My character name: Greta Dean Character ID number: 25 Link to your character's survival stats (minis) profile:Greta DeanView Faction: Prison Rank: Civie
Bars: 2
KITCHEN CRED
SECURITY CRED
MEDBAY CRED
SUPPLY CRED
[spoiler][quote="OOC"] [b]Character's name:[/b] Great Dean [b]Character's faction:[/b] Prison [b]Character's journal link:[/b] [url=http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=24794975]Here[/url] [b]Character's survival stats: [/b] [url=http://www.thesporkedken.com/adopt/dayzerouser.php?act=profile&user=25]View[/url] [b]BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER[/b] Tall, bony, middle-aged with graying hair. She doesn't cut a particularly interesting or powerful figure. Her face is lined and soft. Her eye unremarkable. Soft spoken, dutiful, and obedient. She takes orders and takes them well.
[/quote]
[quote="HERE YOU SHOULD QUOTE ANYONE YOU ARE TALKING TO"][/quote] [quote="QUOTE MORE PEOPLE IF YOU ARE TALKING OT THEM"][/quote] [/spoiler]
Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2015 1:15 pm
ENTRY LOG: DAY ZERO
Character Name: Greta Dean
Age: 46
Gender: Female
Employment: Laundry Facilities Worker
Faction: District 2 Prison
Character description: Greta's hair had begun to grey years ago and she could never be bothered to do anything about it. She has little time for vanity and no one at the prison cares much how she looks as long as she is decent and doing her job. She indulges in a little eyeliner when she has an easy morning, but who's watching but her? She is otherwise unremarkable in every way. Dutiful and quiet, she does her job--she helps run the laundry facilities in the prison--without complaint. Prone to bouts of idealism, or fanciful stupidity, she has a habit of thinking that "her prisoners" (often those in for the worst crimes, though budget cuts have kept those prisoners away from her) are meant for better days and thinks that perhaps she can live vicariously through them. She's never been proven right and, several times, has allowed her optimism to persuade her to do things that she perhaps shouldn't have to... help them out.
+ Hardworking + Dutiful - Delusional - Gullible
DAY ZERO ENTRY PROMPT: It was quiet in the laundry room except for the rumbling of machines, tumbling, tumbling, tumbling, sheets and clothes round and round. This was her life: listening to what was dirty become clean (but not beautiful). Of course, when there were prisoners working in the laundry room she had their chatter to keep her company and the need to give orders, but otherwise her work was solitary. Don’t get too close to the prisoners. was one of the rules they had given her when she had first started working. If her definition of close had changed over the years, no one of consequence had noticed or cared.
The lights went out right has she started to empty a large dryer drum of clothes. She thought nothing of it, some natural light allowed her to continue her work and, if nothing else, she always got her work done. Out of the drum and into the big cart next to her went the clothes. After this she had plenty of folding to look forward to.
It was only then that two women burst in, a prisoner and guard, that she realized that something must have been wrong. The backup generator hadn’t kicked in and they looked scared.
Hide!
She didn’t need to be told twice. Greta was no fighter and, despite all the risks she took on a daily basis, she had a great sense of self preservation. She pulled herself up and into the dryer, dropping onto the warm clothes. Closing the lid on the drum, she closed her eyes and listened. At least she would be comfortable.
She had her hands folded in her lap to keep herself from picking at her clothes (which were clean, thank you very much). She kept her legs together carefully, trying not to fidget or shuffle her feet. She was here to prove that she could stay here. She had worked here for so many years and now that the world was falling apart around the prison, she was certain that she didn't want to be cast out. She had considered the prisoners her friends (sometimes, but she wasn't supposed to say; it didn't matter now). She couldn't imagine her life without this prison--she would join the undying she supposed, that was the only reasonable answer.
She squinted when she was handed the image. She saw something but she wasn't sure exactly what. It was a face she supposed, but that wasn't a real answer. Any person could probably see a face or a mask in this image. She knew that humans were predisposed to see those things when you could say 'Look there. At those eyes and that smile.' She probably also shouldn't mention that she saw a smile; that was probably a bad answer. Finally, she ventured to say, "I see a face. Or well, a head. A boar's head."
She shrugged, trying not to look too concerned. "Not that I'm seeing some sort of Lord of the Flies symbolism... I should really rather hope that we never get to that point; I like order and safety, thank you. I just see a boar's head."
"The eyes and tusks are right there. And ears." She let herself raise a hand to wave at the image, pointing at each feature in turn.
She wasn't sure if she had answered correctly or in an acceptable manner, but they moved on so she smiled blandly, hoping that that meant she was being cleared to stay on the right side of the electric fence.
You must choose between saving the life of another faction member, or obtaining a box of bottled water. You cannot do both. Which do you choose, and why?
She very carefully did not cringe or look guilty. The answered seemed obvious, of course she would take the water, but upon reflection she was sure if that was what she would actually do if she were in this situation. In the moment, long ago before budget cuts made the prison a softer place, she had often been convinced to do something that was decidedly not in her best interests or in the interests of her survival out of sentiment. She wanted to ask 'Which other faction member is in trouble? but she didn't want them to think that she had a... weakness of some sort that was insurmountable.
She prided herself on being a practical, level-headed woman, just one who was occasionally prone to following her heart. She spent her whole life working; who could blame her for wanting more? She also didn't want to make the question more complicated. They were asking these questions for a reason and the reason she was here answering them was to stay inside, not to make them scrutinize her more.
"I would take the water. Even though I would regret not being able to save my fellow faction member, it would be remiss of me not to take the water. The water has the potential to save more than just one life and I have to value the survival of the faction as a whole over the survival of just one member." She rotated her foot, her ankle popping loudly in the quietude of the room she was in. "I would feel really bad about letting them die though. I would hope that they would do the same in my situation."
She fell silent then, unsure if she had anything more to say or if she should say more.
OOC
Character's name: Great Dean Character's faction: Prison Character's journal link:Here Character's survival stats: View BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Tall, bony, middle-aged with graying hair. She doesn't cut a particularly interesting or powerful figure. Her face is lined and soft. Her eye unremarkable. Soft spoken, dutiful, and obedient. She takes orders and takes them well.
