Adrannis's Questionnaire

I reside in one of Vancouver's many suburbs, in the garage of a woman named Michaela Bauer. I rent it from her for very cheap on the condition that I converse with her frequently. She has no car, so my presence is of no inconvenience to her. I live in Vancouver out of both choice and necessity - I don't have the desire, much less the resources, to leave. Vancouver is also where my closest and, frankly, only friend lives - Gaser Rasgick. When my parents died, he was the only person to willing and able to take care of me. My home is a tidy and sparse room of concrete and metal - a hot plate, mini fridge, and sink make up my kitchen. I save as much money as I can for my future - if I even have one.

My income is mostly from my employment at the McDonald's nearest my place of residence. Due to my limited formal education and lack of desire to go further beyond my General Educational Development high school equivalency program, I make do with the limited pay that is facilitated by my low rent costs. I don't want for much, so my excess wealth is stored for safekeeping or spent on necessities. My only luxury of note is my pet rat, Quinn. I do my best to care for her and most of the money I spend goes to high-quality bedding and other such novelties for her. I'm not entirely certain she can appreciate them, which almost makes me more inclined to continue to funnel my wealth into her well-being.

My ambition is to end homelessness, or at the very least eradicate it to such a degree that the word for it is no longer necessary. I believe that the causation tends to be a lack of funding and infrastructure, as other countries seems to have no problem ceasing or significantly reducing it. Hundreds of thousands of dollars are spent on shuffling homeless people around and making their lives hell rather than simply giving them the tools and resources they need to get back on their feet. Though I resent the system in which we are forced to live, I recognize that even it would benefit from having these people be healthy, secure, and productive, so why does it refuse to extend even the smallest of helping hands? I intend to risk my life to gain the resources to become a large enough power that I cannot be ignored. If people dying of a lack of basic needs isn't enough to force the system to change, I will grow in strength and influence until I can remake it myself. I hope that a peaceful accord can be reached with the powers that be, but I have no qualms about sacrificing those that choose to stand my way. I have little, but I will give anything of myself to see my goal completed. I do not intend to fail.

I would consider the most defining event of my life to be the death of my parents. I was very young when it happened, but I recalled their various entanglements with the authorities and did not think it wise to remain a ward of the state. I think back on this frequently, as it may be the most important decision I have ever made. Its consequences continue to shape who I am today, but I do not think I regret it. I met Gaser, and became much a more socially conscious person than I might have otherwise. Although I wonder what sort of person I might have become had I had a "normal" childhood, I do not envy that hypothetical me. My life is simple, but it is safe. I wish everyone could say the same.

The person I am closest to is, of course, Gaser Rasgick. A burly man for his height, he's been homeless for longer than I've been alive. I've tried to find housing for him, but he claims to prefer living on the street. An eccentricity, I suppose. He's a very kind person, and likely the most influential person in my life. I would trust him with anything. He knows of my intentions, but does not share his opinions on them. I can only hope I will do him proud.

The other person I interact with frequently is Michaela Bauer. She is a slight woman of age, and a grandmother of two. They are close to my age, but do not visit often. Michaela is likely the sole reason I have any form of structure, as her willingness to trade her garage for my company is quite generous, if a little depressing. Still, she is polite enough, and spends her time making personal tea blends she forces me to try. I suspect I could learn just as much from her as I have from Gaser, should I choose to. I hope that if I should perish before I achieve my goals that she will not take it too hard.

The third "person" I would consider to be in my life would be Quinn, my rat. She is an Australian Swamp Rat, and quite large for her species. She is, embarrassingly, the living creature I would say I talk to the most, as I feel she does not judge me when I speak aloud. She merely stares at me with curious, round eyes. I have cared for her for nearly two years, and I suspect I will be quite distraught when she inevitably succumbs to her age, but for now she is comfortable and healthy. I do what I can to ensure she remains so.

