The King of America

Okay, this sounds like a bad idea, historically speaking. We're a fairly young country, with a long history of independence and rebelliousness, and we even fought off King George and more or less spit in his eye. Why in the WORLD would anyone suggest that we should have a King

Okay yes. Back in the day when kings were all crazy and powerful, and commanded armies and made weird stupid proclamations demanding impossible things, we were kinda right to throw off the shackles and stand apart from the oppressive... er ...oppressors.

But if you look now, the British Monarchy looks like a romantic, noble, sometimes scandalous, but always entertaining family with a long and amazing history. Every time one of them gets married, divorced, starts dating, takes an alleged bong hit, or anything really it generates headlines for weeks. I would bet that most Americans don't know the name of the British Prime Minister, but can tell you ALL about Prince William, and Kate, and the baby, and oh holy crap people love the royalty.

And here in this day and age they do make a valid contribution to the country. There's a great YouTube video about this, but basically it works like this: They own a lot of land; They rent (or lease) that land to the government; The Government makes money from that land; British taxes go down. But more than that interest in the Royal Family accounts for a HUGE amount of the British, especially the London, economy, due to tourism. People come from all over the world to see where the Royal Family lives, plays, the Crown jewels, and all the royal themed attractions that start with "Ye Olde."

And that got me thinking: Why should they have all the fun? We could have our own American Royal Family, couldn't we?

Okay let's think about this. Kings were originally charismatic and aggressive leaders who led armies, and protected their people from harm, and gained glory and honor from battle, and believed mightily that they were given the right to rule through Divine Providence. After that, they just passed the title down from generation to generation, not out of any deference to the descendent's prowess or skill or charisma, but rather because they were born.

And this is understandable, as we have a built in desire to protect our offspring and provide every advantage possible for their survival and prosperity. Being King is a really good way to do that, unless you screw it up by being really dumb and causing a revolution, and maybe getting your head chopped off. But hey, nobody's perfect right? The important thing is that they started as nobody, but took what they had and forged a kingdom sweat, blood, steel, and will.

So then, what if I told you that deep in the south there was a long, nearly forgotten line of noble blood that is heir to the Lost Throne of the Americas? Tracing it's lineage back through the Civil War, further back to a family of royalty that had been banished to America for the crime of being Catholic, which disqualified them the succession. (A real thing apparently, look it up.)

The Nobleman arrived quietly, and mostly did things without fanfare, or fervor, but made a difference in the lives of his people, and protected them. His lineage is still alive today, and the most direct of the eldest descendants is a humble construction worker in North Carolina, unaware that he is the rightful King of America.

None of that is true of course, as far as I know. But it makes a good story, it has the ring of truth, and don't people just love the idea of lost and hidden royalty? It is a fascinating idea.

See it's not like he/she would have any real power or authority, per se. Maybe they find out that they're the beneficiary of some land grant back revenues that the government could never pay back, so they set up a trust that they'll pay back over several hundred years or so, to the family and their heirs. Other than that it's just a big PR thing. "Hey look at us, we have our own King!"

So yeah, might make a good story. Kind of a rags to riches story about a nice guy, single, who suddenly finds himself the heir, not only to an incredible fortune (which he can't have, but no one cares,) but also the title of King of America (which means nothing, but no one cares.) Suddenly women who wouldn't give him the time of day are throwing themselves at his feet, companies are offering him jobs as their spokesman, businesses are changing their names in his honor, Matt Lauer won't stop calling to ask him to be on the Today Show. It goes on and on.

And the whole time he's just trying to live his life, and figure out what he wants to do, now that he doesn't have to have a job any more. But of course it turns out that being King is a full time job, making public appearances, meeting important people who's only interest is his fame, and so on and so on.

Then he meets a girl, the only one who is not impressed by his fame, has never heard of him, doesn't care about his money, etc etc, and of course isn't too impressed with him either.

The rest should be fairly obvious to anyone who's seen King Ralph, or any romantic comedy where the guy has to work to impress the girl. She sees him in a moment of kindness, instantly falls in love with him, then some other complication keeps them apart until they can be thrown together at the end of the movie while some funny yet touching, song plays in the background. Start credits, then show the wedding scene during the credits along with bloopers, and so on.

