Len's Questionnaire

I have a small cabin. It’s in Georgia. Don’t care about the town, I get my food shipped in. Don’t have to deal with the people.

I bought my cabin with money I got from killing. Working for army. Was a good way to get training.

I live there because people don’t bother me. A good place to hide. Train. Hone my skills and do research. Could be anywhere where there is a place to hide. Where there aren’t many people.

I prepare.

My house has my guns. Only the legal ones right now unfortunately.

i have traps. Things to catch animals. Things to catch people.

A basic bed and phone. Some books to hone my mind.

I did a good job with the army.

I am good at killing. I did some work afterward with some mercenaries.

Killed some people. It was a good time.

They gave me money. Laundered through … something with a trust and pension or something. Don’t care too much about the details. 

I save it, buy guns. Make traps. Books.

I wait. I plan. I prepare.

What I spend my money on doesn’t matter. I don’t need much. I just need resources for the plan.

The world is too soft. People live without fear, without war. My god calls to me. To make the world the way it should be. 

Any money I have I will use on that.

I bring glory to my God.

The wars of this world are too far from the sheltered people of this world. Too many people don’t know what it’s like to fight for their life. To be at the edge of death. The word of my god must be spread. With blood and fire. Till the heroes of this world are dead, and the world is covered in blood and fire.

I am willing to kill, and die to make this happen, and bring the glory my god demands.

Death is an inevitability. I fear it. I fear it too much. But if I could die and make the world and my death a testament to my God I would accept it.

When.

(quiet)

Do I have to talk about this?

If my God demands it, then it will be so.

I was young. Maybe 7.

People came to my house. I loved my parents. The only people I’d ever loved in my life. 

My Dad was so nice. He had a big squishy belly that I used to nap on. My Mom used to hold me so tight. 

They were soft.

The people came. It was loud. There were gunshots. They took things.

I hide. I crawled into the rafters and hide.

i didn’t look until it was over. My parents were dead. Killed. 

they were so soft. They shouldn’t have been that soft.

i was alone after that. Until the army. Until I found my God. 

The world needs people to be harder. 

My supplier: Matthew Dirk. He handles getting my explosives for me.  I met him in the army. He worked as a contractor. High up in some company. I don't give a shit. He's a pretty boy, and his eyes are dead. I like that about him. We had sex a few times. He seemed to like it. I trust that he will keep giving me the resources that I need. 

Blake. I killed people with him in the army. That's a bond that will always connect us. The glory of war and shared bloodshed. He is less fond of it than I am, but I trust him to have my back. Don't trust him with the plan of course. He's a talk strong man. Dark hair. Mixed Korean Irish ancestry.

Finally. The big one. The one who's been with me since my parent's left. Ares. My God. My glorious God. I see him in my dreams. I've made small monuments to him. He is physical, and spiritual perfection. I will bring his glory to all.

Do I have to talk about this? Please. I don't ...

Okay.

My parents were soft. They died because they were weak. People came to take their things and killed them.  And then they left me. I was all alone. People took me in.

They didn't treat me well. I was hit. I was shunned. People made my things dirty.

I hated it. I was all alone. Until Ares came to me. In a dream. He told me that the way was violence, purging the weakness of others. I didn't win. But I got moved. 

They placed me in a new home. Then, I was placed in military school. There I found guns. Order. Discipline. I learned to fight. To obey. 

It was glorious. 

And like that my life was set.

I know what I need to do. I know what my life is for. To make war. To kill and make the world stronger by bringing violence and danger. So, no one will be weak again. 

I'm afraid of becoming weak. My parents were weak. They died. The world is weak, and that weakness seeps into everything.

It leaves people unable to defend themselves. The world is so full of weakness, and if I become weak then the world with hurt me as well. 

I used to not understand why people were the way they are. Why they are so soft and weak and vulnerable. 

These contracts. Growing so that I may serve my god is making it easier to see why people are so weak. Others make them feel safe. They expect others to behave in a way that protects them. They expect that heroes will save them, and have rules that allow them to believe and feel comfortable in this delusion.

