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Name: Caledonia Mary Anne McPherson. AKA Cally, Cal, Mary Murphy,
Caledonia Shearer, and 'Rose'.
Template: Sarcastic, pessimistic, alcoholic chain-smoking ex-junkie/teenage
prostitute. Unafraid to speak her mind or beat the crap out of anybody she feels deserves it. The typical girl next door,
if you happen to live next door to the state penitentery.
Species: Half-Anglo Orga (Irish/Gypsy)
Age: 30 (20
June, 2108, but due to cryrogenic freezing looks four years younger)
Gender: female, hetrosexual
Height: 5'8''
Weight: 136 lbs
Physical description: Early 30s, sickly pale skin with red hair, mostly muscle. Has a linked
tribal tattoo on her right arm that was inked on at the insistance of Lord Johnson-Johnson, to give her a 'wilder' image.
She constantly has a cigarette in her mouth, feels the need to wear sunglasses all hours of the day or night. Sharp grey eyes
and a laugh roughly akin to a hyena with bronchitis. No makeup but wears a silver crucifix at all times, having had it locked
onto her in reform school. Not a cover girl, but quite pretty in a hungry sort of way, and would probably be beautiful if
she took a little more care of herself...like any. Speaks with an Irish accent and occassionly trips up her words when she
gets excited. It would take several sailors and stable boys working for weeks to swear as much as she does in one sentence.
Background: Caledonia Mary Anne McPherson was born in New Dublin, the capital of the Irish Archipelago, the second
of six children. Her parents, hitman/bartender Feargal McPherson and his Gypsy wife Caroline O'Faolain, lived with their children
and Caroline's enormous family on the waterfront in New Dublin. Cal's parents were devoted to their children and each other,
and Cal grew up idolising her father and caring for her younger siblings. Cal's upbringing was poor and paranoid, living in
constant fear of arrest or the family being split up by the government. As a result Cal, the oldest daughter and most reasonable
of them all, became very protective of her siblings, trying to shield them from the violence of their daily lives.
Cal
grew into an aggressive teenager, nurturing a bitter hatred of the English politicians who controlled her country and of the
Irish government that had sold its people out. She spent much of her time at the wharfside or at illegal boxing matches, experimenting
with drugs and alcohol to help ease the utter hopelessness she saw around her. At age 11 she shot and killed a man sent by
her father's rival to wipe out her family, and at 13 was arrested for improper documentation, finally being sent to St. Anne's
Academy for Wayward Girls in Galway. She spent two years under constant supervision and reform, losing her virginity to a
52-year-old priest in exchange for moderate protection against the mother superior's brutal tactics. Cal escaped at fifteen
by hiding in a laundry basket and swimming towards a nearby island, promising her family that she would sooner kill herself
than go back.
By the time Cal was 15 she decided that if she ever wanted to make something of herself besides a professional
delinquent she would have to leave Ireland, and so immigrated to Brixton, London with her boyfriend Rory Hagen.
Now
15, homeless, a runaway, undocumented and nursing a heroin addiction, Cal took work as a drug pusher and hired killer for
a Dubliner named Johnny Godson, otherwise known at Lord Johnson-Johnson. Settling in South London, she shared a council flat
with Rory and two others in equally dire financial and drug straits.
Shortly after her seventeenth birthday Cal became
pregnant, but was shot six months later as an act of revenge by a rival gang. Cal lapsed into a coma, and four years later
she awoke from a cryrogenic imprisonment, where she had been sentenced for being an undocumented individual and for carrying
an unauthorised pregnancy. Cal never learned if she had miscarried or if her child was still alive, and so decided to put
it behind her and never think about it.
Now 21, unemployed and with a record, Cal decided it would be best if she
left the United Archipelagos entirely, and requested help from her godfather, the owner and operator of A Foreign Affair International
Dating Service. He reluctantly arranged a quick marriage between her and an American man, Harold Shearer, looking for a young
Irish wife, and Cal moved to America two days after her 22nd birthday. She was married within three weeks of meeting her fiancé
in the aeroport terminal, and prepared to live the rest of her life in a suburb outside Trenton, New Jersey, the wife of a
data technician for RobbyVille Inc. Cal spent two years as a company wife, attending picnics, Christmas parties and cribbage
matches and trying to stop a drift she felt was taking hold of her. She again fell pregnant and again lost the child, this
time for no apparent reason other than "bad karma". She sunk into a deep depression, wondering if she would ever get any sort
of life together, and avoiding all urging by her husband to get help. In the midst of her lowest point, she opened the door
one night to find Rory standing on her doorstep, and the dead part of her rekindled. Within the month she'd packed a few belongings,
left a packet of divorce papers on the kitchen table, and fled into the night. Settling in Rouge City, Cal drifted for the
next few months, not sure where her life was going or what would happen to her next. She took a cheap flat in the Zona Rosa
district of Rouge City and spent most of her time wandering around the city, becoming a regular fixture on many bar stools
and trying to stop the drift. She got a job with the recently-relocated Lord Johnson-Johnson, who now ran a Flesh Fair outside
Haddonfield. Although technically employed as a bounty hunter, her job also included "breaking the ice" with reluctant business
partners of Lord Johnson-Johnson, or killing them if they'd served their purpose. Because her citizenship was revoked when
she divorced, she lives solely under whatever protection the Old Fucker can give her, and if that means occasionally giving
him a free ride between the sheets, so be it. She worked too damn hard to get out of Ireland to ever go back.
The first
Christmas Eve after her divorce, Cal's life was abruptly changed by the unexpected arrival of a young boy named Nicky Panzini.
Nicky, an abused 12-year-old who lived down her hall set up residence in her various flats, and now at 18 is her employee,
advisor, and closest thing she has to a friend.
Currently Cal resides in a slightly better flat in Rouge City, doing
her damndest to clean up her act and stay alive one more day, keep in the country, avoid veneral disease, and get Nicky out
of the city and into university.
Personality: Takes life with a heavy dose of pessimism. An 'equal-oppertunity
bigot', she hates both Orga and Mecha (as well as whites, blacks, Catholics, athiests...) with a passion. Fiercely loyal to
friends (all two of them) and family, but will not hesitate to shoot your head off if she thinks you've crossed her. Very
protective of Nicky, probably the closest thing she can ever come to being maternal, in the way that wolves are maternal.
Cal is paranoid and considers her Desert Eagle .50 her best friend, and sleeps with it in her hand. She's substituted heroin
for scotch, has a two pack a day smoking habit. Surprisingly well-adjusted and if she isnt the smartest person alive, she's
clever enough to make up for it. Lives by the adage, "Until tomorrow, live for today." Considered reckless by many, but make
no mistake: Cal is a very dangerous person to know. A life of self-abuse and hardship has caused Cal to become conditioned
to violence to a point where she has a near inability to feel remorse for any of her actions. She has a general hatred of
humanity, and would be more than happy if half the population dropped dead.
Objectives: Make money and stay alive
for the next 24 hours.
A Quote:
"If you loved me, you'd all kill yourselves today." -- Spider Jerusalem
"Another
year has passed and I'm all right/ I lick the salt from my wounds and run into the night"-- The Distillers, "I Am a Revenant"
Special Quirks, etc.: Inexplicably has a lot of soap around, a habit nobody has been able to figure out. Having to
share a single bathroom with 7 others has caused her to be very obsessive of keeping her own clean and neat. Has a crushing,
unexplainable fear of salamanders. Dynamite in the sack.
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