Yeah, I think we could do better than that though. What if being King turns into a huge chance for him to bring out his diplomatic side, and become an unofficial goodwill ambassador for the US and Canada, travelling extensively to talk to important people about how their people can get along better, and basically be a really nice guy via interpreter. Then suddenly he gets embroiled in an international incident, and suddenly we're in a suspense action movie, in the vein of Air Force One, or any of the Die Hard movies, where it turns out that the King has a military service record, and a way to contact someone on the outside. He uncovers the plot, takes out the bad guys, saves the day, then gives a one liner about how it's good to be the King, or something equally cheesy. Credits roll to a Lynard Skynard/Elvis  mashup, encompassing "The King" and "The South."

Yeah, that sounds like a blockbuster hit by Michael Bay.

Well this is what Brainstorming, and Spit-balling are for, you toss everything at the wall, and see what sticks. I'll probably go to TV Tropes and see if an idea occurs to me, but this one will have to sit on the back burner for a while, after all I've got 2 other stories to make some progress on.

Anyway, as ever comments and suggestions are welcomed.

Thanks for reading!

Magic World: Miranda Herrera, Roller Derby Queen

Hey guys, I'm back. Hope you enjoyed the Vlogs over the last couple of days while I played my new game. I've been having a lot of fun with it, and I'll keep playing when I have time, but it's time to get back to writing. I am going to keep this somewhat short though so I can still play a little GTA 5 before getting to bed early. 

Actually, I'd had a story I thought would be good for GTA 5 way back before they had even announced it, where a retired criminal thug, (played by Sam Elliot* in my head) was living in New Austin (where Red Dead Redemption took place) in a little wooden cabin out in the middle of nowhere. He gets a call that someone like a brother or friend, or maybe enemy was killed. He's torn about whether to come back, when he hears motorcycles approaching. They're coming to get him next. (*edit-not sam neil)

So he goes to San Andreas to get back into "the game," of crime, corruption, and violence. It could just as easily be Vice City I suppose, so I'm thinking about writing it as fan fiction in that universe, or maybe I'll set it in my Magic World universe, who knows?

But now I want to move onto something I've been looking forward to for some time: My Roller Derby Queen character, Miranda Herrera. This is the kind of character that I love. Quirky, flirty, unconsciously sexual, happy, bubbly, perky, and good at what she does. If you're a Firefly fan then if I describe her as Kaylee, only less shy, more muscle, and with more scars and bruises. Oh, and pink pigtails.

***********************************************

She was born in a mid-sized midwestern town, and was always a tomboy, growing up with 3 older brothers. When she went to high school, she played every sport they had for girls, basketball, soccer, volleyball, track, but was always upset that she couldn't join the football team, or wrestling team. She had always roughhoused with her brothers without any problems, and couldn't understand why it should be any different with any other boy. (This led to a tendancy to be very physical, even in casual encounters, without any sense of self consciousness, and without any intentional sexuality.)

Then when she was about seventeen she went to her first Roller Derby. She was ecstatic, elated, and enamored, at the raw physicality, and comradery, and the fact that you got to smash into people at high speed on roller skates. After her first successful derby she earned the name Butcher Knife because she "carved up" the other team. This was shortened first to Butcher, then finally to Butch.

However a few months after she turned 18 she fulfilled a promise to herself, following her brothers into the army. She finished boot camp with distinction, and when the time came chose Combat Training and Special Forces. She was accepted, and finished that training with distinction, though her instructors clearly disapproved of her "two-gun" style. She had to admit it was difficult at first, using two pistols simultaneously, but she gradually came to see it as extensions of her arms, so that she had more options when aiming. Her ability grew better and better, and soon she was hitting the same targets as those who used more conventional weapons, only she was hitting twice as often. She could also aim at 2 targets at once, however her accuracy suffered when doing this.

She served 2 tours in Afghanistan, but during the second one on a patrol her unit encountered an IED on the side of the road, and stopped to secure the area. As they patrolled, watching for civilians and terrorists alike, it happened.
Miranda stepped onto a mine. The blast was contained but she did lose the bottom part of her left leg, halfway through the calf.

