"Just listen to the sound of my voice"

"Hello. My name is Bridgette O'Hara. You kidnapped my sister. Prepare to die."

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NAME

Bridgette Rosamie Anzu O'Hara

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bridgette - her parents simply chose this name because they liked it, but its meaning of power, strength, and virtue was certainly appealing as well. The O'Hara family always prized the quiet strength of kindness and virtue above all, so it was very fitting. Personally, Bridgette had never liked her name much. Maybe she'd watched too many high school dramas where the mean or dumb white girl shared her name, or maybe one too many people tried to give her the nickname 'bridge,' but she just wasn't a fan. It lead to many failed nicknames over the years.

rosamie - if only her middle name wasn't so sickeningly sweet, she'd go by that. As it was, its a popular name in the Philippines, combining 'rose' and 'friend.' Bridgette just thinks it fits a petite, smiling girl with flowers in her hair who fights her battles by being the bigger person and offering a kind word. She doesn't think it suits her.

anzu - as the first O'Hara child, and potentially the last, Chiasa O'Hara insisted that her one grandchild have at least one Japanese name. It means apricot, which Bridgette would find disheartening if she didn't know just how much food meant to her Obaachan. It is also predominantly what her grandmother calls her.

o'hara - a proud family name which earns her perplexed stares during attendance, but is a big help when submitting resumes. Her name doesn't look like a minority's, which can open more doors for her. However, it also makes it even tougher to fit in to Asian communities. It means 'descended from Eaghra,' who was a tenth century Irish chief. Their father liked to joke that it meant they were all descended from royalty, but Bridgette's never felt that connected to her Irish- or royal- side.

NICKNAMES

bee - she thought it sounded cool in middle school. But once she Grew Up and Matured when entering high school, she stopped telling her friends to call her that. Didn't stop Bee from continuing to be her parents' favourite nickname for her, however, which annoyed her to no end in grade 9 and 10.

bri - she actually doesn't mind this one, and most of her friends used this nickname. However, its pitfall is listed below:

brie cheese - teenage boys are the most annoying species on the planet and Bridgette must, unfortunately, socialize with them on a daily basis. It was always just popular acquaintances too, guys who thought they were the funniest in the room who would be paired with her for a project, and thought they came up with the most hilarious nickname for her yet. 'People call you Bri, right? Like the cheese?' They'd grin, and Bri would look up from the Algebra worksheet that she knew she'd be doing all on her own, thinking through the logistics of legally changing her name while saying 'yup, exactly. Now how about you tackle number four?'

bridge - do not call her this. She absolutely hates this nickname, and cries internally every time a new acquaintance fails their creativity check and settles on calling her a load-bearing structure. Her friends usually call her this to tease her, or her little sister will to get on her nerves. She will be glaring at them the whole time.

jette - she cycles through moments of thinking this nickname is the coolest and most badass, to figuring that it sounds pretentious. If you couldn't tell by now, Bridgette can be very fastidious and picky, especially with things as personal as a name. She doesn't really ask anyone to call her this, but secretly wishes that if she ever gets a boyfriend, he would make this his own nickname for her. Not that she'd ask for it- he would just know, say something suave like 'see ya around, Jette', she'd swoon, and they would surely be soulmates.

the siren - unlike all the other nicknames, this one was awarded to her post-apocalypse. It isn't something she refers to herself as (pure rage or vengeance would be more appropriate), and she wasn't too fond of the name and its attachments to the mythical beings that lured helpless men to their dooms by being sexy and promiscuous. But she supposed they didn't want to go with the 'dick-dicer' or something equally more accurate, so there they were painting themselves as the victims, and Bridgette the big bad with a meat cleaver. 

GENDER

Female (She/her/hers)

AGE

18

(born July 31st 2002)

"The only emotion I've ever felt for him is contempt."

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ETHNICITY

She's used to people labeling her as 'generally Asian,' but her family is much more of a mixed bag, especially on her father's side. The Irish last name comes from her great grandfather, who immigrated to America and met a Spanish girl. She's grown up on stories of their trials and hardships of being a mix-raced couple in 1940's America, of how they'd lost friends and family, the cities they would avoid, but ultimately how their love had been trailblazing. How, even though he'd grown up in the face of intense bullying, her grandfather then fell in love with a Japanese woman while studying abroad. Given the post-war animosity that still resided between Americans and Japanese citizens, Bridgette's grandmother knew she would have to give up everything to be with him. She chose to move back with him to America only after she had his word that he'd help her open a restaurant there- a lifetime dream that her family had always frowned upon. Her father grew up around the sizzle of Gyoza, gorging himself on Yakitori and always showing up with the best packed lunches at school (he ignored the kids who scrunched their noses at it cause they didn't know what they were missing). This O'Hara boy fell head over heels for his Filipino classmate on his first day of grade four, and the two of them grew up together, best friends for years. Her parents were immigrants, and much more accepting of the relationship than past generations. The families became friends as well, and it was only a matter of time before the two families became one. With stories like these growing up, it's no wonder that Bridgette had grown up to be the romantic that she was.

