Deidre Dollar by MediaMan
TEAM: The Fallen
KIT CLASS: Empathy
Hall Of Fame!
Survival - 8 wins!
Brutal - 1 fatalaties!
HexxJo's Cool Character Award!
League Wins: 8
League Losses: 3
Out Of League Wins: 0
Out of League Losses: 0
Total Wins: 8
Total Losses: 3
Matthias Nightfang - Win 0-0
Jack "SMACKMAGNET" - Win 0-0
Kiyoshi - Win 0-0
Santa - Loss 0-0
Trevor Smith - Win 0-0
Blake Frost - Win 0-0
Ithuriel - Win 0-0
Adam Nonymus - Loss 0-0
Copernicus - Loss 0-0
Red Factor: Rebecca - Win 13-9
General Nosehair - Win 13-10
I've been called many things in my life. I've been called a bitch, though I've never been one to argue against this accusation. I've been called a tramp, though this is the classic case of the pot calling the kettle black, as my insultors often threw these vulgar invectives at me from a much, much lower station. I've even been called a lesbian, though this is due to an overzealous media on certain worlds, and I usually let this slide. There is one word, however, that I refuse to simply ignore when aimed towards me, and that word is pampered. I can understand where one might get that impression, inaccurate though it may be. I am, after all, the daughter of the richest man in countless worlds, Marc Dollar. He did indeed find me as a baby, abandoned in an ally in the pouring rain. It's also true that, while being raised, concepts such as need and want were foreign to me. Whatever I could possibly ask for was delivered by instant teleport. And, yes, I did go to the best schools with the best teachers. I even attended the esteemed Battlemaster High for a brief period of time. These things and more are true, but just because of that do not assume that I am pampered. Pampered people are weak. They are vulnerable. They are easily dismissed. I am none of these things. They all think I had the world handed to me on a silver platter, that I haven't worked for a thing in my life. They're wrong. I worked to get into the position I am. The fact that I am both the head of Dollarcorp's main corporate branch and the daughter of its CEO Marc Dollar is just a coincidence. I know this because my father values the company too much to entrust such an important part of it to someone who was not capable of handling it. And I am capable, dammit. My masters degree in interdimensional economics and megabusiness management were aquired not through well placed bribes as many think, but through countless, endless nights of study. As hard as it is to believe, I started low like everyone else, just another face in the monolithic beaurocracy that was Dollarcorp. I fought my way to where I am. Inhereting my father's cunning, I carved a path to management that ran red with ink. Inhereting my father's pride, I refused to ask for any help in my quest whatsoever. I do know, though, that my corporate machinations pleased my father. It made him proud, knowing I had inhereted yet another trait from him: the ability to know what one wants and to take it. Still, I am my own person. I am not my father's daughter. Unlike his ascension, my own was relatively bloodless. Insteading of leaving unmarked graves holding well known corpses, I left unnoticed boxes holding well known businessmen, now penniless, jobless and friendless. By the time I managed to claw my way to the top of Dollarcorp's business hierarchy, I was recognized by many, rightly so, as an economic genius. I can plunge entire galaxies into depression with a single stock transfer. My father knew he was making a wise choice when he assigned me to head his business affairs, as the twisted and disgusting Doctor Nomar headed his research and development, and the unctious cripple headed intellgence. We both knew that it was only a mine like mine that could possibly manage the massive infrastructure of the company, while, at the same time, expanding it into hostile takeovers of other so-called corporate giants. Like much of Dollarcorp, lately my attentions have been turned to Khazan. As I predicted, Nomar and his tinkertoys are more than useless in Dollarcorp's domination of Khazan. The residents have more than enough firepower to defend themselves adequately. An army simply will not do. No, what my father is realizing more and more is that he needs *me*. He needs *me* to conduct our business, he needs *me* to negotiate with potential nuisances and he needs *me* to deal with those companies who do not cooperate. Me. Not the head of R&D, or Intelligence, or Military or any other department. He needs *me* to guide Dollarcorp's tenticles into the economic machinery of Khazan... Before ruthlessly sweeping it all aside.