Foolish. and blasphemy to my god. 

The world needs more violence. More danger. It needs the heroes to die, so that individuals will become stronger. Strong enough to protect themselves.

I won't become weak. If I die it will be as a glorious martyr for my god, serving his will. 

I won't die for nothing. I won't die because I was unprepared, and foolish.

I won't leave a mess behind. I will die while being strong, and make others strong.

I have traps in my house, and property.

Enough to destroy most of it. Explosions, fire. It will wipe out anyone that attacks and destroy any evidence that will point to me in the process. Everything is replaceable.

Only one thing I have would hurt me to lose.

My Warmakers. Guns that make me a better killer. And that one day will spread violence and death across the world. 

The ability to create her came from my God. And I cherish that gift. I have two versions of her, but I love my first most. It is strong, reliable, and through it I can speak to my God, and kill for my God. I can carry her wherever I go, and always have what I need to kill. 

I will wage war on this world. I will make people become strong and kill those who stay weak. I will bring glory to my god. My Warmakers are how I will do this.

Len watches the news.

A replay of the story of the magic dog. All over the world, ritual sites giving aid and comfort and protection to everyone.

A channel switch. A story of a horde of dead, battled by that Ricter. Saving the regular people from needing to be strong. From facing her God and learning from his presence.

They are all so weak.

Heroes around the world coming in to make a mockery of her God. Giving shelter and protection and healing to the weak.

They didn't earn this. Nobody worked for it, struggled for it. An embarrassment to the work she had done to become strong. The work she had done to ensure she wouldn't die like her parents.

She would show them.

Len grabs her scythe from the mists, shifting to a shotgun. She wants to kill now. Give more offering to her God. There needed to be a force working against those trying to take those from her god.

Len stares up at the ceiling.

Her lips are dry.

All of her is dry. Without a heart pumping blood, without all the other parts of life. She doesn't sweat. Her body is cool.

For some reason she still gets tired. But perhaps that will fade away in time as well.

Her body doesn't want to move. Aches, pains. Past breaks, and past cuts in so many locations have left her full of pain.

She lifts a hand, and reaches into the mist. She grips her gun.

The pain fades away. Purpose fills her.

She gets up. Her pain forgotten. Her body moves as she wishes it. 

She has training to do. Hunting to do. Traps to maintain. 

And someday, she has the plan. She can't forget that. It has changed. Changed a lot with her new powers. 

Len gets up, strips off her sleeping clothes. She dresses in her leathers, and armor, holding her gun the whole while.

Long day ahead. Lots of aches and pains to ignore.

-------Age 5 --------

Valentina stands alone. She wears a small black dress, and little black shoes. It had been part of a halloween costume. A vampire bat. Her parents had loved it. They had loved her. They hadn't bought her clothes for a funeral.

They didn't think it was a good place to bring a child.

Valentina watches the caskets begin to lower. There are plenty of people here. Her parents had made a lot of friends. They helped a lot of people. They were nice.

THEY WERE WEAK.

None of them offered to take her in. So now she will be sent away from her home.

Valentina's eye are red. Swollen. Cold. She has learned that crying won't fix her problems. Not anymore.

------Age 28 -------

It was all ready. Len had the plans. She had the schedules. It took months of watching to be sure. But she was ready. 

She checks her gun. Her knives. Her rubber gloves. She checks around her neck. She had shaved her head a few weeks ago. Better to avoid leaving evidence.

She checks her clothes. A yellow sundress. The type her Mom had died in. Len still had photos of her Mom. She didn't look much like her. Her face was too square.

But hopefully it would be close enough. 

------

Len waits. She watches.

She sleeps during the day, when the shifts would catch an escape.

3 weeks in, and she spots her quarry.

A 50 year old man. Sneaking through the hole she made in the prison fence.

She smiles. The man that took everything from her.

She watches.

The man moves carefully. Skillfully. He is good at sneaking. 

