly soothing, as she had missed it. Although, she wasn’t like everyone else who seemed to carry it around. She just left it here at home. It was useless most of the time anyways and she didn’t feel like searching for electricity again because she knew there were some generators in the stores around town that had fuel or a working engine left although she had only successfully made it to two and one of them was broken. The other she had gotten a decent charge but other people came, hearing the sound the generator made and stole it. Anyway, going outside meant getting into trouble. Last time she went outside, she met a stranger and he had chased her for two blocks before she lost him. Mist usually always could escape. She just had trouble fighting back, but luckily she never had too if she never got caught. The delicate girl rocked on her feet and decided to focus on the person on the other side of the phone instead of thinking of other things. “What did you say?” She asked to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stefan Aleksandrov Character Portrait: Basil Orlov Character Portrait: Nilda Korbachoff Character Portrait: Josephine Slater

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As the phone rang, Stefan paced his living room. His house was pretty much just a living room, a bathroom, a tiny kitchen, and one bedroom. He didn't need much space; He liked having everything right where he needed it. Close. Stefan's stomach grumbled quietly, causing him to inadvertently look to the pile of supplies he had gathered that was sitting complacently on the floor. He had gathered up all the cans and bottled water in his house. He had around 7 bottles and 10 cans of all sorts. Beans, sliced fruit, tuna, etc. Not quite the plethora he had wished for. He had been scraping by on perishable food for the past week. His milk had gone bad shortly after the power went out, along with a lot of his food. He drank from the faucet until it too went out.

His medicine, laptop, a blanket, a flashlight, an old Zippo, a worn canvas backpack he used for school, an extra shirt, a dull pocket knife, and his "Advanced Programming" book also populated the pile. The phone stopped ringing, then a soft, sweet voice spoke to him. Stefan was elated. He immediately stopped pacing as his heart jumped into his throat.

"Hi, this is Mist." She said, in the cute little voice of hers.

Stefan hesitated a few seconds, breathless. Mist? Who? He looked at his phone; Yup, it was Josephine's number. He ignored it, his elation getting the best of him.

"Oh, thank God you're okay! Josephine, Have you heard from the others?" He said, his voice slightly muffled by the rag over his mouth.

A few tense, silent seconds passed. Stefan held his breath. Josephine finally responded. She said "What did you say?"

Stefan bit his lip. She sounded like she was out of it. As if he had called her while she was sleeping and she wasn't quite 'there' yet. And Mist? Who was Mist? Was she talking about the Haze? He tried something else.

"Jo, this is Stefan. Remember me? We used to watch movies at Nilda's house? Basil showed up sometimes too... Were you sleeping? You sound out of it, bud... Have you been outside recently? Do you have a mask? More importantly, are you safe? Is everything okay?"

Stefan rattled off question after question. In retrospect, it was probably annoying, but he was physically shaking with worry. He couldn't stand this place without the help of his friends.

He was shocked to find he had subconsciously strode to his desk and opened the drawer as he spoke. HE had a habit of doing that sometimes. His mind would be so focused on one thing, body would just wander and sometimes take him outside or to the bathroom or he'd take things from the fridge and so on. This time, however, his body recalled a more painful experience to subconsciously act upon. Within the drawer lay a .357 S&W revolver. It held exactly one bullet; no more, no less. His mind was flooded with darkness as some hidden memories resurfaced. He grimaced and pulled the revolver out, clicking the safety on and tossing it to the couch. There was so much darkness attached to that damned gun, but he figured he would carry it for protection. Maybe he could cleanse it of its dark past.

He tapped his foot in anticipation to Josephine's response, a deep frown and furrowed brow cutting through the rest of his features.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stefan Aleksandrov Character Portrait: Josephine Slater

0.00 INK

#, as written by Akantha
Mist bit her lip as a male voice responded. "Jo, this is Stefan. Remember me? We used to watch movies at Nilda's house? Basil showed up sometimes too... Were you sleeping? You sound out of it, bud... Have you been outside recently? Do you have a mask? More importantly, are you safe? Is everything okay?" She raised a hand up to her temple as a slight pain started, as if a headache was on the way. Her brows furrowed as she tried to figure out what the man was talking about.

