Hi there! I'm Nam Jisu. Uh, I'm not really sure about my family actually. They say that I was found a few years ago alone, unconscious due to a head injury when they found me and despite searching for my parents no one ever stepped up to 'claim' me. It was around that time which I discovered my superpower of being able to communicate with animals. At first everyone thought I was crazy but they soon realized that I was actually speaking to them and even understanding them, so that's when those from Umbrella brought me to the organization. Maybe one day I'll be able to find my family with the help of my animal friends, but for now I'll continue to help my teammates on the battlefield when they need me!
Hi, I'm Siwoo and I'm always hot. My parents were killed by some ugly ass monster so the only family that I have left is my little sister. Mess with her and I can't promise that you'll be able to wake up the next day. How did I discover my power? Who knows? I think I was playing with a lighter one day in my room and figured it out that way. As for how I came to this place, well after my parents were brutally killed, someone from Umbrella found me and my little sister. She decided to make it known that I could do certain things with flames so they brought us in and 'poof' threw us into this damn battle with monsters. It's not like I asked for this but they do provide food and beds so whatever. As long as my sister is safe and happy that's all that matters.
In truth, there isn’t much to know about me. Nowadays, it's a common tragedy: a happy family falling victim to the monsters, leaving their only child behind. It’s a shame, I no longer remember my life before the attack, or even my parents' faces... although faced with the heart-wrenching sobs from grieving recruits, perhaps that is a wretched blessing in disguise. I was reborn that day, when she rescued me and took me to Umbrella. My power is both a blessing and a curse. A curse, as I will never know human touch without seeing the other’s face contorted in pain, their ghastly eyes filled with fear and hate... a blessing, because it is through this power that I may be with her.
Seeds are planted and sprouts grow. Flowers bloom, wither and the cycle begins anew.
During the difficult times of the war, I try to remind myself to not linger on what we have lost, and instead, to focus on the fact that we’ve at least had.
Hey, the name's Park Youngjae but you can just call me Jae if you'd like. I'm 25 which means that I'm a part of Gen 5 here at Umbrella. The only remaining family that I have alive would be my mother, who thankfully is being well taken care of thanks to Umbrella. My father? Well, he unfortunately passed away while attempting to hold back one of those monsters while my mother and I escaped. As for how I discovered my power? Well, it's quite simple really. I was 16 at the time, I had went to turn my desk lamp on in my room so I could begin my studies. There had been some electricity that seemed to shoot out from my fingertips. At first I thought I was either going crazy or that it was just static electricity, but after a while things began to get a bit more strange at home, even when I would go to turn a light off or on within our home and it would cause all of the lights to go off in the house. Eventually word got around and someone from Umbrella approached me after school one day, telling me of this organization for others such as me. That's how I ended up here at such a young age.
“I was happy, once. Life changed with the umbrella, I lost my best friend friend to this thing that’s happening. I don’t have much, an older brother and parents, I’m fighting for nothing much besides my family, and wishing for people to not lose their friends and family like me. I don’t like the way umbrella works, but there’s not other place I can be while wanting to help, I have to be here, I must.”
you don’t even look like you’re listening. you seem bored. i watch as the pen glides easily over the paper in the notepad that the person across from me is writing in, and the smile that hangs just faintly on my lips feels awkward. does it look awkward, too? probably. why do i have to do all this again? why do i have to tell someone all about me when they don’t even look like they care?
even people that say they care, they don’t. i feel like i’m screaming to the void. no wonder i feel so tired all the time.
“ sure!” the response is a lot brighter than i feel. cover up the horror with the bright of magic, the flutter of a fairy’s wing - that’s what people are really looking for anyway. the question is, should i start with the rising of a ghost from her grave? or would that be too much? “ you know i have a big family, right? lots of siblings.” and all of them don’t listen to me, either. they all have their own worries.
i tell myself that it’s okay. “ i’d like to think that we’re close. some of them moved away far away from here before i could tell them bye though, but who can blame them, right?” i laugh a little, but i don’t feel it. “ i guess maybe there’s not a lot about me to tell. maybe the most interesting thing about me really is all my older siblings. i love them very much.” looking at the staff member across from me, he doesn’t look amused. it’s like he’s telling me this isn’t just about my family, it’s about me. me - strange, lonely, wallflower me.
do i give him what he asks for? “ you know, i told my older brother once that i felt wrong. like i was one of those fairy children that you heard about in stories, changelings that were switched out for a real human baby. i thought peter pan was going to come to my window before i got too old. i always thought i wasn’t right, so i guess that’s why i always thought about leaving or being taken, too.” biting my lip, i shift uncomfortably in my seat. he still seems like he’s just taking notes, as if the things i’m saying will be burned in the incinerator after this. maybe they will be. everything is always covered up with dirt here. “ i guess that’s when i realized that i could do things.” things like scream loud enough to make buildings fall because you’re still alive - but she isn’t. everyone has to listen, then. you don’t feel like telling someone who doesn’t listen all about that. “ ... and then i ended up here.”
“I hate talking about myself.” she sighs into the back of her hand, which covers about a fourth of her mouth that curves at the edges, and reveals nothing but the plain hypocrisy of her statement. She loves talking about herself. Her thoughts. Her actions. And yet…
“I lied. But why my family, of all people?” she spits the last bout, and nearly pouts in annoyance (as if the act itself couldn’t be anymore brattish, she’s yet to challenge the fact.) she grew up in the sewers, she would say; woke up as a rat that chewed upon the bits and pieces others left, and feasted upon a cockroach or two, when the day was good and it wasn’t particularly humid (much like a cat, dea disliked humidity, rain, water… you name it; obviously, only within a context she could not control and thus, out of her reach of manipulation.) “I’m an orphan. I don’t keep collateral damage.” she laughs, eyes crinkling like a kid at a candy store. As if what she said was as natural as the color of the sky.
It reminds her that she discovered her power in the same manner, and almost with a similar abruptness to the question posed on her. It was almost cliche, she thinks, as if her life had been a movie and when it got worse; worse than when her foster father tried to rape her, ridiculously bad-er than when her twin brother hung himself in front of her, and enormously more evil than when she’d killed the person that drove her and her little brother to insanity, cold blooded, and at the ripe age of 9... . and she rolled into a canal, nearly drowned herself in the joyous process of almost joining her family in the afterlife…
All of a sudden, she wished with all her might to breathe, as stupid as it sounded, underwater… and then, she did. Soon enough, she made this her job, got better day by day and when someone approached her with an interesting gig... well, she never turned back.