My genetic parents died when I was young. I was then raised by a man named Gaser Rasgick. Gaser was homeless, as I found myself, but he took care of me, and then taught me to take care of myself. I have no formal education save for the General Education Development high school equivalency program, but Gaser sought to teach me as much as he could while I was under his wing. I have been learned a little bit about a lot of things, but the skills I honed the most were those of survival. Awareness and general Dexterity, with just enough knowledge on how to scrap should I need to. I feel comfortable with the amount I know in most situations, as always having an inkling of an idea of what you're up against has generally been my preference. Perhaps I may have benefitted from more formal schooling than the bare minimum, but I have never felt unduly disadvantaged by Gaser's choice to mentor me on his own. I do, however, believe it to be a flaw both in public aid and public schooling how a child can be raised without a roof and still go toe-to-toe with who would be their peers otherwise.

I have never been romantically attracted to someone in a way that I would equate with proper romantic love. I found I have never had the time or desire to pursue anything of the sort, and still think along those lines, perhaps out of habit. I believe myself to be alloromantic, but I supposed I have no evidence for that argument. I am not opposed to the concept of mutual romantic affection, but now more than ever do I think that I don't have time to maintain such a relationship. If it is meant to be, it will be, I imagine.

Public speaking? Thinking about fear is unproductive, I find. I'm afraid of plenty of things - heights, monsters, and, amusingly, the dark. Aside from public speaking, I'm relatively confident that what I fear is fairly common - fear is an animalistic instinct, not having any would be just as worrying as the actual subjects of fears. It's hard to explain "why" I'm afraid of these things - I just am. And public speaking is a stretch - while I struggle with being the sole attention of a crowd, I'm not afraid of it in the same way I am of plummeting to my death. Heights, monsters, and the dark can all be overcome in a pragmatic way. I am afraid of them ending my life, but I know that I have at least some say in preventing them from doing so. The only worry I have that I might quantify as a fear is the death of another. While I have a lot of say into how my own life is lived and eventually going to end, I have less so in the case of others. Quinn is nearing the end of her life, and while I am confident I have done all I can to extend it without prolonging it, I will still mourn the day she inevitably perishes. Gaser is a stubborn man, and any help I directly offer is politely declined. While I don't hold it against him, I also know that he is just as mortal as I, as Quinn. I have little, I fear losing what I possess anyway.

Quinn. Quinn is the only "thing" I own that I cannot replace. She is of course her own living creature, but legally she belongs to me. I have developed the theory that being attached to something makes it all the more tempting for an unrelated party to attempt to take it from you for no reason than their own sick pleasure. Objects can come and go, but people stay a little longer. Even if "people" is a rat. I have always found it morbidly fascinating that some people can be so dismissive of other life forms. I occasionally hear stories of someone's casual disregard for nonhuman life, and while I agree that human lives tend to matter more - they seem to take that idea to an extreme. I could never understand somebody's belief that putting down a pet because they're an inconvenience is a justified thing to do. Quinn is not particularly special. I will mourn her eventual death, and then I will have to move on. It is the way things are. But that does not mean I have to like it.

Frankly, nothing. My life as of right now is both safe and pleasant. It hasn't always been this way, and I still feel on edge most of the time, but a steady source of food and a place to sleep, however modest, has made my life significantly easier. I suppose that in and of itself is my biggest problem - not having one. It permits me to devote my resources to altruism, I suppose. I try to spend as much time as I can volunteering at The Door Is Open, the soup kitchen near Japantown, and that tends make me feel as if I have some purpose beyond simply surviving. Seeing uncountable faces when I do so though tends to make me just as discouraged - there's so much that needs to change, so much that needs to be reformed. And I'm just one person. But I have a goal that I have set my mind to, and I do not intend to fail, damn the consequences. I will be a sacrificial lamb if I must, as long as it gets me what I want.

I sleep on a old mattress without a bedframe. My home is all one room, but I have heating, plumbing, electricity, and an area curtained off for a toilet and shower. I don't like coffee, but I sometimes brew Earl Grey in the mornings for the caffeine. I wake up early out of habit, but I struggle with forcing myself to sleep, so I've given up on trying to change my sleep schedule. Depending on how much time I have, I'll either grab something ready-made or will cook something for breakfast. Quinn's a light eater, so if I know that I'll be home late then I'll give her extra because she's smart enough to ration it. I don't usually shower in the mornings, but if I didn't the night before for some reason I would take a shower at this point. On the incredibly rare occasion that I wake up late, I'll skip everything except feeding myself and Quinn.