Bridgette, like many other mixed-race kids, had always struggled with the feeling of belonging to one group or the other. She felt most Filipino, since she saw that half of her family most often, and it took up the biggest fraction of her heritage, but she can still hold a language in Japanese, and is familiar with the terms eejit and hablar por los codos. She has second cousins the family still speaks to, but that talk in rapid Spanish when she tries to hang out with them- it's hard not to feel left out. But Bridgette had a father, and even grandfather, who understood exactly how she felt, and who were already intimately familiar with safe support groups and mixed communities which made her feel less alone. 

NATIONALITY

American

APPEARANCE

Rina Fukushi

Her hair falls just past her shoulders in thick black waves, and she's at that point with her bangs where she either has to sweep them to the side, or they'll get into her eyes. When running for her life on a daily basis, it can get on her nerves, and Bridgette has seriously considered micro-bangs as a result- but she never goes through with it. Bridgette had always loved her hair, and though she's had some hopeless 'what does it matter anymore?' moments where she almost chopped it all off, she just can't. It's her last bit of normalcy, the last thing she still has from her old life- if she cuts it all off, is she even the same person anymore? Besides, her sister was the last person to give her a haircut.

Her square jaw and hooded eyes have always been an asset in making her glares especially acidic, and she'd been told by more than one new acquaintance that they found her intimidating as a stranger. Her eyes have a way of looking at people intensely, and they have an incredible gift for sussing out lies. All intimidation is lost in those rare occasions when she smiles, however- she can't control just how much her face opens up.

She has a runner's body, with a slim physique and long legs. At 5'8", she's taller than all the other girls in her family, and is one of the designated reachers for stuff on high shelves. In a crowd, Marie calls her 'the vantage point' and Bridgette will remind her that she really isn't that tall, and it isn't her fault that Marie is the size of a troll. Her little sister will stick her tongue out in response, and her mom will scold Bridgette as if she doesn't say these kinds of things to the sister she adores every day.

A defining feature is the beauty mark Bridgette has just above and below her lips on the right side of her face, though that isn't typically the first thing people notice about her anymore. As part of her mutation, her throat (where her trachea is) is black. From her chin to her collarbone, her skin almost looks charred, but is smooth to the touch. It's her esophagus underneath that must have been charred, burned so black that it can be seen underneath the skin of her throat.

OUTFIT

On hot days, Bridgette will wear her hair in braids tied with a red ribbon, and wear a thin black scarf like a headband to keep the loose, short pieces of hair out of her face. She wears it around her neck when she doesn't want to be recognized, as her neck's mutation is what makes her the most recognizable as the Siren.

To accommodate for both the sweltering days and freezing nights, she wears a short black camisole tank top that has golden sun and moon graphics on it around noon. It was one of her favourite shirts before the end of the world, but it was also one of the few she owned that she would only change into when her parents weren't looking. What was 'too-revealing' a year ago was now the perfect amount of cloth for when the air was trying to cook her alive. The moment the sun starts to dip, Bridgette pulls a green and pale pink 'language of flowers' sweatshirt over it. In the darkness of night, she puts her puffy black jacket on on top, and pulls a blanket over everything. Bridgette wears bootcut jeans, which are chock full of rips and tears at this point. Around her waist is a cute black belt, which has been repurposed into a knife holster (it's not that elegant, she just stabbed holes in it). The apocalypse-chic look is complete with a pair of black combat boots accented in gold.

PERSONALITY

Bridgette has known responsibility and duty from a young age, through both Oldest Sister Syndrome and the general spirit of the O'Hara family when it came to taking care of those who couldn't care for themselves. Her father had her volunteering at a soup kitchen since she was ten, and sent her out with older cousins to give leftovers from Osaka's Specials to the homeless even before that. It's fostered a compassionate spirit in her, along with a curiosity towards other stories, cultures, and ways of life. This does not mean she's gentle, however. Her assertiveness had always lent itself to a certain intensity about her, and though she will do the dishes for her Mom after noticing that she's had a long day, words of comfort elude her. She was used to being described as tough, dependable, and wickedly funny by her friends before the war. A 'bitch' and 'stubborn know-it-all' to those who weren't as fond of her.