However a brilliant Magical Engineer who claimed to be part of a special department, came and offered to make her a prosthetic. He came back with an enormously over sized prosthetic, which she was told to put on.

He came and went several more times, each contraption looking much smaller and lighter than the last, until finally he came back with a device that look,stump  and felt good on the "stump" of her leg

She was discharged from the Army, presented with a Purple Heart, and wanted to go straight back into Roller Derby, but wasn't sure how. But she practiced, and fell, and practiced some more, until she was able to skate on her prosthetic leg, and was eventually able to skate again.

During the Derby's off season, with her prosthetic functioning  flawlessly, to the point where almost nobody knew it was there, she was able to supplement her income as a mercenary for the Mexican government, helping to push back the gangs and take out their strongholds.

When she heard that the engineer who had given her the leg was killed, she felt she owed it to him to go and find out what happened.

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And there we go.  Fairly simple, yet hopefully entertaining.

Comments and suggestions are my favorite form of tip, and tipping is not just a city in China people!

As always, Thanks for Reading!

What I did last night.

So, I've been up for better than 24 hours, since about 7am Monday morning. Went to work, came home went out at midnight, haven't been to bed since, though I have had some involuntary naps.

What was I doing? I could tell you, but I think this montage says it all:

Vlog #1

Meant to post this yesterday, but oh well. I should have one for today though, another video, much shorter.

Magic World: Robert Michael Brown, The Chameleon

Hey everybody. Thanks for joining me.

So before I started writing this post tonight I knew that I was going to need a name for the character who would be my "Man of Many Faces." So I looked up the most common first and last names, and chose from among them the first middle and last names I thought would be the most inconspicuous.
Then I did a Google Image Search for the name Robert Michael Brown just to see what came up. The result was everything I had hoped for and more, with a ton of different faces, mostly white male ages 18 to 60, with different hair styles, different eyes, different facial hair, different everything. And all completely forgettable. In this context. If you saw if you saw a picture  of one of these guys, then were asked to point him out on the street, chances are you wouldn't recognize him, unless the contrast was extreme, such as if he were the only guy.

And that's what this character is. Forgettable. Plain. Normal.

Until he's not. And there is where things get a bit awesome, because when Robert goes into character he's suddenly a different person, whether that person is a homeless person begging for money, or a wealthy socialite, or a Hollywood A-lister, or Joe Shmoe Automechanic Hometown USA.

Robert Michael Brown was born to Alice and David Brown, elves in a small town in the middle of nowhere. His life growing up was for the most part fairly uneventful, his family wasn't wealthy, but nor were they poor, and they lived in relative comfort. In school he was average in the class, neither at the top or the bottom, but consistently average. (He had taken several IQ tests however, administered  by his parents, and the objective conclusion they discovered was that he actually had an IQ far above average, approaching Genius level, but when they asked him why he wasn't do better in school, he confessed he wasn't quite ready to start calling that much attention to himself.)

Then when he reached High School two amazing things happened, that touched his deeply on a personal level.

First he decided to join the drama club, because of the second reason, which is that he found himself very attracted to someone who was a member of that club. This was surprising to him, because up until this point his his life he hadn't really considered the concept of attraction, though most of the other kids in his class had boyfriends/girlfriends for the past several years, since like sixth grade, though those relationships tended to be very tame. A lot of handholding and other minor displays of affection. Robert has always thought of himself apart from that kind of odd display.

But then he started to feel something a little strange, like affection, caring, and a sense of a magnetic force drawing him in. It was like suddenly finding out that you had this whole range of emotions that you had previously never realized you were capable of having. It frightened him, excited him, saddened him, but ultimately made him realize that up to that point something had been missing from his life, though of course at the time he was only fourteen.

The fact that the person he was attracted to was another boy wasn't even a concern, it was just a blip on the radar.

James was an actor in the theater, and very popular among that group, but socialized outside of that group very seldom, so in order for Robert to be able to attempt to socialize with him he would have to join the theater.

