Name: Janet Platinum
Appearance: Standing at a fairly impressive 6.3ft tall, Janet is broad-shouldered, and possesses a fairly stocky build. Years of training have given her plenty of muscle mass, particularly around the arm area, but it’s fairly proportionate. A long black ponytail reaches down to her waist, although she is never seen with her hair down. She typically wears a plain black singlet, with fairly unmodest shorts, which show off her smooth, yet strong thighs. Her face and body are adorned with scars, and she seems to be perpetually grinning in a shark-tooth smile. She also wears knuckle dusters constantly. Just in case.
Background: Born into a small farming village in Europe, Janet was a working child. She was the eldest, and thus made to do a lot of grunt work on the farm. Occasionally, she’d go on visits to town to sell produce, but she’d always get strange looks, likely due to her large stature. Not fat, just very muscular. She eventually left her small home, but spent some time wandering, not knowing where to go. She travelled the world, looking for a goal, and found out about a group of fighters. Not just any fighting group, though. This was a group of women who fought in arena matches to win money, which they then donated to women’s rights charities around the world, after taking some ‘tax’. She was ecstatic about this, and joined as soon as she could. However, she faced the same strange glances as before. The members didn’t respect her, because she was ‘too masculine’. After fighting with them for a year, she left, once more lost. She was a hulk of muscle, bordering on the excessive. So, she did what she was good for. She became an arena fighter. She was held in an amazingly high regard, among circles all over the world, and lived a lavish lifestyle. However, she simultaneously felt terrible. She couldn’t stand the money, but she couldn’t donate it to the same charities she was going to fight for before, because of how she obtained it. This was blood money. She had killed many, and had sustained a few injuries herself, with scars mocking her entire muscular body. She eventually gave it all up, resorting to living off farming, as she once did. She built a cabin, and lived in the woods for years. She faced intense loneliness, and sustained this with homemade alcohol, resulting in an unhealthy dependence on being inebriated. The alcohol did make her stronger, however. She was found, after 7 years of being off the map, by an old man who lived in the same woods, lying in a ditch, drowning in a pool of her own vomit. He took her in, and she thanked him greatly. She did the work he could not, and made many improvements to his house, and added a farm. He helped her stop drinking, although she occasionally still got cravings. That was, until the day he died. It wasn’t anything malicious, simply age. He died asleep, with Janet’s tears caking both their eyes shut. This was when she decided to go back into society. She then realised she had an unspent fortune, from the will of both this old man and her parents. And she spent it on alcohol, paying for damages, other’s health insurance, and any food she would eat. That was, until the day she got so drunk that she passed out, and woke up in a strange, strange place.
Stigma:
Janet can punch with enough force to crumble a mountain to pebbles.
Blessing:
Fist Equipment.
Inventory: Spiked Knuckle Dusters, Empty Bourbon Bottle, Letter.