She's always wanted to try things, to live life fully and colourfully, to travel the world- but due to tight funds, she'd never gotten a chance, and now never would. Just add it to the pile of things she had to be bitter about. Her sense of humor is very dead-pan and quick-witted, and has only ventured darker and more nihilistic since her life completely imploded. It was the war and fallout that made her frigid to strangers and turned up the dial on her overall intensity. The loss of her trust in the world has hardened her to it- but not by as much as she thinks. 

She's always struggled with the gentle, kind, 'fight fire by ignoring it' philosophy her family preached. It wasn't that Bridgette was aggressive- it was just that a boy in fourth grade liked to tug on her ponytail so she turned around with a shout and face so ferocious that he fell out of his chair. It was just that she found a group of kids torturing a nearly dead mouse in grade eight, so she dipped her fingers in the blood on the pavement and chased them around with it until they left the poor creature alone. Just that she caught a couple of grade tens snickering about a girl who's period showed through her pants and had no choice but to put her sharp tongue to good use in shaming them of superiority.

Her parents didn't like that she was so confrontational- they feared the kind of animosity she would invite, the danger that it would put her in as a mixed woman of colour. But the unfairness of the world had been outlined in stark detail to Bridgette since she was young, and injustice was a match to the gasoline inside of her.

Even before everything in her life turned to dust, Bridgette was prone to frustration and anger. It felt like a trickling slow poison into her chest, from the times her parents would say 'you can't go out with your friends, you need to take care of your little sister' or when yet another stranger cocked their head at her like she was a puzzle, asking 'where are you from?' She has always tried to be the perfect daughter, getting good grades, joining school clubs, looking after her grandparents, looking after her sister, looking after the restaurant, looking after her parents after they had a long day- and sometimes, it made her want to scream. What she wouldn't give to have all that responsibility back now.

Nothing gets past Bridgette, and her mind is like a steel trap. Three years ago, her friend Keenan accidentally texted her that his parents were looking into 'binkers' instead of bunkers, and guess how Bridgette referred to bunkers anytime around him since? Well, at least until she lost contact with him about a year ago. But still, her memory is great, and her stubbornness in chronicling every small detail of weakness in her enemies is even stronger.

All her judgement and critical eye can culminate in a sharp tongue if you somehow make the mistake of earning her ire. In most instances, she'll simply ignore a rude stranger and stick with her 'nothing I can say will penetrate that thick skull' mantra, making her parents proud by dutifully 'being the bigger person.' But when other people are threatened? Then it's time for Bridgette to reveal the righteous rage of justice and utterly tear them a new one. This, her parents are less proud of.

There is so, so much more rage in her now. Bridgette thinks she's perpetually stuck in the second stage of grief, unable to scream loud enough or stab hard enough to make the burning pain go away. Maybe when she kills the son of a bitch who took her sister, she'll feel better- or maybe the fire inside of her will finally fizzle out, leaving nothing but emptiness behind.

"This is exactly the kind of hopeless situation that I try to avoid. I'll help, of course, but expect me to be complaining the whole time."

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LIKES

a good rom-com - while it's not exactly her priority anymore, Bridgette's favourite way to unwind was with a well-told love story. Even the cheesiest stories made her smile, something which her friends would always tease her for. Of course, now those same movies and books would just make her mourn what will never be- how would it ever be possible to be blissfully happy when the world had gone to such utter shit? There was no longer a chance to meet a cute boy at a coffee shop, or to have her parents tease her about him. Even before the end of the world, she hadn't found apocalyptic love stories compelling- how could she be thinking about making out with him only a week after her parents died? It's truly a shame; Bridgette would have thrown her whole heart in a relationship, had she ever had the chance to have one.

abba - if her victims (the term is relative) were conscious when she was chopping them up, they'd be fools not to recognize ABBA's gimme! gimme! gimme! (a man after midnight) being belted from Bridgette's lips. For whatever reason, the stronger her emotional connection, the stronger those around her are compelled to sleep, so she busts out the strong stuff when chopping away.

running - she was a top runner on her cross-country team in high school, and won them a few trophies at meets. She's a very strong runner- naturally a fast sprinter, and able to build her stamina through dedication and a love for it. 

The colour green | flowers of any kind | being listened to (especially is she's complaining) | soccer |  little acts of kindness and compassion | when her friends laugh at her jokes | being taken seriously | constellations | big cities | variety | puzzles | pretty things

DISLIKES

blind optimism - oh, everything was going to get better, just cause you said so? Bridgette was aware of the scientific reasoning on why a positive outlook was a self-fulfilling prophecy, but the world was pumped full of 'the war's almost over, we'll pull out a decisive victory' and 'the radiation will wear off soon' to know it's all bull. Nothing makes her feel more like putting her fist through someone's face then being faced with excruciating, life-threatening news, only for someone to have the audacity to try pointing out 'the bright side of things.' It will 100% just put her in a worse mood.

ignorance - she defines this as choosing to stay in the dark, because it's more comfortable there. It is her opinion that ugly truths have to be unearthed, or they'll fester. Racists like to believe that geography ultimately decides personality and beliefs, and don't want to know the truth of it- that they are not any more special than the group they hate, or more important, or more skilled. That went for sexists and homophobes' as well. Intolerance and ignorance made her fume, as she's had to deal with her fair share of it in her life.