During his very first audition the drama teacher, who was also the director of the plays, gave the group a brief introduction to acting, saying that the idea was to put yourself in the place of the character you were playing, and try to react the way that they would in that situation.

They were reading for Grease and the director had given them a scene with Danny Zuko and Burger Palace Boys, a dialoge version of the male half of the song "Summer Nights" which the director had written up himself to test the range of emotion that each of the boys could give without having to worry about the singing, which would come later.

When Robert gave his rendition the director had thought he had already cast his Danny, from among the Seniors, and only freshmen were left, and the director had seen Robert's demeanor prior to the audition, very reserved, quiet, and always giving you the impression that he was somehow studying you. He didn't have high hopes.

But when Danny Zuko arrived on the stage and started telling all his friends about the girl he'd met over the summer, and how he had conquered her, before looking dreamily off into some inner world of his own to remember the tender moments spent with Sandra Dee, then putting the bravado back in place. When his friends left him and he was alone the sense of longing and sadness for Sandy that he showed, nearly brought a tears to the director's eyes.

Then when it was over, the unassuming and reserved Robert stood on the stage, looking calmly and expectantly back at the stunned director.

The relationship with James lasted through all of high school, but James had insisted that it should remain a secret because (as this was the mid 80s) homosexuality wasn't as widely accepted, and he feared the kinds of reprisals that would come with an openly gay relationship. Robert respected that request, but as he never really considered it to be anyone else's business.

But in their final year, in the last week before graduation James caused a scandal by getting caught in the boys locker room with a football player, in a very compromising situation. James had been correct in his assumption about reprisal, as he was hospitalized by the other members of the football team for "turning Shawn (the one he was caught with) gay." Shawn, for his part, was kicked off the team and forever shunned, though he never had so much as a hand laid on him.

Though he never showed it openly, Robert was devastated by the betrayal. He went to the hospital and to James' room, but did not enter, only looked at him passively through the open door, betraying no emotion whatsoever. When James saw him standing there he broke down and started weakly crying, and looking away. Robert left him without so much as speaking a word.

This reaction from James left Robert thinking about people, and about the nature of trust. he trusted James because James had seemed sincere. It's even possible that he may have BEEN sincere, but in the end it had been a manipulation.

Robert had never understood most of this, his connection with James had been his only relationship, and his only real connections with anyone other than his parents. So he decided to conduct a series of experiments in human connection with himself. He spent time developing relationships with people in different guises and personalities using his acting skill which had developed even further in the intervening years, then just did things to gauge emotional response, and attempted to discern how different kinds of people reacted in different situations. He made extensive notes, and compiled  several books worth of information.

When the time came to break off the relationships that he had developed he compiled his information and developed a strategy that would end the relationship with as little impact on those he had chosen, reasoning that there was no reason to be unduly cruel, and anyway, it was possible he might have use of them someday again.

He then created a persona which he called Professor Wildmark PhD, disguising himself dramatically, and released several bestselling self-help books, from which he made enough money to support a lavish lifestyle.

However once he had accomplished this he began to feel rather bored. Needing more of a challenge, he decided to see how effective his information on personality and emotional responses would be at manipulating people into doing things they would otherwise not normally do.

He decided that he would use the exceedingly rich to do this little experiment, reasoning that if he talked them into handing over their valuable possessions they would be able to afford to go out and get more. He had no need, nor any particular desire to do lasting harm to anyone, not out of any particular sentimentality really, but just because harming others who did not deserve it seemed somehow... wrong. It gave him a feeling that he might have described as sadness, which he didn't like.

When he started working with the incredibly rich however, he began to notice a trend. Many of the very rich he ingratiated himself to seemed to find ways to aquire their wealth by taking advantage of those that were less fortunate then they were. What's more they seemed to delight in this behavior.

This made Robert quite upset. He decided then that he would not feel bad about doing a little harm to these rich people, those that were this cruel for no good reason other than gain. He used his considerable skills find ways to do incredible harm to the very wealthy, without harming those employees who worked for the companies they owned. Any money that he acquired was liquidated and moved through dummy accounts, laundered heavily, generally withdrawn as cash to be moved into another account or set of accounts, then given to people who had been victimized by these people.

