Peake's Questionnaire

The sheer number of people, the labyrinthian skyscrapers, and it being the hub for many mercenaries like herself to find work across the globe - Ankhita has made her home in New York City. More specifically, Queens. Despite her financial disposition, she's opted for a shabbier studio apartment in not the best of areas. Her living situation is very bare essentials. A desk with a terminal, a mattress, a table and couch. No decor is hung on the walls, no television in the living room - only a few sets of clothing in her closet. To her, this residence might as well be motel on the side of some old forgotten road - a place to rest, but not a home.

Ankhita gets her money through various mercenary contracts - mostly as a hired gun. There are plenty of people looking for protection and plenty of people who want something or someone dead. She tends to work alone but can work with others if the pay is worth it. As for what she does with it, she saves it. Spends it on better armor, weapons, and supplies, maybe. But her primary focus with her money is to save up enough for when she really needs it. Money is power, and having the right power at the right time is exactly what she's waiting for.

Ankhita is outrunning her past - a past she never opens up about. Any of the very few people who know her a little know that she's a veteran of a war - or several wars. But as for where, what side, or why she fought, she never says. Her body is scarred by it: bullet wounds, knife marks, burn marks. But whoever or whatever she's trying to outrun, her entire life has been committed to it. So much to a point she's looking to pack up and leave this entire reality behind - and she's willing to do just about anything for it - there are few lines she won't cross, and she's already killed for it and nearly died for it before.

It wasn't the wars, nor the atrocities she'd witnessed and sometimes had a hand in. It wasn't watching her closest brother in arms bleed out in the sand. No, it was something much more damaging: a lesbian situationship breakup. She didn't always live in New York City, she wasn't always this jaded. Once upon a time she could have even been seen smiling, laughing... But that might have well been a lifetime ago. Whoever this other woman was, however this breakup happened - it propelled Ankhita to want to leave everything behind. And by everything, she truly means it - this world, this dimension, this reality - she wants out.

Ankhita gets close to very, very few people. The closest person she could even count would be Blue - a fellow mercenary. He's just a little taller than she is with dark skin and a deep Ghanian accent. They'd met a few times before both ending up as mercs. Both were hired guns on a diamond mine in Mozambique for a few months many years ago. They saw each other again on a job out of Bangkok, and low and behold, both of them ended up in New York City as private mercenaries. They mainly shoot the shit about war stories, drink (lots), and look out for one another as a professional courtesy. But outside of the bar, they never interact.

The next person would likely be her landlady who lives across the hall. Not that they talk much, but she's a sweeter old woman with a three cats that sometimes brings over some kind of baked good. They don't talk much at all, which is saying a lot since this is the second person she's closest with.

Lastly, her last person would be the bartender - what's his name.