Being stared at | exclusion | silence (rough when alone at the end of the world) | unplanned chaos | being guilt tripped into 'favours' | mosquitoes | disappointing her loved ones | her own hotheadedness | being told she should 'try being more polite'

"Marie, as your sole guardian for the day, I kindly ask that you stop doing such stupid shit. And no more swearing."

STRENGTHS

cunning

Bridgette has always had an intelligence and love for planning, able to set things up just so. If any part of her perfect set up falls, it's because Bridgette wanted dominoes. Planning, of course, is very different from scheming and manipulation- or at least, that's what she told herself that time when she booked the racquet club in the smaller gym. The gym with the big windows that many female students complained about, as a group of sleezy boys had lunch when they had gym class, and would sit down and watch them (but the school didn't think it mattered enough to do anything about it). It's what she told herself, setting up the nets across from the windows, knowing that the star player Jeremy Fenner had a big game coming up and would not be holding back. The way his serve smashed those windows to bits was an unfortunate accident, of course, and as a member of the student council, the school had to listen to their input on more durable, tinted windows. Her dad has always said that she just likes getting what she wants, and is inventive in getting her way. 

stamina

Her mother used to tell her that pain was a 'mind over matter' game, and with the strength of determination and stubbornness she possesses, is great at pushing herself the extra mile- quite literally. It's a labour of practice as well, of course, and Bridgette used to go for a run in the morning everyday, listening to music and finishing three and a half miles before the school's first bell. She also played and loved soccer since she was six and up until tenth grade, which built her stamina in sprints.

master of intimidation | a high pain tolerance | very fast | loyal | determined to the ends of the earth | well-read in science and anthropology | inventive when she needs to be

WEAKNESSES

panic

Her first instinct when in trouble is to run, even if she outguns her opponent. She's usually able to keep calm if she has a plan, but utter chaos screws with her like nothing else- you can imagine how stressful the end of the world was for her.

hard to get along with

In fact, after her trust in one of her closest friends (along with all of humanity) was destroyed, she'll make it difficult on purpose. She doesn't want to cooperate with people, she already failed at being a nice O'Hara girl the moment she stooped to dismemberment, so why even pretend anymore? Bridgette used to make an effort of politeness, but post-apocalypse, politeness doesn't really have much value anymore, does it? She'll be blunt, and crass, because now she's convinced the only way she and her sister will survive is independently, away from all the other crazy and traumatized souls walking the earth.

one of her weaknesses is definitely a pretty face | has no clue how to respond when someone cries | not great at fighting (her current track record is 'gets her ass beat but at least she scratched one of their arms or gave someone a black eye') | doesn't take care of herself well | doesn't know how to ask for help | kind of a mess rn tbh

MUTATIONS

"You put your emptiness to melody

Your awful heart to song

You don't have to sing it nice, but honey sing it strong"

The first week after Marie was taken was the most excruciating, and much of her careful preparation gave way to frantic packing. Any moment to waste was another in which the Phyloginists could be doing anything they wanted to her, and Bridgette imagined them all in vivid detail as she threw together the bare minimum and fled in the direction that she knew of the closest Phyloginist encampment. It took only two days for her to run out of water, and another five for the dehydration to get so bad that she was barely stumbling along. She knew she couldn't trust the nearby river, she knew that it had been used as a biohazard dumping ground and was full of radiation. Still, as the days dragged on with no sign of another water source, she had no choice but to risk it. Bridgette couldn't save Marie if she was lying on the side of an abandoned road, dying of thirst. Besides, she hadn't spotted any dead animals by its banks- surely that meant it wasn't immediately lethal.

The water was far too green, but once Bridgette gave in, she drank it eagerly. It felt like fire as she forced it down her throat, and it truly must have burned for the charred skin under her throat when she was done, that had never gone away since. Bridgette almost couldn't choke it down with how painful it was to drink, but she forced herself, thinking of Marie all the while. If she didn't save her, no one would. She even bottled up some of the radioactive water for later.

It wasn't until days later, as she scavenged for food in a broken down superstore, humming along to the distorted music still playing through the speakers, that she discovered the most sluggish rat she'd ever seen. Bridgette stopped humming, and it bolted with new vigour. Experimenting more allowed her to find out that her singing put animals to sleep- hunting became a lot easier after that. And once she figured out that it can put people to sleep too, her haze of panicked grief finally moved aside to form a proper plan of revenge.