He used the information he gathered from these escapades to write several more books, (in another guise of course) created as fiction, but using many of the same situations he himself had been in as the basis for his protagonists adventures.

A military Wizard Engineer read of these books, recognizing an incidence that had been described to him by an acquaintance (who he was not very fond of) sought out the Author, finding Richard G Dean, who had "written" the books. The Engineer had made a request of Robert, which is now classified. Robert began to feel the same unfamiliar attraction to the Wizard that he had to James all those years ago, and agreed to help.

They developed a relationship, and both understood that the relationship would have to be short term. Robert appreciated the honesty, and due to that honesty let down his guard, and did not maintain the Richard G Dean persona  for him.

When the work was complete and the relationship had ended, Robert felt another emotion that he was generally unfamiliar with; Satisfaction. He did feel satisfaction at a job well done whenever he had completed a con, but this kind of satisfaction was different. It felt like the kind of satisfaction one would get after a particularly cleansing shower, that even though the shower was over the feeling of cleanliness persisted.

So several years later when the Wizard was killed, Robert made it his priority to find out who had done this, and... couldn't decide what to do with the culprit, perhaps con him out of all his possessions, or drive him into destitution. Perhaps he should kill the culprit. This idea gave Robert the a  similar feeling of satisfaction as he received when he completed a particularly difficult con.

He had never killed anyone before, he had never needed to defend himself. This emotion was therefore a little strange, and would bear examination before deciding how to deal with it.

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And there he is.

Part of the reason that I wanted to work on him tonight was that I just finished playing the D&D character that is most similar to him. It's interesting to try to get inside the headspace of what I would classify as a "high functioning sociopath" who feels only limited emotions. I don't know how accurate the rather dispassionate benevolence is, though I imagine that for him it's a sort of mental balancing of the scales rather than any kind of sense of righteousness or fair play.

I'd thought about having him have multiple personalities, but that sounded a little complicated and convoluted. I won't rule it out, but for now I think I'm just going to keep him this way.

Comments and suggestions are always welcomed, and valued. Even if you just want to say how you feel about something, feedback is a gift.

And as always, Thanks for Reading!

Coming to grips with faith

A lot going on today, so I didn't have time to write a whole lot today, which seems to be the norm on the weekends. At some point I may have to rethink my schedule of writing, and possibly go 5 day a week, and just add something on the weekends if I have time.

But for now, here's something I had done already.

I have a hard time with faith. Growing up I've been taught to accept a lot of things that I later found out weren't really true, like Santa, the Easter Bunny, and Christopher Columbus discovering America. The more you find out that things you once accepted aren't true, the more you become disillusioned and skeptical. One might say "jaded" and to a certain extent that's true, but I think that implies a cynicism that I don't really feel. Some truths are hard to accept, and if the way you come to those truths is through a well intentioned lie, or fabrication then it's difficult to think that there was any malicious intent. It's certainly possible, but I find that maintaining a positive attitude about these things helps keep stress and alienation from turning me into a total bastard.
So that tends to be how I see religion. A largely well intentioned lie meant to help people be better people.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I still think there are people out there who use religion for their own personal gain, and to have control over people, and how they think, and to promote rampant bigotry and hate. But that’s not the fault of most people.

Most people just need comfort. And the idea of a larger-than-life father figure, who loves you and wants nothing but the best for you is far more comforting than feeling that you’re on your own, randomly bouncing around the world, subject to the most random whims of coincidence. People fear chaos, so they choose to believe in order. They fear the unknown, so they give it a name, so they can know it. People fear death so they tell themselves that it won’t be the enxd. And this is what they call God.

How could you not want this? An answer to all life’s insecurities, a voice in the darkness that says “You are not alone. I’m here and I’m going to take care of you. I will protect you and then when it’s time I’ll bring you home.” I can’t object to that. I can’t tell someone that it’s just a fabrication. That would be like telling a three year old there’s no Santa.

