As I told
earlier, I’m very vicious fighter. I love to fight and cause pain to those who
oppose me. I remember Luis’s team calling me a bitch several times. Luis
himself called me Lily-Ann. His team didn't. Even though they didn't speak
English, they knew the word bitch, and they used it. I think they tried to hurt
me with their words. Luis tried to make them stop, but words couldn't hurt me.
Actually I know I’m bitchy. I’m more than bitchy. After learning how the word
was used, I knew I could use that as a name. It gives some impression of me at
first. Of course, my actions speak for themselves, but I can be quite harsh on
my words as well.
I didn't have a
name when I was in the laboratory. Luis told me that they used numbers. I was
number 28. That has a nasty sound to it, for me. Test Subject No. 28. Maybe
I’ll get all my torturers in a line and give them numbers. And then kill them
slowly, one by one. That’s why I started learning about toxins. People die too
quickly when you cut them open. I have tried it, with people, rats, dogs, you
name it. I have never met any creature capable of healing as fast as me before.
Actually, I’m not quite sure. I have a memory of a vampire, but I’m not sure if
it’s real or something I saw from TV.
The life in the laboratory
left me with lots of scars. I don’t scar easily. I have tried that also. I have
cut my own hand open to see if it scars, but it doesn't. I think the scars
occur when I have been mortally wounded, or the wound has been made to the same
place over and over again. That’s what happened in the laboratory. The most
vicious-looking scar is on my head. It goes from the back of my head to the top
of my head. It looks nasty, even in my leopard-form. The leopard-fur covers
most of the smaller scars, but the scar on my head is visible. There is no fur
on the scar.
After starting
my job as a runner in Seattle I have managed to get more scars to my body. I
have a scar on my forehead, because some robot tried to do surgery on me. It
never got further than cutting my head open. It healed before the robot could
do anything else. It’s a story about Renraku Arcology, and that’s an
interesting story for sure. Let’s leave that for later.
I have several
gunshot wounds all over my body. The most recent ones came from assault rifles,
the bullets went right through me. Boy do I feel sorry for the shooters.
I didn't have a
good style when I was in the other country with Luis. I normally was dressed in
jeans, simple shirts and jackets. I had good shoes for running, and a shotgun
in my bag. When Luis got me a claymore, I had to get a new belt to carry it as
well. It is normally located on my back.
When I got to
Seattle, I had found my style. I used to shave my head so that only some of my
hair was there. It was a mohawk. The hair covered the scar, and the rest of my
head was bare. Sometimes I used hair-gel to get the hair pointing up. My hair
is naturally black. I don’t know what happens if I would color my hair and then
change forms. Would the color stay on the head of my leopard-form, or disappear
completely? I don’t know. I don’t care.
I wore
leather-clothes. I had black leather-pants and a long leather-coat. The coat
was a weak armor against bullets, but it was good enough. I had also gotten me
combat boots. They were good and strong shoes with attitude. I didn't look like
someone you wanted to meet in the middle of the night on a dark alley.
I used to carry
all my weaponry with me. My shotgun in a duffel-bag, sword on my back. I had a
tomahawk and a long knife on my belt. When I went to jobs I had my full arsenal
with me. Oh, and I almost forgot my explosives. I carry some explosives with me
at all times. I believe that if everything else fails, I can just explode the
shit out of everything. It has worked before...
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