(ASHLEY MOORE, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER)ย Oh, is thatย IRIS BECKETT?ย I heard theย THIRTY-THREEย year old isย ADAPTABLE.ย But donโt let that pretty face fool you, they are also COCKY.ย Makes sense seeing how they are a HACKER in theย THE SYNDICATEย gang.ย
TRIGGER WARNING: child abandonment, implied emotional abuse
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name: iris jolene beckett nicknames/alias: lady rouge ( hacker handle - meant to resemble blowing a kiss in the direction of your enemy )
faceclaim: ashley moore
age: thirty-three gender: cisfemale sexuality: bisexual date/place of birth: april 9th / manhattan, new york city currently: queens, new york city
occupation: manager at big brain tech hacker for the syndicate.
positive traits: adaptable, intelligent, compassionate negative traits: cocky, overtrusting, closed-off astrological sign: aries archetype: the spider woman
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april 9th, 1991
you weren't born into splendor, but you didn't know poverty either. your father, a literature professor at new york university, brought home enough food to feed the two of you. why only two? well, your mother took off a mere handful of days after you were born, not even brave enough to face the two of you. at least she left a note, explaining, in detail, that she wasn't ready to be a mother. you were a rather easy child to rase. calm, gentle, easy to love. that is, until you had the capacity to form thoughts. you see, your father was a strict man -- with expectations so high you'd have to blow through multiple glass ceilings to get there. you got good grades, beyond good in fact -- and your iq score showcased abnormally high activity. and yet, it wasn't enough for him. and while you would have done anything to please him in your early years, his worst nightmare soon came true, you stopped giving a shit.
you were thirteen when you began to realize that your efforts would never mean anything to him -- that you were nothing more than something to display. thus, you rebelled. you came home with your first piercing the second you could -- the grounding was worth it. you bought yourself the septum the moment you turned eighteen with the money you saved waiting tables. and then came the tattoos. you spent most of your late teens vowing to become his worst nightmare. and you did.
it wasn't like you needed him to fund college either, considering your full-ride to fucking colombia to study computer science. when your father wasn't there, computers were. and they would protect you the rest of your life. they would bring you places no degree could, even if it looked damn good on your wall. i graduated from fucking colombia, bitch.
summer 2009
you arrive at colombia. thus, a new era of your life begins. one where you vow to become your own woman, and are free of your father. amongst tremendous pressure, you excel at colombia and graduate at the top of your class. all the while, you manage to have a strong and stable social life. you had little time for dating, finding yourself only the time to engage in a couple meaningless flings here and there -- finding it easier to be free of a true romantic interest. everyone at colombia was much too vanilla for you anyway. following graduation, you were overwhelmed by those telling you that you were bound for greatness. that there was so much good in you, and the world would reap its benefits.
maybe some of it was true -- but not in the way they'd ever expect.
[ REDACTED ]
you meet him by chance, in a crowded dive bar during a night out with some college girlfriends. he wasn't like the colombia boys, perhaps the furthest thing from it. maybe that's why you couldn't stay away, like a moth to a flame. nico macavoy looked bad for you. the kind of bad that rots your teeth completely, like burnt sugar. considering your track record, it was a shock to no one when you let him beneath your skin. boy, was that the biggest mistake of your life.
[ REDACTED ]
2021
it wasn't shocking, what you uncovered. the lies, the cheating. you ran as fast as you could, but something in you still cared. you never once uttered the words i could fix him, finding them to be the thoughts of a fool. and yet, subconsciously, did you want the honor of putting him pack together? hell, what kind of honor is worth so much pain? and so, you ran. you ran as fast as your feet could carry you -- into the arms of the syndicate. lady rouge was born. first -- she was the newbie that people underestimated before eventually becoming the queen of the hacking world, every cyber attack sealed with her signature kiss. the black widow, the spider woman. for once, you were the one in the drivers seat of your own life -- without a man looking over your shoulder, making a feeble attempt to tell you what to do. freedom, at last.
now that you've got a taste of that freedom, there's no way in hell you'll ever go back.
you've made quite the life for yourself, with your newfound family. you live in a shoebox in queens, but it's a roof over your head -- one you can call home. you've become the manager at big brain tech by day, the kind of manager you can have fun with -- but the kind you'd respect. by night, you relish in the hunt, catching even the smartest of hackers into your signature honey trap. even if you may not have had the longest stint in the syndicate, talent like yours doesn't come very often.
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iris has a very smart, practical fashion sense. she's aware of what flatters her body, but doesn't stray very far away from her classic all black outfit and signature red lip. she is lady rouge, after all. she'll show up somewhere in the occasional pair of slim dark wash denim, but she loves the way black looks on her.
would not touch nico again with a ten foot pole. in fact, not even that would be enough. make it a hundred. at least, that's what she tells herself... but there's no way in hell she'd ever take him back. somehow, she still manages to give a fuck about him.
a kindhearted woman, even if she enjoys being feared on the internet. she genuinely cares very deeply and loves hard, even if it's gotten her into some shit in the past.
relishes in the fact that there are very few women in her industry, and will not hesitate to put a man in his place. snark queen (tm).
has a bulldog named kenny, who she would burn down city blocks for. that is her baby and she loves him deeply.
covered in tattoos. and every single one of them has some kind of story. she calls them her autobiography.
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