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FULL BACKGROUND
Anneliese was born into a life of poverty in an unnamed district of MERKAZ. An unwanted byproduct of faulty contraceptives, she remained an only child and was meagerly provided for out of necessity rather than love. Her parents were never intentionally cruel or malevolent towards her, but she often went without even the most basic of comforts for the majority of her young life. Living out their lives in one of the poorest districts of a thriving metropolis wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, but if she were to describe it in a single word it would be 'boring.'
Like most children her age, the idea of having a normal life permeated her every thought and whim, but unlike others she had come to see it as something tangible – something that could be obtained. It was only a matter of finding a way and sometimes, even the smallest of gestures could open doors to something much greater. Anneliese can remember everything about the way it felt when the kindly old man that ran a local candy store gifted her a piece of saltwater taffy, wrapped neatly in pink cellophane.
It was like delving into the deepest and darkest part of a person without a clue as to how she'd gotten there or how to get back. In her mind's eye she saw a single, flickering image of a smiling granddaughter and knew all at once it was her resemblance that led to the old man's unspoken kindness towards her. From that day forward, she found herself privy to all the fault lines of the human condition.
Taking advantage of people should have bothered her more, but it didn't – not really. Even at that age she had seen people do much worse out of desperation already that what she did barely left a footprint in her mind. And she was good at it, far too good at it for her age; no one ever expected such a sweet-faced little girl to be as cunning and willing to sacrifice as she was. Dignity and pride were lost concepts in the grand scheme of things, thrown to the wayside in favor of a more tangible triumph.
But nothing ever stays quite the same, no matter how much she might have wanted them to. There came a time when being young and powerless was not enough, not nearly enough to sustain the careful balance she'd struck out in the world. At first, she thought it must have been the world that had changed subtly over the years, but it wasn't difficult to see that she, too, had changed. Anneliese wasn't blind, she was painfully aware of the changes that she'd undergone. It was just hard to imagine herself in the light her marks had fashioned her into.
Still, she tried her best to mimic the images she saw lurking in their hearts and minds, fashioning herself into whatever they thought they wanted at the time. It didn't feel the same, though. Everything had been so much simpler when it was generosity and kindness that she manipulated out of people, but somewhere along the way it turned to something dark and lurid. If she had known ahead of time that it could only stand to leave her in an alley with not enough cash in the world and even less dignity, she might have done things differently.
But it was too late to go back. Somewhere, she'd crossed an invisible line in the sand, broken a rule that could never truly be forgiven; not by other people and especially not by herself. All her dreams of having a normal life were dashed through and through, ruined forever by a single event in her past.
Anneliese, for all her cunning and deviancy, had never done anything out of hatred before. It was never about sticking it to anyone for being wealthier or prettier or smarter than she was, she simply felt that it was something she was good at – and why stop doing something if you were good at it? The thought of transforming it into a weapon to hurt people had never occurred to her before that long, cold night.
And, in time, she was good at that, too. If a man wanted her to sing, she would sing. If a man wanted her to dance, she would dance. Everything she learned, she learned to further a brand new set of goals and that goal was to make them pay for what they'd done – and continued to do. It was all too easy to find people guilty of something or another in her line of work, but it seemed like every now and again she would always let her guard down just enough to be hurt all over again (see relationships).
She nonetheless earned somewhat of a reputation for being especially talented in certain areas and was often billed as one of the biggest money-makers for various strip joints around MERKAZ. It was hardly an illustrious reputation given her occupation, but it was something and for a time something was better than nothing at all. Eventually, she caught the unwanted attention of a man named QUINTON PHILLIPS, strip club extraordinaire and the owner of a gown club designed specifically for the noveau riche.
Anneliese had been in the business long enough by that point to know that if a business proposal seemed too good to be true it usually was, but just about anything had to be better than what she had been doing. The promise of higher paying clientele was an offer she couldn't refuse after years of catering to low income rank and file, after all...
Like most children her age, the idea of having a normal life permeated her every thought and whim, but unlike others she had come to see it as something tangible – something that could be obtained. It was only a matter of finding a way and sometimes, even the smallest of gestures could open doors to something much greater. Anneliese can remember everything about the way it felt when the kindly old man that ran a local candy store gifted her a piece of saltwater taffy, wrapped neatly in pink cellophane.
It was like delving into the deepest and darkest part of a person without a clue as to how she'd gotten there or how to get back. In her mind's eye she saw a single, flickering image of a smiling granddaughter and knew all at once it was her resemblance that led to the old man's unspoken kindness towards her. From that day forward, she found herself privy to all the fault lines of the human condition.
Taking advantage of people should have bothered her more, but it didn't – not really. Even at that age she had seen people do much worse out of desperation already that what she did barely left a footprint in her mind. And she was good at it, far too good at it for her age; no one ever expected such a sweet-faced little girl to be as cunning and willing to sacrifice as she was. Dignity and pride were lost concepts in the grand scheme of things, thrown to the wayside in favor of a more tangible triumph.
But nothing ever stays quite the same, no matter how much she might have wanted them to. There came a time when being young and powerless was not enough, not nearly enough to sustain the careful balance she'd struck out in the world. At first, she thought it must have been the world that had changed subtly over the years, but it wasn't difficult to see that she, too, had changed. Anneliese wasn't blind, she was painfully aware of the changes that she'd undergone. It was just hard to imagine herself in the light her marks had fashioned her into.
Still, she tried her best to mimic the images she saw lurking in their hearts and minds, fashioning herself into whatever they thought they wanted at the time. It didn't feel the same, though. Everything had been so much simpler when it was generosity and kindness that she manipulated out of people, but somewhere along the way it turned to something dark and lurid. If she had known ahead of time that it could only stand to leave her in an alley with not enough cash in the world and even less dignity, she might have done things differently.
But it was too late to go back. Somewhere, she'd crossed an invisible line in the sand, broken a rule that could never truly be forgiven; not by other people and especially not by herself. All her dreams of having a normal life were dashed through and through, ruined forever by a single event in her past.
Anneliese, for all her cunning and deviancy, had never done anything out of hatred before. It was never about sticking it to anyone for being wealthier or prettier or smarter than she was, she simply felt that it was something she was good at – and why stop doing something if you were good at it? The thought of transforming it into a weapon to hurt people had never occurred to her before that long, cold night.
And, in time, she was good at that, too. If a man wanted her to sing, she would sing. If a man wanted her to dance, she would dance. Everything she learned, she learned to further a brand new set of goals and that goal was to make them pay for what they'd done – and continued to do. It was all too easy to find people guilty of something or another in her line of work, but it seemed like every now and again she would always let her guard down just enough to be hurt all over again (see relationships).
She nonetheless earned somewhat of a reputation for being especially talented in certain areas and was often billed as one of the biggest money-makers for various strip joints around MERKAZ. It was hardly an illustrious reputation given her occupation, but it was something and for a time something was better than nothing at all. Eventually, she caught the unwanted attention of a man named QUINTON PHILLIPS, strip club extraordinaire and the owner of a gown club designed specifically for the noveau riche.
Anneliese had been in the business long enough by that point to know that if a business proposal seemed too good to be true it usually was, but just about anything had to be better than what she had been doing. The promise of higher paying clientele was an offer she couldn't refuse after years of catering to low income rank and file, after all...