LANGUAGES

She is fluent in both English and Tagalog, as they are her native languages. She can read and write with both, but her comprehension is much faster in English, since that was the language she was schooled in. She does not have an accent in either language.

Can hold a conversation in Japanese, and speaks it more formally. Could not read or write it to save her life, though her Obaachan has certainly tried to teach her.

Has a basic knowledge of Spanish from taking it in school and a dedicated month of Duolingo.

Knows a handful of Gaelic words or phrases, though they usually just mean something along the lines of 'idiot' or 'troublemaker'. She doesn't really use these words, but recognizes what they mean when her dad or grandfather do.

BACKSTORY

Bridgette was born with a curious, independent spirit that drove her poor parents up the wall. 'Why' was one of her first words, and she wore it out for years in an incessant phase of questioning that drove her parents to google years before her parent's friends had even heard of a search engine. Bridgette was good at listening to her parents- until something else caught her interest, then she'd wander off without a care in the world. Poor Althea O'Hara almost broke down one day when she turned to see her young child gone, nowhere to be found after scouring the whole grocery store. Ten minutes later, little Bridgette entered the store calmly hand in hand with a stranger, who said he'd found her in the parking lot.

She was very comfortable in the only child lifestyle when she was four, when she was told that it would all change. Bridgette asked a lot of questions about why Althea's stomach was growing so big, what her sister would look like, how exactly the baby had gotten in her belly- she wasn't entirely convinced with the whole stork explanation (where did they get the baby from?). She had to keep being reminded to be gentle with her pregnant mother, to be nice and rub her feet. Caretaking didn't come naturally to Bridgette, but she'd have a lot of practice in the coming years.

When baby Marie was born, Bridgette told her parents that she looked kind of ugly, like a purple raisin. They scolded her, telling Bridgette that Marie was her little sister, and she needed all the kindness she could get so she could grow strong and healthy. That it didn't matter how she looked, Bridgette needed to protect her since she couldn't protect herself. Those words reached Bridgette as she looked at her ugly, helpless little sister, and she never let go of them.

She was always with Marie after that, pushing her around in the cart meant for their Lego blocks and bouncing her in her arms, explaining very seriously that rocks weren't for eating and that their last name meant they were royalty. Bridgette considered herself the expert, and passed on all the knowledge she'd gained from asking 'why' for the past years.

They grew up very close to each other, as well as the rest of their family. Both sets of her grandparents lived in the same city as her parents, so she saw them very frequently. Bridgette loved them all very much, but became more and more of a caretaker as she grew up, always striving to reach the high expectations her family had of her. She held some quiet bitterness every time her dad told her she was spending the weekend helping out at her Obaachan's, every time her mom shut down her traveling plans because they needed her there to help out. Bridgette loved them, but she had some days where she just wanted to run away from it all.

She actually liked school, and was good at applying herself. They answered all of her 'why' questions, and introduced her to more that she didn't even think of. Bridgette was a perfectionist of sorts, and always wanted to submit her best work. Pretty soon, straight A's became the regular, and her parents went from congratulating her at every one to questioning what was going wrong when she came home with a B. The pressure was fine, she was fine when she entered high school and all of a sudden classes were harder, she was fine when her parents encouraged her to join extra clubs, she was fine when they asked her to get another job to help them with her secondary education fund. And she was at her most fine when she had to quit soccer, which she loved, in tenth grade just to have enough time for it all.

Her debate team won an award in 2018 on their defense against America joining WWIII. Like a good debate team member, she prepared an argument for both sides, and now looks back on the apathy she prepared that case with in envy. Bridgette hadn't truly known what was coming.

Her mom prayed everyday when the Family First Act was enacted, hoping that her faith could save Bridgette from conscription at seventeen. Her dad steeled himself every time he picked up their mail, and Marie hugged her far more than she usually did. Her parents had always said how much they needed her there to help out- what would happen if she was drafted? Who would help Marie study her geography, who would help Marcelina plan the next Relay for Life, who would cut Nashi with her Obaachan? She didn't want to kill people, especially when they were as apathetic to the cause of this conflict as she was. It was all pointless, and her government was failing her. But Bridgette ended up being one of the lucky ones, only hearing of those who were drafted who were a friend of a friend. Still, the population of their school shrunk with every coming month.

Her Lola and Lolo (her mother's parents) were immigrants, and would have been put in a holding camp or deported if they had no immediate family serving. They only knew of the Fight or Flight Act because of how deep the O'Hara family was in the immigrants and mixed-race community in their town. Because of her Lolo's health, the family knew that if he was sent away, he would not survive. So to save her parents, Althea O'Hara joined the military. 