Personality: That equality claptrap spouted on many a Dollarcorp province by rebels has never appealed to me. If we are all, indeed, created equal than what is to separate we civilized beings from the... Dregs that attend our factories? Plebian, working class brutes that kill, steal, sweat and belch. One would be a fool to think that we are equals to them. It is better to think of them more as the furnature of our universe, yes? They're really better off, anyway, with our supervision. With no ability to control their urges, after all, they would destroy themselves in a fortnight. It is better that Dollarcorp has taken the role of the reluctant shepherd, guising them to more productive activities. Like making this delightful blouse I'm wearing. Still, there do arise, every so often, an exceptional one, a subhumam above subhumans. These are dangerous and must be dealt with ruthlessly and efficiently. My father prefers assassinations, but those are messy and I feel they just make things worse. Bribes are better. Everyone has a price. Everything is for sale. All you need to know is what currency to use and how much of it you require. And, of course, I am a master negotiator. And if anyone intends to outdo me there, I am also quite the ruthless politician. And I will not hesitate to put anyone out on the street.
| Weak BELOW normal human strength - |
can bench press 50 pounds (maybe).
|Standard Normal human agility.|
|Weak BELOW normal human endurance. |
Goes down easy and stays there.
|Standard Normal human mental resources.|
Why hello. My name is Miss Dollar and I'm from Dollarcorp. Yes, that Miss Dollar. Why, thank you. That's very sweet of you, in a common sort of way. Now, you probably know why I'm here. Your exploits have certainly gotten the attention of Dollarcorp and, well, it was no challenge to track you. Oh, no, don't get up. You don't need to be afraid. You have nothing to fear from me. We at Dollarcorp want to help you, not kill you. What sort of help, you're wondering? Well, I'll be frank. We think it was quite impressive, the way you've been able to slip viruses past our computer security and make the cyborgs do that quaint dance, the YMCA. Not a lot of people can do that. Why, you even got past our *first* dummy system that we usually use to trap young hackers like you. We think we could use someone with your talents. Now, we know you call yourself a freedom fighter, and that you think Dollarcorp is the machine oiled by the blood of the workers (yes, we do have your chat transcripts right here), but think about it. Serve us, and we can make you a very rich man. What is it that you want? We can, after all, give you anything. That's very flattering, but I'm afraid such activities with your kind are below me. Perhaps you'd like a free Dollarcorp LoveBot instead. In all seriousness, we are willing to offer you a salary of... This much. Ah, I see that caught your attention. And we could offer you these benefits. And these vacation days. Company starship, of course. All you have to do is work for us, and do what we want. And, of course, sign this employment contract...
- Power: Mind Control
- Kit Power Link: Empathy
- Auto-Hit This mental attack hits the target automatically, but may or may not effect them.
.... But, of course, I know how you feel about our company and I understand perfectly your unwillingness to sell out your morals in exchange for money. I find that sort of idealism admiral. So, let me just tear this contract up and I'll be on my... Oh my, you certainly did jump for that thing quickly. Why yes, look it over as much as you want. And, no, don't look me over as long as you want. Read the fine print, if you'd like. Ah, you found one loophole, didn't you? Well, we can just adjust that. Ha, you're just too clever for us. Let me... There. Yes, that seems satisfactory to you, doesn't it. You know, I'd be willing to fatten up that contract if you'd like. No matterhow big the paycheck, it won't make a dent in Dollarcorp profits. I, myself, am paid a very handsome sum and it barely registers as a blip on the Dollarcorp ledgers. Yes, add in some more benefits. I'll even liberate that city you come from that you're so fond of, if you'd like. And they'll have as many Dollarcorp products that they could ever need. Yes, I know. I am a VERY good negotiator. Very convincing, yes? You want to sign? I knew you would. What's that, though? What happens if you don't?
... And you shall benefit
Oppose me... And suffer.