I’m not exactly sure. I don’t own any formal clothes, and I doubt that I would look my best if I was wearing them anyhow. I would shower, obviously, and maybe braid my hair, but that would only take 40 minutes or so. I have a slightly less worn sweater that I could wear in a semi-formal setting, but I don’t own any pants beyond jeans. I suppose it would take several hours for me to get ready, as I would need to go out to purchase new clothes that are dress code appropriate. If I had to choose for a formal environment, I would wear black and red, but beyond that I know little of clothing, especially high-end clothing. A suit? I think I would wear a suit. I suppose I would buy one instead of renting, but I wouldn’t have any way of cleaning it. None of my clothes need to be dry-cleaned, so wearing it more than once every few months would be inconvenient.

My birthday is October 8th. It is a Tuesday this, so I intend to go to work. Afterwards I will walk home whilst listening to music. Perhaps I might play a game or watch/read some other form of media, and then I will go out via public transit to meet Gaser. I will purchase us dinner and then we will converse over the meal. Afterwards I will go home and feed Quinn, then shower before going to sleep. This is the schedule I have followed for the past 2 years, and I don't see why it would change this time.

Well. I think you know that.

But if you're referring to before the Contracts, I'm not really sure I can say. I've always been a very cautious person, and even with limited information forethought can be very valuable. I do not often make mistakes severe enough to regret, and those that I do I try my best to learn from. A harsh lesson can still be a lesson. The decision that I have made of which I ponder the most would be the decision to flee. A significant branch of paths. Had I remained, I might still have had a harsh life, but one with a degree of shelter. However, I choose to believe that being forced to weather the realities of the world at such a young age hardened me, so to speak. I am not emotionally closed-off, but I do my best to avoid displays of emotion when not alone, especially in front of strangers.

It would not do well to agonize over the choices of the past. I did what I did, now I must bear the consequences. I can hardly fault my past self for lacking hindsight.

I'm not totally sure. I mean it's obviously not just something I could learn to do, but to say it's wishes being granted seems a little bit deceptive. As of answering this, I can punch hard and quiet, climb walls, and use my skin as ammunition for a magic collapsing bow. I've been learned a bit of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu purely because I needed a hobby, but grapples and chokes aren't what I've been relying on for Contracts. I've watched a handful of videos about urban exploration that have helped for climbing what shouldn't be climbed, but literally walking on walls wasn't covered. And I don't even know where to start with Shadequiver. Being a 'Living Shadow' was something of a pipe dream when I was younger and more reliant on being unseen, but now that I am a quote-unquote "productive member of society" I feel even more unseen than ever. I like to think of myself as a pragmatic person, and the Gifts I have recieved are very practical in that they're generally useful, but not flashy or specific. I've incapacitated several people and a couple wolves without harming them, held a door with someone else's gun while being hidden on the ceiling, and threatened a teenager and destroyed a generator with Shadequiver, none of which were the first thing that came to mind upon learning what my Gift was. So perhaps my Gifts are neither unlocked potential or granted wishes, but a challenge in lateral thinking.

We live in a world where ghosts, ghouls, and goblins of all manner pop up on a basis common enough for evidence of them to be everywhere, so I don't see why an all-knowing and all-seeing capital 'G' God couldn't exist. I just think that they probably don't, since surely a being of whose image in which we are made couldn't be so vindictive, right?

Gaser is not quite Buddhist, but practices enough of its teachings that most would consider him to be. I would consider him to be. I think that Buddhism has some valuable ideas to share, but like all major religions it can be misinterpreted by the foolish and the malicious. I myself try to practice the five precepts, more out of convenience than an actual desire to be uplifted. I've enacted and permitted enough violence that I might be considered a hypocrite, though. I would consider myself a hypocrite.

I believe that there are powers and 'beings' (if that even is the right word for it) beyond my comprehension, mostly because I rely on them on a day-to-day basis. I also think that they probably don't give a shit about me in particular. I wouldn't begrudge someone else their beliefs, but I don't hold many of my own.

