Chesterfield Act Registry of the Expressive Database
File #15 Feb 2018 10:47
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portrayed by Cillian Murphy |
Appendices
Availability
The below is a very rough outline of my general availability, and doesn't factor in such occurrences like a social life or homework. This may change in the future as school begins and I designate some study periods for myself.
These are American days/evenings.
Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday | Friday | Saturday | Sunday |
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
Available | Nocturnal | Sporadic | Nocturnal | Available | Available | Sporadic |
If you need to get in touch, please @mail Brooklyn.
Facts
Known to Most
- Benji Ryans has very little publicly known about her, but in circles that care to, she is most known for her involvement in the war and having chased it in its retreat towards the west with Calvin Sheridan. She is one half of an infamous duo that exercise little to no mercy against the anti-Evo aligned.
- And they have not yet finished with the war. There are most certainly warrants for her arrest.
Known to Some
- She is from the future, or a future. Along with others of her generation, she arrived from the year 2040, from a world ravaged by disease and war, in the hopes of preventing this disastrous outcome. She carried with her an extensive bank of memories and recollections from the future, passively distributing them via dreams in the hopes of generating course correction.
- She is the daughter of Nick Ruskin and Delia Ryans.
- She and Calvin remain in contact with government officials and Wolfhound, both to supply information as well as covertly act on it.
- When on the east coast, she can be found in the Bronx.
- In dreams, she goes by an avatar called 'Jasmine'.
Known to Few
- Thanks to the fickle nature of her ability, Benji has an extensive knowledge of pharmaceuticals with regards to maintaining and disrupting sleep cycles, and rendering people unconscious or conscious quickly. She often has a few loaded syringes on her.
- Her false ID for moving through civilisation society is 'Joshua Kincaid', in honour of dead friends.
Unfinished Poems
Some written, some remembered.
she led me through a window before it could close like an eye
and into the first room.
"this is the coffin room," she said, and sighed; "look how this church light
dances with dust." she was right,
for the door was boarded as if to seal the bodies
within, without. we would have to leave by
kicking our way through.
next came the hallway, and we held hands.
"to the left," she said, "is the rain room." and here were the silver
dragonfly pools and tile, although all that came running through
the open roof was moonlight, after a while.
we found the garden room with the moss growing
up through the carpet and the fine hairs like hackles raised of rust and the
black spackles in its corners. room of flies, the room of the
blackened wall and broken glass, and we peeked into
the room with the eyes of fifty years.
"there are newborn kittens crying beneath the bed," she said,
"and i slept in the attic instead and wept."
the room of tears, i said.
our footsteps creaked and our shadows touched the walls
and halls of the house without home. take one thing, she said,
and then never come back. but she was lost with the others
who had left long ago, but i'd hate to admit
that i came here alone.