The close-knit family was torn apart by the Act- Bridgette's Obaachan was an immigrant too, and her daughter-in-law didn't count as immediate family. She told her son 'don't you dare leave your children parentless for me', told her granddaughter 'you will not be entering war at such a young age after your mother ensured that you wouldn't' and was shipped off to Japan. Her grandpa tried his best to argue her case for being married to him, an American citizen, and when the Act pushed for her deportation anyway, he tried to go with her. When there turned out to be no legal way to go about it, a friend of the family, who happened to be a pilot, managed to smuggle him over to Japan a month after Chiasa landed. Makoto O'Hara (Bridgette's father) invited his in-laws to live with him in the face of rising racial tensions and Lolo's failing health.

To the surprise of no minority, the most ignorant and hateful of Americans where the type who couldn't tell the difference between a Chinese or Filipino person. There had always been the stares, the rude comments, the glares when she spoke Tagalog in public- but everything was so much worse when China was declared as one of America's enemies. All of a sudden, racists thought this gave them the go-ahead for hate-crimes without consequence.

Yet the FOA was no sanctuary for them. Chinese-Americans could tell that she was Filipino and Japanese, and therefore, did not need the FOA. They had enough issues to deal with on their own, they didn't want to give outsiders any help. Non-Chinese Asian-Americans were isolated on both ends.

Bridgette remembers the stress of that time, the promise she made to her father to never go for a walk after 8:00pm, to not go anywhere by herself, to pick up Maria every single day so that they would always be together.

Bridgette will never forget the day she went to get groceries with her Lola. They split off to different aisles to get what they needed, but only a few minutes later, she heard a commotion from the other side of the store. She started running when she heard her Lola calling out for her. Three teenagers were harassing her grandma, calling her slurs and ripping the groceries from her hands. Apparently, her Lola had bumped into them, and they took one look at her before lashing out with all their anger.

Simmering with rage and fear, Bridgette put herself between them and said it must have been an accident, her grandma was getting old, you know, and she must not have seen where she was going- but they were already riled up. They circled them, poking, shoving and taunting, saying how clumsy and stupid and evil they and their whole race was. Bridgette remembered making eye contact with an Indian woman in the next aisle, begging for help with her eyes, but she quickly returned her gaze to the ground, too afraid to help. They were alone in this.

Bridgette figured they'd get tired soon- but her Lola took her hand and tried to shuffle past them. Enraged, one of the boys shoved her sweet Lola hard, and she fell down with a cry. That was when Bridgette snapped, decking him hard in the jaw. She scratched and punched and fought with all her fury as the three of them recovered from their shock, wrestled her to the ground and started kicking. It was then that the staff finally interfered, pulling apart the 3 on 1 fight. Bridgette had a bloody nose, bruised ribs, and scratches on her arm, but it was her Lola who couldn't stand back up. Who'd broken her hip, and had to be carried home the day before thanksgiving.

Did you know that up to 50% of elderly patients with hip fractures died within six months? That many of those who survive never fully recover their baseline independence or function? Bridgette had never been so angry in her life, when the doctor told her family the probability of nothing ever being the same for her sweet Lola again. She wanted to hunt down those kids and ruin their lives, the way they most certainly just ruined her Lola's.

Thanksgiving was a lot more subdued that year, and it was spent in a crowded hospital. Makoto O'Hara could see how stir-crazy his daughters were getting, cooped up and worried as their Lola went into surgery, so he sent them to the post office they'd visited many times in the past year- the one dedicated to soldier's correspondence. They knew Althea would have sent a letter to arrive for them on Thanksgiving, along with a little surprise- she told them so in her last letter. Their father had wanted to go with them- they were not always welcome on a space where they thought the enemy looked like them- but he needed to stay with his father-in-law, who's dementia was worsening with the worry for his wife.

Marie let Bridgette hold her hand as they navigated streets full of bitterness and tension, shuffling quickly past a demonstrator yelling about how America was being manipulated, how the Vietnamese scientists were assassinated by their own people so that they could blame the Chinese and incite violence. At the entrance of the post office stood a group of kids her age with haunted eyes and missing limbs, who didn't even see the two of them as they slipped inside.

There was no letter from Althea O'Hara, though she'd promised that there would be one. A couple behind her in line snapped at them to hurry up as Bridgette begged the post-man to look again, to check under Althea's maiden name just in case. It was then that the siren's went off.

She remembers how the panic permeated the air, how everyone started moving at once. Bridgette's mind immediately went to her dad and grandparents, about how her Lola could be in surgery at this very instance, how she needed to get back to them and help. But then the ground shook, the sky lit up, and people screamed. Marie grabbed her arm, eyes wide in fear, and Bridgette had to hope that their dad and hospital staff could get her Lolo and Lola out, because she needed to make sure her little sister was safe.