I'm not sure they do? My beliefs are hardly steadfast. I was aware of the ghosts and ghouls and goblins, and now I've met some of them. My worldview is mostly just 'Don't die. Don't let your friends die.' and I've tried my best to keep to that. Self-preservation is and has always been my first instinct, but I'm not a monster. I don't want people to die for no reason. That's why I'm here. To have less people die for no reason. And perhaps I could try to do more to prevent deaths in my quest to prevent deaths, but if I don't survive to complete my mission, who will? I've made what I might consider friendly acquaintances in my work with the Contracts. They're much more accustomed to danger than most people in Vancouver, and are easier to get along with (probably because if we don't, we die). And while I've done little to keep contact with them outside of our mutual horribly dangerous job, I do prefer working with them to complete strangers.

Theseus Tropir is a strange guy. He's very friendly, but he tends to rely on media tropes as his lens for the world. I am unsure if it is some sort of trauma response to the extreme stress The Contracts put us under, or if he is genuinely just *that* neurodivergent. He's incredibly capable, and always a boon for the Contracts we work together for, but I will confess my wariness to his mental well-being.

Jacob Sterns is an unspeakably average boy. I mean that as a compliment, as it takes a lot of work to be normal, and in fairness, he is above average in a lot of respects. Other than his uncanny knowledge of the Occult, he seems to rely on inherent talent to perform most actions, and all of his supernatural abilities seem relegated to the magic artefacts he borrows from the British Museum. I like him, but I also feel uncomfortable trying to speak to a 16-year-old as an equal.

Tescoh Topping has something going on. I'm not sure what, but I suspect if I continue to Contract with them I will find out. They're quite adept with matters of dialogue, and I will confess my interest in their behaviour. I'm not sure I've ever met someone that speaks so erratically, as if they're physically incapable of telling the truth. Or perhaps they are just incredibly, incredibly stupid. I intend to discover which.

Simple, dim, and quiet. I have begun to notice my aversion to light since I started my work as a Contractor. It's not painful, or even uncomfortable, really, it's just a preference. My preference for quiet has always been present, though it has receded somewhat as I have begun developing a tolerance due to how much I must endure on Contracts. I haven't decorated my single-room garage home much, I just have the necessities tucked away in a corner and a desk with my computer. I have quite a bit of disposable income due to my low cost of living, but I usually just hoard money and tuck it away in a savings account. I am the poorest rich person. At the very least, Contracts have given me an excuse to spend money, even if it is at the alternative of literally dying. Nothing like mortality to provide encouragement, I suppose.

I wouldn't say I excel at anything in particular, although I do pick up skills rather quickly. While I was reasonably good at most everything before beginning my Contract work, I have improved upon my skills much since then. I remain rather inept in social situations, but that is by design - I do not care to learn the nuances of interaction. Brute force is much easier when dealing with problems I tend to come across. I suppose my dexterous and intellectual skills are more refined, but that is mostly from reliance, not proper practice. I would consider myself above average at almost everything, and exceptional in a few things - and that is generally the ideal way to be, in my opinion. There are others more versed in hand-to-hand combat or stealth than me, but among the thieves I am the greatest brawler and among the brawlers I am the greatest thief. That is enough for me.

I suppose my affinity for animals should be discussed first. Some may find it odd that I care more for animals than people, especially when I am not some isolated shaman. But animals, even sapient ones, tend to act in a way that is purer than most humans do, at least in my experience. Corvids hold court over murder. Rats squeal with delight when playing hide-and-seek. Most creatures live for themselves and their family, and exist with the intent of surviving and thriving. While it's more appealing when mammals do it than insects, the rule is the same - survival of the fittest. While some douche-y businesspeople will tell you the same, they are much less sincere about it - for somebody bent their back in exertion to get them where they are, and it is very rarely them. But survival of the fittest works both ways - if it is me or them, I will always pick me.

I do not enjoy physical or mental anguish. While I don't think I would crack immediately in an interrogation room, that doesn't mean I'm eager to find out. I cry when I get hurt. I seek painkillers when I have a headache. I am still human, after all. I do not relish forcing myself to go through extended periods of pain, but if it is necessary then I grin and bear it. I do what I must.

My freedom has always been an important part of my life, I suppose. Not in the way that many mean it, but in the sense that I can choose what I do and don't do. I can go where I like, with little inhibiting me from leaving. I rarely make commitments, and always try to leave a backdoor. Surrendering my freedom is not easy, but it is something I could do if I needed to. But I'd rather not need to.