Len is good at watching.

She follows him for hours.

Around 5 am, the man stops to rest.

Len aims. In. Out. Hold. Fire.

The man goes down. Through the knee caps.

He screams. Len approaches him.

He recognizes her. Or the dress at least.

----- Age: 28 -------- 

The man wakes in a dark room. Plastic spread over the floor. He jerks. He can't move. His arms are tied behind his back in multiple locations, connected to his one remaining leg. 

He tries to scream, but the gag in his mouth stops him.

Then he hears the creaking. 

A young woman moves down the stairs. Late twenties. For a moment he is sure he is dreaming. He remembers that dress. The woman. She was brought up in the trial that got him put away. 

He had been sloppy. Got interrupted. But he killed her.

No... That woman would be old by now.... And there are too many scars. Two much muscle.

"You remember me? Or. My mother at least? Good."

Len smiles down at her prisoner. She takes a knife from behind her back.

"It was exactly 23 years ago now. You took my childhood from me. Made me who I am."

Len runs a finger over the blade, feeling it. She watches the look of fear on the man's face.

"I am going to do my best to enjoy this as much as you did."

--------Age: 30 ------------------

It was that time again. The anniversary of when Len's world was broken. When she was made who she was.

She makes her way to a spot in the backyard. She digs.

2 feet deep, there is a skull.

Only a skull.

All the other parts spread out, or destroyed. Not traceable to her.

But this... this needs to be close to her. 

She runs her fingers over it.

Presses her skull to it. And she remembers that the end of the story her being broken, she was the one that won.

Len aims. Waiting. Breathing long and slow. 

She fires.

The deer dies. Len lets out a breath. That's the forth. Enough for an audience. 

------

Len makes the circle. Blood from 4 offerings. She sits in the center. She closes her eyes.

Her God appears before her. Thanatos. She has fraction of his attention. She feels inside herself. The blessing she had gained from Ares. They sit inside her, pulsing with energy. Those blessings changed her, but with her severed connection to Ares... She can't grow. Can't change. 

Len opens herself up allowing herself to be overwhelmed by the presence of her new god. Her blessings shift, her being shifts. A new connection forming, as her new God stakes his claim on her, changing her blessings, and making Len into a being of his will. 

Len feels her new purpose. Death. A reaper.

Len grins. This is better.

-----
Len wakes.

The blood had drained from her offerings , coating over her skin. 

She looks down at her gun. The symbol changed. A scythe now. 

She thinks of making more, and finds the steps have changed. 

She grins, sitting up, causing blood to slowly drip down her naked body. 

She has changed. She has a new God now. A new purpose.

Her connection is back. Len moves through the forests around her house. Quiet. 

Her heart hasn't beat for weeks now, but she hasn't felt this alive. She has a new God. A new source of power.

And new obligations. A new source of trouble.

Len moves. Tracking. A new prey this time.

A day ago, a hiker had gone missing. Teams were out searching for him. Looking in the wrong locations, not able to follow an obvious trail.

Len stalks. Something inside her is hungry. Her desire to serve her God.

I've always had this. This isn't a God. This isn't super natural. This is just me.

It was dark when Len found him. He huddled up. Cold. Hiding from the world.

Like I hide from the world. When I was young and weak. Unable to do anything. Like my parents. Weak.

Len lined up her shot. Held her breath. Slowly released. Took the shot.

The hiker went down. Len let out the rest of her breath.

The body still needed to be hidden. Proper rites, offering the body to her God. That was why she did this after all.
No. I did this for me. Because it feels good to kill the weak. Because I feel strong. Because I feel safe.

Len watches, skin cold.

"Penelope Varela!"

If her heart was beating it would be beating fast. Anger runs through her. 

"As for you, Len, you will be my mistress, and I have decided to make you my head huntsman and executioner." 

The anger goes cool. Switching from feeling to action.

She makes an excuse to leave. Then she walks away from the harbinger.

The one who had impressed her.

The one she had given her finest trophy to.