You might get the impression from this, if you happen to be a believer that I find your faith a bit silly. Well… you have to look at it from my perspective. If I told you I had an imaginary friend named Wilkerson who was a tortoise who only spoke in iambic pentameter and that he was a ghost that nobody could see or hear, not even me… you would probably think I was a bit silly too. But far from that, I think it’s an understandable silliness. It’s the kind of silly I can understand.

In fact if it had more "love everybody" and less "persecute everybody" and maybe take out the jihad all together then I think I would have no problem with religion . After all were all in this together, we have to look out for one another. Maybe then we'll feel a little less afraid.

Magic World: Rachele Albini, the Leader

Okay then.

Yesterday I fleshed out a character that I already knew to a certain extent. I'd had him rattling around in my brain, I just had to work out a few details. Honestly the result of that surprised me. I did not have any intention of making him the child of a home broken by physical abuse. But once the idea occurred to me, suddenly it couldn't be any other way.

I wonder if other writers have these kinds of surprises when they write. I mean when you're writing you have to assume that there are things happening in the world the audience doesn't see, but that doesn't mean that as a writer you have any more notion that they're happening. But of course when you fill in those details later so that it suits the story, everyone thinks you're a genius. I often wonder how much of the back-story J K Rowling really had. I mean sure there were some fairly big things she had to know like about (--redacted--) or how  (--redacted--) was really  (--redacted--) because there are allusions to it in the story. But some of the fine details had to have been fleshed out on the fly.

But today I have a different task in mind. Today I need to create a character from scratch.  I have a good number of characters for my Magic World so far, but one that I've been missing, is the leader of the little group of misfits. I don't have much of an idea, except that she is a woman, and I'm leaning toward ex-military, which is what I'm thinking for most of these characters. That might might go either way though, so we'll have to see.

But one thing I'm pretty good at is making up D&D characters from Zero concept to fully formed character, which someone might have to do if their character is somehow unceremoniously *ahem* decapitated for example. So I'm thinking of approaching this as a D&D build, which means I need a Race, Class, and Concept. So let's just start filling in the blanks

Name: Rachele Raffaella Albini
Race: Elf
Gender: Female
Height: 5' 9"
Weight: 110 lbs
Eyes: Black
Hair: Blonde
Alignment:Sarcastic Neutral
Affiliation:

When I come up with a character for the first time, and I don't have a concept in mind, it helps me to find a living base, a person around whom I can build the idea of the character, who embodies the concept I'm looking for, or who fits SOME of those concepts, but who also has other qualities that may help to inform other aspects of the character. So for this character I had several ideas ranging from Milla Jovovich, Kate Beckinsale, Eliza Dushku, Gabrielle Anwar, Lena Headly, even Daryll Hannah when she was in Kill Bill.

But finally I settled on Maria Bello. She seems to have the particular thing I'm looking for where she can be charismatic, sarcastic, sexy, yet haggard, as if life has treated her a bit roughly but she's gotten by because she's learned to play rough too. She also reminds me a bit of Carrie Fisher, back in the Star Wars era, with the voice, they sense of humor. And she's not afraid to get her hands dirty.

So let's start the back-story.

Rachele was born to Italian immigrants who came to the US a few years after World War II, (putting her in her 60s, elves age just a little slower than humans with median death age being around 90-110, which would make her the human equivalent of early 40s.) Her parents both died of Polio when she was 4. They were working in hard conditions, her father was a coal miner, and her mother a seamstress, both working for very little pay in hard conditions in very close proximity to others. It's unclear who contracted the disease, but one gave it to the other, and both died without seeing their daughter again.

Rachele was in communal care with several other children of immigrants who were working to pay off their debts for their transport to the US, but when her parents died she was put into an orphanage. Her life there was difficult, with both boys and girls thrown together. Most of the children there were several years older than her, their parents having died in WWII, and they were resentful of the younger children whom they always felt got better treatment. She learned to fight to survive, but also to defend those who weren't able to defend themselves. By the age of 7 she had earned the respect of all the younger children, for being a defender and an organizer, and among the older kids, who she treated fairly and with respect after having kicked their asses.