Part of the reason I generally dislike poetry as a medium is its lack of directness. I have, for most of my memorable life, struggled with subtext. I can infer and make conclusions related to many things, and I don't think I struggle with media literacy - it's purely the one aspect of extrapolating meaning that is not explicit that I find issue with. Poetry, as a whole, tends to rely on that. Many mediums do, but poetry is the most frustrating to me because it uses words - the tool I use and am best with - to create several layers of subtext. I try not to be too annoyed by my struggle to interpret underlying meanings in art. Anytime I've asked someone who seems able to how they're able to reach the conclusions they do, I generally get an answer along the lines of "you just have to feel it."

And I do! Sort of. I have feelings, I'm not a sociopath. I struggle to identify them, even when I recognize when I'm having an overwhelming amount. I have, through a lot of effort, learned how and when to step back to refocus and understand how I might be influenced by my emotional state. So yes, when I view art with significant amounts of subtext, I can understand the general emotion trying to be conveyed. It's still frustrating though, to be right at the goalpost and not be able to cross.

Music is, inarguably, poetry. Thus, it falls under the same category of subtext-heavy-word-reliant art that so ticks me off. The difference, however, is that music is actually enjoyable to experience, rather than being entirely about the interpretation. At least, that's how I view poetry.

I am, very obviously, projecting my insecurity onto people who seems to have an easier time grasping subtext. I am, and have been, aware of this, but I haven't felt particularly obliged to stop since I assumed I wasn't hurting anyone but myself.

I'm not totally certain. The powers I have gained thus far have been rather brutish, to be candid. They're not particularly suited for mass systemic change from within. I could try to enter politics without relying on my powers, but that seems even more hopeless. The direction I am being nudged in seems to be to influence the system from the outside. It's a volatile, dangerous route, but not one I intend to shy away from. As I've said, I will do what needs to be done. I don't think it's irrelevant that tens of thousands of people have set out on the same path as me, and very few have even made a dent beyond keeping bellies full (though that is important).

Retiring is something hard to foresee. Contracts aren't like a typical job, where I put a little bit of money every other week in a pension fund and get a little bit more 60 years down the line. The work I do is dangerous, and doesn't even contribute to rent. The powers I have gained are useful, but inconsistent, and not particularly useful for influencing the people in power beyond threats of violence. Perhaps one day I will gain the ability to control minds, but until then, the future remains unknown.

The one thing I do know, however, is that I don't intend to die. I will crawl back up from hell if I must, but my goals will be completed before I rest. And now, I do have something to say about it.

Stupidity and hubris. Not hubris in the deific sense, more the general "thinking you're superior to others". I've encountered several Contractors that have rubbed me the wrong way, generally because they are comically bad at decision-making or are an arrogant prick (or both). I try my best to work with these people for our mutual benefit, but not everyone is so pragmatic. I can't really speak to why those things make me angry, they just do. Generally, I don't allow my actions to be influenced by my emotions, and even when someone pisses me off I can withdraw my feelings from the situation in order to achieve a desirable result. Of course, it's more preferable when acting in a manner that befits my emotions will lead to a desirable result.

Stupidity is easy enough to condemn. When people don't think their actions through or choose to spurn the instructions of someone more knowledgeable than them in a given field, the consequences of their actions invoke much less compassion. Not that they automatically don't deserve it, just that empathy is much harder to feel.

When people with significant ego are cut down, not only does it spur less sympathy, it tends to cause others to be happier. Schadenfreude. Seeing someone who thinks they're hot shit suddenly be shown the difference between their perceived and actual ability is quite gratifying. There are instances, however, in which the same set of circumstance might invoke a feeling of emptiness rather than joy, however. They're still people, however misguided they may have been, and while help may have come too late, that doesn't mean it wasn't warranted.

In the thick of it, it can be hard to empathize with someone you dislike. But that doesn't mean they don't deserve it. At the time, they might have made me angry, but right now - I just feel empty.

Kind of ruins the point of keeping a secret to be asked this question, no?

I don't really keep anything secret. My supernatural powers, I guess, but that's out of convenience, not an actual desire to be seen as a regular person. Truthfully, I couldn't care less about most things about myself being public or not. Convenient for information collection agencies, I imagine, but that doesn't really change my opinion.

