"It's too bad she won't live! But then again, who does?" - Gaff, Blade Runner
NATIONALITY • Greek American
BORN • Syros, Greece
AGE RANGE • 27 to 33
BIRTHDAY • July 28th
SEXUAL ORIENTATION • Bisexual
HEIGHT - WEIGHT • 5'6" - 125 pounds
BODY SHAPE • Hourglass
HAIR - EYES • Brown (Sci-Fi: Amber) - Brown
GLASSES • No
LANGUAGES • English, Greek
OCCUPATIONS • Artist / Exotic Dancer
EDUCATION • Some High School
NERVOUS TICK • Biting Thumb
WEAKNESSES • Played as Serial Killer
TIME OF DAY • Night Owl
PIERCINGS • Ears, Left Nipple
TATTOOS • Many
SMOKES • Sometimes
HOBBIES • Painting, Sailing
EXERCISE • Swimming
MUSIC • Smashing Pumpkins
MOVIES • Mad Max, Escape from L.A.
BOOKS • Illiterate
FOOD • Tacos
DRINKS • Coffee, More Coffee
COLORS • Aqua and Orange
PET • None
SCIENCE FICTION • CIRCA 2013
Pausing Oliver watched as the woman pressed between them, whispering, her hands handing Mark an envelope,
her eyes only darting up to him after a moment. Freezing he caught the unnatural amber color of her gaze, feeling his chest tighten as she starred at him.
“So, where’d this one come from?”
Her voice was sweeter than he had imagined, making him clear his throat and shift his weight around on the balls of his feet.
Shrugging Mark pulled the envelope open, the paper crackling slightly as he unfolded the letter, “he came to us, got a pink slip from the hospital today.”
“Pink slip huh? I am sorry to hear that,” the woman offered, starring at Oliver still as Mark began to scribble on the letter.
“You’re a chemist aren’t you?” Oliver blurted out the words before he could think, feeling a tight knot tangle in his throat as the woman and Mark looked at him. What an accusation to blurt out – a chemist, a back alley drug dealer that would help you change your looks for a pretty penny. Usually it was simple, blue eyes from brown. Blonde hair, fuller lips, or even a different skin tone, anything the media determined more beautiful. It was illegal of course, but Oliver had never seen such an unnatural look before. Amber eyes, they made him uncomfortable to look at. Swallowing he found his voice, “sorry,” he offered, almost jumping as he heard a laugh leave the woman’s lips, her face broken out into an odd sort of smile.
“The eyes a give away??” she mused, her head tilting down slightly, brows pushing up across her face as she watched Oliver, the man nodding quickly. “Well, no I am not. My eyes are not custom, or designed for aesthetics. I didn’t buy a bottle on the streets to be unique. This is what happens when you’re desperate, when you’re sick and you take any drug handed to you, be careful pink slip, never know when you’ll end up as an experiment,” she offered, taking the letter from Mark and moving back away into the darkness of the warehouse.
Watching the woman leave Mark turned back, “might want to be careful when you speak, it makes it obvious you do not belong here,” he offered, tongue running across teeth as his eyes looked him up and down.