When she was 14 she had to leave the Orphanage when the new caretaker took an unhealthy interest in her and the other girls. She was the only one who was brave enough to go out on her own, and she knew that the other girls would be in trouble, so before she left she stole the cyanide that was used to poison the rats in the sewers beneath the orphanage. She'd read up on the dosages, and knew how much it would take to kill the new caretaker, and she used two-thirds that amount in the wine he drank with his dinner the night she left. As he sat writhing sickly a few minutes after he had downed the glass, she came in the window, shoving his face gleefully into his food. She told him about the cyanide, and explained to him exactly the dosage she would need to kill him, and that she would be checking up on the girls, and that if she ever found out that he had done anything to any of them, he would have to check his food and drink for the rest of his life, which, she promised, would be quite short. She smiled casually as she told him all this, then tossed the antidote kit that was kept near the cyanide bottle on the table and calmly left out the window.

The following four years she traveled the country, hitchhiking mostly, doing odd jobs, and seeing the backroads and trails from the cabs of mac trucks and vans, and other vehicles. She dealt violently with those who tried to take her by force. She was not squeamish at all about hurting people, and managed to steal a knife from a drunk asshole who wasn't really sober enough to try to fight her. Leaving his drunk ass without his wallet on the side of the highway was how she had gotten her first car too, a 1968 firebird, when she was sixteen. She forged his name on the title and signed it over to herself, claiming she had paid $200 for it. When she flashed a little elven cleavage at the county  assessor, he smiled and signed off on the paperwork, reasoning that there was no way a skinny little elf girl could possibly steal a car from a man.

When she turned 18 she joined the Marines Womens Reserve, and spent a few years working as auto mechanic, a skill she picked up keeping the Firebird in good repair. Her unit was involved in several engagements, and in most of them she managed to acquire one of her male compatriots rifles, against orders, and assisted in defending their unit. A few times she was promoted for valor and demoted for insubordination,  once nearly at the same time. The hypocrisy soon wore thin on her, so when the CIA approached her after she had come to their attention, she took up their offer, and left the Marines (though she got the tattoo on her shoulder before she left.)

The CIA appreciated her self-reliance, and willingness to do violence, and she spend the next several decades learning languages and fighting styles, and firearms, tactics, but more importantly influence. She learned how to manipulate people, and put ideas in their heads, and soon she was leading a team of her own. She operated in the deteriorating soviet block during the last part of the Cold War, and managed a few coups that allowed a few countries to gain independence, "all for Uncle Sam" she would say sarcastically. She worked with a Military Magical Engineer for a while, but much of her records during that time are classified (meaning I don't want to try to flesh that part out just yet.) And following that, she was offered a choice of a desk in Langley, or Forced Retirement. She chose the latter, traveling the world, doing work for the vast network of international informants and allies, to generally help out the underdogs, and work with the military forces of any country that was fighting for independence.

The she got a call that an old friend had died, and headed back to America.

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Well that was interesting! Again, just kinda came out of nowhere. This was a bit difficult because I  had wanted her to be a badass, but for the time period I wan't sure how I would get her into combat. Thank goodness for the CIA who is willing to use anyone, so long as they can do the job. At least in my version of the world. In reality women weren't really recruited till the 80's though the info I saw may have just been a clever ruse.

EDIT: 1/9/2014 After reading something written by Jim Butcher about how to write, I wanted to go ahead and add some details about Rachele's character to make the character more interesting and to fill out some details. The first thing is adding TAGS, which are key words tied to that character, and used almost solely in conjunction with that character and TRAITS which are concepts or things associated with that character, almost a trademark, like certain clothes, hair, attitude, and other types of things that are easy to imagine.

 TAGS: Haunted, Sardonic, Lean, black-eyed, unsettling.

TRAITS: Dirty Blonde Hair, Half-smile, Faded chestnut-brown leather jacket, blue jeans, Quick Temper, sarcasm,

Exaggerated: Quick Tempter, (able to control when the stakes are high) Moody, wicked sense of humor, "been in the game a long time," knows how to lead, how to encourage.

Exotic Position: 60 year old elf in the CIA.

Anyway, I'm done for the night. I get very few comments or suggestions, so don't be shy people, they are welcomed. And as always...

Thanks for Reading!