I WILL NOT BE AN AFTERTHOUGHT. I WILL BE YOUR EQUAL, OR YOU WILL BE DEAD.

And she walks to the trophy room of the Harbinger she is going to kill.

The door was trivial.

The traps were too. 

Until the last one. The one on the Queen's name. Or at least what the queen claimed was her name. "Squi'Dath Kol"

Reading it, Len's eyes burn, like they are stabbed through with hot pokers. 


But she has the name.

------

Len Flees.

She calls friends.

She... hasn't needed support like that before. But when she reached for it, she found she had it.

Her head buzzed with what that meant. Who was she if she had allies... maybe the start of friends... This was never something she had had before.

She pushes it to the side.

She has a queen to kill. She'll think about the rest later.

Len waits. Anxious.

Every sound made her twitch. She was waiting. Either Eden would get here first, or the Queen would get her first. And if the queen and her army got her before she could see... She clutches her gun. 

A snap. Foot steps.

Len turns her head. A now useless instinct.

"Hey have you eaten yet"

Len relaxes. Eden. Definition of a civilian. But competent. And not broken abrasive in the same way Len was. He probably had magic, or knew someone. He is smart. Naive sometimes, from the one time Len met him. But competent, and he owed her his life. She was at least a little safe.

Eden calls in support. A doctor. Oleg was the name. Fixed... everything. Len could see again. She blinks looking at him. His... face is burned to hell... Well, she was dead. Didn't really matter. He was... nice. Something is wrong, people are never nice to me.

Len felt uncomfortable.

She checked her phone. 

Stephanie!

Her dead heart would be beating harder if it still beat.

She was here.

Len frowned. She didn't know why the woman made her feel that way.  Warm. Tingles in her stomach. Electric.

She had helped Len. She flew out here... for her. 

She felt warm, despite the hold of her hands, and her dead heart.

----- Age 21 -------

Len runs. She climbs. She pushes her body to the limit.

ROTC training. For the first time, in a long time things makes sense. So little else in her life make sense. People are confusing. Dangerous. They act strange, and she doesn't under stand them. But this.... 

Len isn't the fastest. Or the strongest. As many fights as she has been in in her life... her body is smaller than the boys here with her. 

And it is mostly boys.

But she worked hard. Pushing her body to make up for it's lack of testosterone. Pushing everything else.

When they first started firearms training, she was in the top 20 shots.

2 weeks in, after abandoning most other obligations except the bare minimum, she was better than everyone else in her class.

3 months later she was better than the seniors

6 months later she was better than the instructor. 

Finally. She had something in her life that made sense. Finally, she felt strong.

Len watched the woman through her scope. She moved steadily, hobbling between Kobolds that shift. 

She is unseen. 

She has a shot.

But... 

Moments Flash before her eyes. Bleeding out into a circle. Alone, all her teammates dead. 

A flash of Stephanie. Finding a lawyer for her. Making deal. Making her feel....

Len looks down the scope. Her finger twitches on the trigger.  No... This ... Penelope Varela . She is clever. She hurt Len. She will give her a chance.

She hands her radio to A kobald. Then swivels to the other. The one that hadn't impressed her.

------ 

"Len. You mentioned a bargain?" Penelope asked, entirely too calm for someone having just shot a rocket launcher.

"My Gun for your support." Len mumbles into the radio. She fires. A warning shot to the other competitor. Quit now.

"Guarantees? Need to know you're honest."

"I can give my word." Len mumbles. She fires again, shattering the crystal on Yora's forehead.

She breaths out. Relaxing. Then swivels her gun to Penelope. 

“I could have shot you. Probably killed you. But you are strong. Clever. I need to win. But I have multiple guns.”

Pen clicks the radio that Len delivered to her, and asks:
"Why do you need to win? Maybe we can work out which of us wins, and use the power to help the other, as well. But, tell me about your guns."

There is a short pause on the radio.

“ Penélope Varela.
A chef.

Interesting profession for such a clever fighter.