... Well, any number of things. I mean, you did tamper with Dollarcorp property, and that's a serious offense. We would probably send a Special Ops team to kill you where you stand. In fact, since they cloak, there might be a team right here in your house, ready to shoot you the minute you say no. Oh. You mean if we didn't retaliate by killing you? Well, let's see. I myself could do quite a lot, even without the help of additional Dollarcorp forces. Just by myself, mind you, I know your credit cards, your bank account (yes, all three of them, even the one you have under a fake name), which stocks you're invested in and, in short, everything about you. Why, with just a call on my cell phone, I can repossess your house, freeze your assets, destroy whatever stock you own (for, again, such a destruction would barely dent Dollarcorp's profits), blacklist you from EVER getting a job in anyplace where Dollarcorp is present, prevent any vendors from selling you anything (including food) and, well, pretty much destroy you. You'll be broke and homeless and discredited. Yes, discredited, because I ALSO have close ties with our media head who would quickly make you a child molestor, or worse. Hell, as long as we're reconfiguring your identity, I can even destroy all legal records of you even existing. What's more, you can't reallt stop me. I can do it all through perfectly legal channels. In short, I am loathe to destroy your body. But your finances, I have no quarrel with. I imagine you'll die of hunger within two weeks. So why don't we avoid all that messiness and sign up with the Dollarcorp family?
- Power: Disintegration
- Kit Power Link: Empathy
- Armor Piercing This attack ignores normal defenses which are not Reinforced.
... Dollarcorp is, indeed, everywhere. And you think yourself a great hacker, but, in truth, you leave behind electronic fingerprints like the most bumbling of cat burglers. We're able to retrieve pretty much any information we want about you. There's very few people who escape our eyes. Going from your activities, we can accurately deduce your passions, your wants, your desires and fears. We know what motivates you. We know what motivates everyone. Why else, do you think, are our marketing campaigns so effective? Information is power. We have the power.
Dollarcorp is Everywhere
... Of course, I'm also a rather shrewd one myself, and I don't mind admitting it to everyone. Believe me or not, I'm an intelligent young woman who has had years of experience climbing one of the most ruthless corproate ladders in existence. Few have ever made it as far as I have. I had to completely eliminate my predecessor and I did so with both great joy and ruthless efficiency. I don't admit this to many, but there's something about you that says you won't be apt to gossip. I don't know. But I'll tell you, even as a little girl, I was quite the plotter. It got quite boring around my house. What else was I to do but learn the finest arts of manipulation. Did you know, I went back in time to get an autographed photo of Machiavelli? I was fifteen at that time and didn't think how silly wanting something like that was. Still... What I learned as a child was well applied in work and even here. Plans, tactics, these are good. But manipulation is my finest, strongest suit. I know just what buttons to press and how. Most of you dregs make it so easy anyway. Yes, there's your signature. That wasn't so bad, was it? Now that you've signed on with the Dollarcorp family, you're now a charter employee. You'll need to wear this for a while, before you can fully be in the company. What is it? Why, it's an inhibitor coller. It will breed company loyalty in no time. Too late. It's on. Now, for the on switch. Oh, stop whining. There we go. I'm sure you feel much more cooperative, correct? That blank look in your eyes tells me you're ready to begin your training. Come along, then. You'll be working in our computer security division. Ever notice that the young hackers of today are the computer security technicians of tomorrow? Ever wonder why? You, my friend, have just begun a grand and glorious career, right here at Dollarcorp.
I don't like to do it. It draws too much attention to me, to who I am and who my father is. It makes me seem, of all things, like a daddy's little girl who goes crying to her father every time something bad happens. Still, while I am loathe to do so, I will not hesitate to turn those brutes who would dare strike me into puddles of red paste. Rest assured, I certainly don't enjoy resorting to the least civilized method of communication. Lowering myself to... Their level is something I find highly unpleasent. Still, know this: strike me and the retribution shall be most harsh. Dollarcorp doesn't take kindly to its upper echelons coming under physical harm. Special ops would be deployed immediately, at the very least. At the very most... We might introduce you to a friend of ours named Gunter. You say you have nothing left to lose? Foolish serf. Everyone has something left to lose. Your life, for instance,
- Power: Reflection
- Melee Attack Attack usable only hand to hand.
- Reinforced Defenses Defense blocks Armor Piercing attacks.