They made it to the closest fallout shelter, holding tight to each other as the bombs fell. Bridgette had never been so terrified in her life, and every time the world quaked, she thought the roof would fall in and crush them all. It took too long for the earth to fall silent- and then they were told they couldn't even leave yet.

They searched and searched through everyone in the fallout shelter, but Marie and Bridgette could not find their father or grandparents. They were sick with worry for four days, telling themselves that they must just have gone to another shelter (even though this one was closest to the hospital and their dad would have had to carry Lola on his back). They hoped and even prayed for their mom, who was stuck in the midst of the war and had to come back to them. They prayed for their Obaachan and grandpa, hoping that the other side of the world was faring better. The moment they were let back out they ran, hand in hand as they leapt over craters, ignoring the once-familiar street that was now unrecognizable with their hearts in their throats.

Of course the enemy had bombed the hospital- mercy was a spoil unafforded in war. There was no bodies, no screaming or crying- only a crater that decimated everything, only silence and emptiness. Hearts in their throats and tears in their eyes, Marie suggested in a small voice that maybe their family members had made it out before the bombs dropped, that they must be waiting at home for them.

The world smelled like burning flesh when they arrived at their street. Both Osaka's Specials and the house attached to it were gone, burned from the place it had stood for forty years. Bridgette just remembers staring at the nothingness, trying to find a semblance of the place she'd grown up in, but finding none. Just a red ribbon floating in the breeze, one of their mother's. Bridgette had let go of her sisters hand, slowly moving over the rubble to go get it. On her way back, she tripped over the charred lower body of a corpse. Her hands started shaking when she realized it could be her dads, her Lola's or her Lolo's. Maybe they'd tried to escape by coming back home, where it was safe. She grabbed Marie's hand and whisked her away before she could catch sight of it, and just like that, their home and family was gone. 

Bridgette was grieving, she felt hopeless and lost, but she absolutely could not give up while Marie was depending on her. So she put her emotions on autopilot, held her little sister as Marie cried herself to sleep on blankets they stole from a storefront, made her eat when all she had to offer was a pack of jerky or can of beans, and moved further and further from the city and its pain everyday.

When they found Zach, a boy Bridgette was friends with from school, she finally broke down (once Marie was asleep). Zach promised that they could look out for one another, releasing her from the crushing weight of responsibility for one night so she could finally grieve. She was free to share with him her worries, sadness, and anger, and he shared his in turn. Bridgette felt less like she was drowning after he joined their journey.

They found an abandoned house in a field, a pretty thing with an overgrown garden and dark blue bricks. They set up something like safety in the next few months. They started with the bare necessities, raided busted up stores for food, planted any seeds they could find, collected and tried to teach themselves to use weapons after hearing about Hijackers, and Bridgette even set up Rube Goldberg-esque traps around the house. Over time, trinkets of glass and rubble decorated their space- Marie liked to make things, and twisted together metal and glass so that the light falling on them created a kaleidoscope of colour.

Bridgette could only keep herself going with future goals and plans. First it was 'keep Marie alive and safe' and once they were there, Bridgette started messing with the radio they found at the house. Her mom could still be out there, her grandpa and Obaachan could still be alive, and she was going to find them. But first, she needed news of the state of Japan and the deployed American military, and hoped she could find a working radio station reporting on such things.

While she was working on it, while Marie was busy adopting nearly every animal in the area and distracting herself by trying to make some of Osaka's Specials dishes out of canned beans and squirrel meat, Zach spent his time with her. Soon enough he was saying things like 'this far away from everything else, I feel like we're the very last two teenagers in the world' and 'you look really cute today, Bri.' Then he started touching her, trying to kiss her, and she had to say no. 'We're friends, I don't think of you that way' she said, and 'now is really the worst time for me, Zach, if you hadn't noticed, the world just ended' she'd add when he persisted. 'Exactly, that's why now is the perfect time' was not the answer she was looking for.

He kept persisting, and Bridgette's anger built as he just didn't take no for an answer. She could tell that Marie felt the building tension in the house, but she'd been quieter since the day the bombs dropped, and didn't say anything about it. 

There was only so long you could avoid one of two people you lived with, and it all culminated in an argument that Bridgette was hoping to keep cordial. However, telling him that 'even as my only option I wouldn't get with you' probably wasn't the most tactful way she could've gone about it. Zach was quiet for awhile, then he suggested that they should join a bigger group of people. Surprised, Bridgette considered it- it sounded like Zach was willing to give her up if he had more options (like someone who actually liked him back) and asked what group of people he knew about. It would be nice to get Zach back as a friend, and she knew that Marie was getting lonely.