I need to win. It is who I am. I win. I kill. I survive.

It is all I am.

You have seen my guns. I can hide them. I can change them. They make no noise unless I will it. They hit harder than other weapons, and do not run out of ammunition.”

"Being a chef is only my latest life. There were others before. Perhaps we could work out both of us having access to the resources afforded by such a marriage? I worry if I forfeit it might not guarantee your victory, and then we'd both be screwed."

“I am amenable to that. But If only one of us win, I win.”

"Then how's this for the terms:
Whichever one of us wins, the other gets equal access to the resources included.
If we can both win, we work to achieve that goal.
If only one of us can win, I do what I can to ensure it is you.

You give me one of your guns. I create an artifact for you after we're done here - in simple terms, a storage device that is tied to you."

There is a pause. “Agreed.“

--------

They try. To convince the Queen. That they can both win. But that isn't allowed. And then Penélope doesn't drop out. 

Len seethes. 

And then....

The winner is announced. 

And Len feels it. 

The closeness that she had had. All betrayed . She had lost.

Sounds. Screams. Len is trapped. The only light the slide in the dresser. She is helpless.

The decision clicks in. She needs control. She has one tool that has consistently given her control.

She she says some things.

Then she moves, starting her plan to kill the queen.

// I will be doing this out of character, because Len listens to very very little music, and would be unable to answer this question coherently.

1. Edge by Chikoi the maid https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlTi2HhI12s : This song just gives off super strong Len vibes. Len as a character is pure intensity

2. The only thing they fear is you Doom Eternal OST https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kpnW68Q8ltc : This is self explanatory, especially as Len killed more than 40 kobolds in her most recent job. Len uses guns. She kills a lot of things, moves fast, and that is the core of her as a character.  Len is one of my more simple concepts for a character. She kills, she is angry, she feels a strong need to win. There is some more complexity she has gained over time, but that is her core.

3. Creep by Radiohead https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFkzRNyygfk : A core part of Len's backstory is that she didn't fit in with anyone when she was growing up.

4. Blood // Water https://youtu.be/fI69eQnMIvo?si=tjM7kL1A98iP741i : This song just feels Len. Blood, intensity. That's her core

5. Blood Sweat & Tears https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rhTZTy1rZhw : I just like the story involved in this song, and the themes of strength, and being a warrior. There are some parallels between Ambessa and the Wolf, and Len making deals to serve her God . Both have powerful Patrons. Both are defined as characters by violence, and deals with powerful beings. 

6. Enemy by Imagine dragons https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9G1VOjN_84 : Len doesn't really make friends, and that is part of her core characterization. There is also some amount of Irony, as Len does feel attacked all the time, while in many cases being the aggressor . 

7. Gun in my hand https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W9UZSmEJobY : Guns! But in all seriousness, this fits Len very well after the most recent contract, where she was in a romance contest and the outcome was her pledging vengeance on the person who charmed her.

Len listens. She sees nothing. A man talks to her. Reassuring.

This is... new. It feels vulnerable. Necessary, but... 

Her papa holds little Valentina. She is trying to read, but some of the words are too big. Her papa helps her. He is warm and soft.

Suddenly their is light again. Blurry at first. Then back. Sharper than ever. 

She is surrounded by people. Allies. 

Little Valentina is outside. She found a squirrel. It was hurt. Valentina pokes it with a stick. It flails , but can't move. Valentina pokes it again. Curious. "Sweetie."
A soft voice. Concerned. Mama. "Sweetie you're hurting it."

Valentina doesn't understand. It's so interesting when the squirrel moves.

Her mama picks her up, and carries her inside.

This feels wrong. She has asked for too much help. She is weak.

I don't care. It was never about rules. It was never about being strong. It was about feeling strong.

Len lets the thoughts sit with her.

She is changing. The jobs are changing her. Her God has changed, she has friends now ... 

This is too much.

She thinks back to her anger. She has a queen to kill. She has a God to serve. With the anger comes clarity.

That's better.