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Psychological Evaluation Report
A woman of average height, slim, almost bony and lanky in appearance, which makes her seem as if she is taller than she actually is. Her sculpted features seem delicate, with thin eyelashes over wide, expressive eyes, prominent cheekbones, and a sloped forehead. Fatin's dark brown hair is nearly black, somewhere between wavy and curly, and falls to around her bust. She typically dresses in comfortable, practical Western style clothes, although she sometimes wears contemporary style salwar kameez. Fatin goes by the name "Lisa Karim", and almost never uses her given name.
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Fatin Farah
"I do the work of God. If I die, then all glory be to Him. You can stop Hataf, but you cannot still the hand of God, not for one moment."
0 · 1,603 views · located in 
Dead End
a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Ylanne
Description
Personality
Equipment
Computers she has built herself, as well as discs with programs she has written, external hard drives, various USB and other assorted cables, and various other technological paraphernalia.
History
Fatin Farah was born in 1978 in Mutalistan. She graduated from the University of New Haven with a joint Bachelor and Master of Science degree in computer science. She oversees many of Hataf's technological operations and activities, ranging from security of internal communications to active attacks on government and high-value infrastructure or other such targets. She was the primary operative behind the attack on St. Lawrence's Hospital in Washington D.C. on 20 December 2006. The location of her actual permanent residence is unknown, and her identity is known only as "Lisa Karim", an alias she uses, to law enforcement authorities and intelligence agencies. Fatin is wanted under that name, though little biographical data is actually known to the authorities.
(Last updated: 8 November 2010. Revised again for 13 December 2011.)
So begins...
Fatin Farah's Story
She stepped inside, her eyes immediately falling on Yamin. Her eyes narrowed in recognition. "This one. His name is Yamin Noor Attayyib," she said, approaching Yamin as she stared down at the man. "He is one of Hataf's senior leaders."
"I went last week," she replied, unfolding her arms as she looked at the Inquisitor. "I usually go to the Temple of Dike, not the Temple of Artemis, which is where Tahira can usually be found." She shook her head again. "Let's go back. I'm already tired of watching this." Truth be told, she had no desire to remain on Netu any longer than she had to, and there was no reason in her mind to stay.
The setting changes from Dead End to Main Street
"Yes?" She spoke without turning around, holding some papers in her hand as she faced the closed door of the SUV, having seen the man's reflection in the polished metal. The tall, dark man was instantly recognizable as the American Director of Central Intelligence. And she, of course, knew well exactly who he was.
"I don't know what you are talking about," she answered, with a stiffness in her voice that belied her words. She did not turn to face him, only gripped the pages in her hand with a tautness not unlike that of desperation. "Director." This last word was almost whispered, almost inaudible, though it too was a challenge issued.
"The woman you know as Lisa Karim was executed," she replied flatly, turning to stare at Durrani, though it was a strange sort of stare. She did not meet his eyes, not exactly. "She is dead."
"I am certain my superiors have better modes of communication than to mislead you, Director," she said, her lip curling back. She lowered the papers to her side. "Karim is dead; that is it; it is over."
"Director, is there anything I can do for you?" She gave him an exasperated look, gesturing to the array of weaponry and paperwork in the SUV. "I have work I need to do."
"My name is Special Agent Lissette Hanley, LDA." She smiled. And with those words, she erased a bit more of her past self. There was no room for regret. There was no room for remembrance. She was not who she once was, and nothing this man said would change that. Though he might possess political clout, for her, he was insignificant, no less than a gnat courting a streetlight.
The setting changes from Main Street to Dead End
Fatin Farah had been tracking a few errant Hataf members in the Wing City area with Natalie Schultz when the two split in different directions. Fatin wandered past Gambit's, shaking her head at the familiar door and the sounds spilling into the alley from behind it. The stench of rotting corpses rose and she found herself following Aiyanna, a young Parson visible ahead, into the dead end. Ugh. What a way to spend her day. She wrinkled her nose, jamming her hands into her pockets.
Fatin Farah frowned, nodding. "Schultz and I have been following a number of suspected Hataf members in the area. I was hoping to find one of our subjects this evening." She looked between Aiyanna and the boy, folding her arms. There was something familiar about the boy's face. She swore she had seen it before, though Fatin couldn't remember where for her life.
Fatin Farah sighed, shaking her head. "Ugh. Don't tell me my subject is dead. That'll make interrogation difficult." She strode further into the alley, opening the lid of one the dumpsters. When she found nothing, she turned back to the boy. "I have a job to do, and I'm doing it. I don't claim to be good, nor do I claim to be bad."
Fatin Farah shook her head, smiling painfully. "Thanks but no thanks. I'd rather not." She sighed, glancing down at her timepiece. "I think I'm going to finish what I started. I'm still working you know." Fatin opened the next dumpster, peering inside at the layers of decaying garbage. She gagged, slamming the dumpster shut before stepping back down into the alley.
"Hey," she said suddenly, narrowing her eyes at the boy. "I know you -- I saw you on the news last week. You're one of them, one of the escaped insane asylees!"
"Hey," she said suddenly, narrowing her eyes at the boy. "I know you -- I saw you on the news last week. You're one of them, one of the escaped insane asylees!"
Fatin Farah stared at Parson, though she didn't quite manage direct eye contact. If the boy was prudent or observant, he would perhaps notice this. If he were even more observant, he might have noticed the subtle flicking of Fatin's fingers in the air near her leg as she stared. "You escaped; you need to go back. If you don't go voluntarily, I will be forced to inform the appropriate authorities and or take action personally. You need to go back."
Fatin Farah followed the kid, though she didn't draw her weapon. Not yet anyway. "Listen, why don't you tell me what happened? I'm listening, yeah? Tell me what happened. Tell me where you came from and why you left." She approached the kid, hoping to close the distance between them.
Fatin Farah raised an eyebrow. "You mean the corpse of my suspect, Frankie Bentivegna, whom I've been looking for?" She was tempted to add "ew," but wisely refrained. Fatin stepped closer, following the boy, almost within arm's length of him now. "Why were you in the asylum?"
Fatin Farah followed the boy, insistent. "I know a face when I see one. You're him. I'm not mistaken." There was something strange about him, but unlike an MEA agent (newly assigned to the MEB), Fatin had no special training in the supernatural and would know next to nothing about nonhumans. She was an LDA agent, and her specialty was terrorism, not magical affairs.
Fatin Farah sniffed. "I can smell the process of bodily decay." The body wasn't that old, but Fatin had hypersensitive senses, and she could detect the stench from the bag. "Clearly, the body has been sliced into... pieces." She made an unreadable face. "There is no doubt that there is a body in there, but due to the size of the bags, it is the obvious answer."
Fatin Farah 's frown deepened, considering. Her fingers flicked a little faster against her legs, and now her avoidance of eye contact would have been made painfully obvious. "I won't turn you in, maybe, but I do need the body back. Bentivegna is kind of important to my investigation. But I really do want to know... why did you end up in an insane asylum?" Her face took on a puzzled expression. She hadn't spoken with anyone accused of insanity on psychological grounds in a long time. It had happened to her once, too, and Fatin was curious.
Fatin Farah hefted the backpack in one hand, struck by how well she could hear the sounds of the body parts inside shifting with the motion. It was a sound that should have been sickening to anyone else able to hear it, but Fatin didn't flich. She hardly blinked. "Yeah? My parents died too. So did anyone I ever called friend. How'd you find a new family?"