“Nilda? Basil? I-” She paused, struggling to understand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t remember anything. Who are you? Do you know what happened before I woke up?” Anxiety blossomed in her heart and she began to pace the living room. “Who is Jo? My name is Mist.” She stopped abruptly, taking a few shallow breaths. “I just woke up somewhere then came to this house. I live here now. It’s nice. I’m safe here. I feel safe here, I mean.” Mist briefly remembered how she had been drawn to this house after so much wandering. She had forgotten about it after she settled because then she hadn’t needed to worry about a place to stay. She chewed on her bottom lip, feeling her teeth scratch the plump flesh. “I’m okay. I just don’t remember anything. I mean, I do. I remember that I had family, that I had friends. But I can’t remember them. Or what happened to them. Like, I don't remember their faces or names. I just know that I did.” Mist let her thoughts congest before she tried a different approach. “Your name is Stefan? I want to see you. I’ll come to you. Where are you? Do you live in Moscow?” She swayed as another ache started then faded as she began to pace again. “I have a mask. I’m ready.” She murmured, moving towards the back room to get prepared.

A quick beep from the phone made her pull it away and glance at the screen. “Eight percent battery.” She felt her fang pinch her bottom lip and finally she released it, leaving it alone lest she pierce it by accident. Mist raised the phone back up to her ear as she reached the armoire at the end of the hall and pulled it open. She reached into the tattered clothing and unhooked the latch on the door before climbing into the hidden room and closing the door behind her. She inspected the room and her eyes caught on the mask. She wandered over to it and picked it up, holding it delicately. A memory flashed before her eyes.

Josephine looked down into the water, clueless and lost. The backpack clung to her shoulders and the white dress was dirty and wet. She shivered, glancing around it to make sure that no one was around before looking back down into the water that had a strange tint to it. “The haze is everywhere.” She could remember what the mist was now. It was sickly, destruction upon humanity. She briefly thought about how she named herself after it. “Well. I am sick.” Josephine focused on the reflection in the water. The mask covered her face and bright blue eyes gazed back at her. “Hello Mist.” She smiled and the fragile-looking woman smiled back. “I don’t remember you or what you did. I just feel that something happened, right here.” She pointed to her chest and shook her head. “We need to survive. Find my home.” She nodded, imitating an actual conversation before a chuckle escaped her. The tinkle of laughter echoed…

Mist took a quivering breath as the laughter faded and she shook the memory away with a shudder. The mask stared at her and she sighed, turning her gaze away from it to look around the room. She continued to listen to the other person on the phone. He seemed important.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stefan Aleksandrov Character Portrait: Basil Orlov Character Portrait: Josephine Slater

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Stefan listened in horror as Josephine told him her story. She didn't remember anything; Poor girl. She didn't even remember him. He clenched his fist and released it repeatedly, trying to keep his heart rate down. He was fairly stressed. "Oooooooh, Fuck. This is REALLY happening. All this. It's HAPPENING and YOU'RE in the middle of it." Stefan thought to himself. He found himself pacing again as Josephine (Or "Mist", he figured he'd have to call her from now on), laid it out to him.

Stefan took a deep breath through the moist rag, then said "Jo, erh, Mist, don't go anywhere. I... I'm Stefan Aleksandrov, and I live in Moscow, Russia, remember that. I'm Stefan, and I'm a good guy. I'm going to help you. Don't leave the house; you could get hurt. I'm gonna come get you, okay? Just sit tight, I'll be there soon. Are you at your own house? The one you lived in before whatever happened?"

He again got self-conscious about the amount of questions he was asking, but he rationalized that it was an emergency. Hell, the whole WORLD was in a state of emergency. Stefan walked to his pile and sat down, attempting to shovel all his supplies into his pack with one arm when he heard a pounding at the door. He jumped a mile out of his skin as his handgun found its way into his palm and his feet steady upon the floor, a swift reaction which he later regarded with mild surprise. His arm pointed true towards his barricade door as a familiar, but muffled voice met his ears.

"Aleksandrov? It's me, Orlov! Are you alive? Can you let me inside?" Basil said from outside.

After a moment of realization, Stefan stuffed the revolver into his pocket and ran to the door. He had no idea whether his comrade had any sort of respiratory protection, or if he was wounded, or some other bad thing. Stefan was sometimes labelled as a worry-wart, but in reality, he just liked to realize all possibilities in a situation. At first thought, he was worried Basil might have mental damage as well. Did the Haze affect the Human brain? Stefan wrote it off, though; Basil had called him by his surname.

Stefan said to Josephi- Mist, Dammit, "Mist, Hang on a moment, another friend is here. His name is Basil. The one that we watched movies with? Do you remember him? Please, Try as hard as you can to remember." Stefan's words were punctuated by grunts as he pulled the furniture barricade away from the door to let his friend in. With one hand, at that. After a few curses from a hasty and over-extended pull, Stefan moved the furniture away enough to open the door enough to allow Basil through. "C'mon in quick, Basil!" Stefan said, beckoning with his free hand. He watched with worry as snaking tendrils of Haze seeped in through the breach in his house's seal. It creeped in like rotten, skeletal fingers on a living corpse, bringing on its back a pestilent, festering evil.