That's not to say I'm an open book, or that I feel the need to share everything about myself, just that if someone else tries to discover something about me I'm not going to go out of my way to stop them (unless they saw me committing a crime). And I imagine that's pretty regular. I don't have a particularly interesting backstory, but since nothing of note can be shared, that also means nothing of note can be discovered. If someone goes through the effort to learn my "deepest, darkest" secrets then they're just wasting their time, there's nothing to learn.

Fucking *what*? Why would I want to be a Harbinger? I have yet to meet one that I actually like as a person, if they can even be considered one. The best they tend to be is "tolerable". What would be the use of having all that power, anyways? To sit on my ass with? What the fuck kind of question is that?

I've calmed down.

Harbingers, for all their strength, are clearly bound by some set of rules. Whether they are self-imposed or not, I am uncertain, but they clearly *can* help the world in significant ways and either are forbidden from or choose not to be doing so. I certainly wouldn't agree to those sorts of limitations, had I the choice.

So why on earth would I even consider the question? It's a hypothetical so absurd that it's more worth considering a world where politicians don't lie.

If I make if far enough to be considered for Harbingership or whatever, I'll gladly tell whatever Power that commands them to fuck right off.

When I die, my soul, if such a thing exists, is going to Maikendo. If the soul does not exist, then a copy of my personality will go to Maikendo. Either way, it doesn't matter, because I'm dead.

I imagine most Contractors, soul secured or not, feel the same. It is, by design, life-threatening work. That's why the rewards are so great.

If Tropir dies - because, let's be frank, that's who this question is about - then I will do everything I can to ensure everything of value he possesses is retrieved by me - assuming it isn't dangerous to do so. I should ask his opinions on what he'd like dome with his remains, on the off-chance I'm able to retrieve them as well. I'd certainly be much more perturbed than I would for most Contractors dying. I'm not sure I enjoy this hypothetical. But likely all of the above - should I happen across a method of necromancy.

After I am gone, whether my soul lives in or not, what's left of my body will not be my concern. I should hope nobody is stupid enough to risk their life in some misguided desire to set me to rest, but if it's safe to do so, I supposed I'd want to be cremated. Not that I'll really be able to care.

I don't, often. Simply wearing a motorcycle helmet and having my hands covered seems to do enough. Skin flakes and hair follicles, if I've left any, don't seem to be enough, since I'm not on any watchlists. But what little I do seems to work, so I don't see much reason to try more. Acting unnecessarily tends to open yourself up to extreme failure, I've found. I try to avoid excessive crime, but a little breaking and/or entering has been needed from time to time, and I try my very best not to hurt people. I've gotten better at controlling my unarmed strikes, so unless I'm at range I can avoid murder. I've met people with contacts they call when stuff hits the fan, but they don't always get away as clean as I, so I'm not sure if I need to do much more. Until it's proven to be otherwise, I'll just keep doing what works.

Since I've not had this happen, a hypothetical it is.

Not that I haven't thought of this - I have - though I don't have a particularly concise answer.

"The law" is not something I'm particularly inclined to follow, but the implication of the question is if a fellow contractor committed an unnecessarily violent act.

Murder can be justified. Other acts, less so. If I saw someone rip someone's lungs out while they were still using them, I wouldn't see much point in alerting the authorities - especially if I needed to keep hanging around them. That doesn't mean I'd do nothing, though.

Contractors, by nature of being desperate and/or ambitious people, vary greatly in morality. Some are quite upstanding. Others are more flexible - that's where I'd put myself - and still others are downright heinous. If someone I was relying on for my own survival did someone distasteful, I'd likely mentally file it away and later down the line find some way to get them back for it. If the time comes where I stop relying on them, maybe I confront them - or maybe I just anonymously forward whatever evidence I have (leaving me out of the picture) to someone with the ability to use it. Direct confrontation would ideally be a last resort - I'd much prefer sucker-punching them before they knew I was a threat.

I'm no arbiter of justice, however. I'd beat a Contractor half to death for kicking a dog as soon as I would for killing a human being. Still - even if there is no impartial judge - every action has a consequence. If nothing else, I can help to be that consequence.