He mentioned a travelling encampment of Phyloginists nearby, and Bridgette shut that down with a 'they kidnap people, Zach. Girls.' But when he insisted it was a rumor, she told him that he could join himself, if he wanted to so badly. They argued a bit more, him saying they were less likely to welcome him if he didn't bring girls with him, but he ultimately left on his own with a short goodbye to Marie.

A week later, he came back. In the dark of the night, with three other Phyloginists. Bridgette had become too dependent on her traps, too sure of their functionality that she overlooked what would happen if their attacker was someone she bragged about her creations to, who knew where to step.

Bridgette had woken up to a sense of foreboding, only to open her eyes to two dark masses in her room. She grabbed the knife under her pillow and yelled for Marie to run, but wasn't able to spring from her bed before she was pinned there, two bodies crushing hers and holding a cloth to her mouth as she thrashed and wildly tried stabbing her attackers. After a minute of struggling, she pretended to give over to the chloroform and stopped moving, letting go of her knife even though every instinct in her told her to clench it tight.

The moment they eased off of her and removed the cloth, she took a huge breath and shoved them off, booking it for the door- but another figure blocked the doorway. A familiar figure, with an unconscious, tied up Marie draped over his shoulder. Bridgette remembered calling him a bastard, remembered him avoiding eye contact, and remembered rushing him- only to be yanked back by another man, joined by a woman as they tried to wrestle her to the ground.

'Stop Bri, they only want what's best for you.' The traitor had the audacity to plead, and another man with the fervour of believing in his eyes nodded eagerly in response.

'You will be treated with the worship you deserve, as superior beings-'

'If we're the superior beings, maybe you should listen to us and let us go!' she shouted in response, teeth gnashing as she looked over to Maria's prone form. The woman yelped as Bridgette's teeth closed over her arm, hard enough to draw blood.

'You are used to the old world, child- you don't yet know what you deserve.' The man who spoke's eyes glinted before he landed a swift kick to the back of her head that knocked her out.

It was their mistake that they never searched her for weapons. It was the tiny switchblade concealed in a hidden pocket she'd installed after the last time Zach had gotten grabby that freed her in the end. But the group, for whatever reason, had split in two while she'd been unconscious, and even at gunpoint her captors refused to reveal where Zach had gone, where he'd taken Maria. So she shot them both in the crotch, took their map, and began her hunt.

WORD ON THE STREET

"I'd sing you a song, but I don't think you'd like it..."

She's a bit of a boogeyman or even demon for the Phyloginists, known only through the horror stories of grieving men who woke up to excruciating pain and the knowledge that they were the end of their bloodline. Bitter and enraged victims have called for vengeance, and to find her it is known that she has a black throat. At this point, they think she's some kind of highly trained assassin who drugs their food- most don't know about her mutation, since they fall unconscious the moment she begins to sing. 

Those outside the cult may see her as yet another hijacker hyped up on violence- some Kings have even tried looking for her, for how deadly her reputation seems to be. Bridgette doesn't think they fully understand the scope of how much a man with an ego will exaggerate to save face. No, she didn't 'appear from nothing and descend from the sky, a knife for each finger and sharpened teeth directed at her prey.' In that instance, she'd fallen off a roof into a face full of dirt, and the man on first watch came out cause he thought a bird hit the side of the building they were squatting in. 

Others outside the cult may think kindly of her, of what she was doing for the women that had been captured and tortured, for those who lived everyday fearing a Phyloginist would find them next. When she came across women in chains, Bridgette did her best to free them, and usually succeeded. But there were always those who trusted her less. Who did not want to risk the men's wrath. Or who truly believed in the cult. And though she always tried her best, Bridgette could not save them all, couldn't waste energy of trying- Marie was still out there, and she was always her first priority. 

COMPANIONS

Currently none

INVENTORY

Bridgette has outfitted herself with some sort of holster- a low-hanging belt around her hips that she tucks two of her knives/ daggers in. Her smallest, sharpest knife is hiding in her boot. On her back, she's got her backpack from high school, which used to be a pale blue and was not splattered and stained with a mixture of dirt and blood. Also, now there's a meat cleaver strung up on the back of it, which swings around with every step (covered with a black cloth, of course, she wouldn't tempt injury or the beacon it would become in the sun). Inside the bag, she has a water bottle with a filter, a radio, a blanket, cured meat, matches, some string, a heavy coat, a map, a compass, a pen, gloves, and metal wiring.

THEME SONGS

Seashore - The Regrettes

Burn it Down - Daughter

O.K Fine - Clover The Girl

Black Wave - K.Flay

"See you in your nightmares, you ugly motherf*****"

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