This character initially started out as a pre-gen for an upcoming game of Base Raiders, but I think she might be an interesting spin on a character in Red Markets.
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Agnes Anderson was tired. And old. The only thing she had to look forward to was her retirement.
Well, thanks to the Blight, that has been delayed.
Anges wasn't always so tired. In her youth she was a member of the national guard. She volunteered to help with the Red Cross, and for a few years after that she worked as a missionary for St. Louis' Apostolic Church. She saw the ravages of hunger, poverty, and disease. On her last trip, she was on a truck delivering food and medical supplies to a village in Somalia ravaged by drought. When armed bandits robbed the convoy, she was stunned by the apathy of her armed guards. They offered no defense, no retaliation. They simply shrugged. This is the way it is, one guard told her. We have no government to aid us.
Agnes found a cause. She championed her government, and found herself a low-paying job that offered her what she wanted most: a comfortable retirement. She began her career as a food service worker in the public school district. She counseled her neighbors, friends, and congregation members about the benefits of having a strong government. A devout Catholic, Agnes attempted to date, but her piety and devotion to volunteer efforts left her little time for romance. She was fine with this; not every Catholic can help populate the lord's people. Her task in life was simple: champion the government, participate in labor movements, and serve her community. Her reward? Her pension, and the last quarter of her life spent in the quiet comfort.
Things started going badly before Agnes well before she became a czar in the Lost.
First, she noticed anti-government sentiment growing at an alarming rate. Then, she was caught off-guard by the sudden attack against labor unions. Soon she was no longer a government employee, but a worker for "Food Service Supply." She still worked for the school, but she was told she was now an at-will employee. Her pension was frozen; she would still receive payment for what she put in, but now she had to start putting money into a 401k. Her health insurance was replaced with a plan that gave her little room for additional savings.
She worked longer hours. Her pay was not increased. Her disposable income and savings were a fraction of what they once were.
She aged. She became tired. Her dreams of retirement were pushed back by at least ten years, if not more. She was scared to lose her job; she had no protection anymore. The company didn't seem to like her; they said she "cost too much." She started making mistakes, she couldn't sleep at night. Her doctor started giving her pills, but she had to pay her week's savings to get the pills. She called her local officials and congresswomen to plead for aid. She was told that they were simply doing what the people voted for.
The people. That is all she ever heard. Blame the people. Blame the voters.
She remembered the supply truck in Somalia. This is the way it is, she told herself. The people gave up on government. They decided to prefer no government.
And she was not surprised when the Blight started to ravage the world. The government failed to protect its people.
Which is exactly what the people wanted, right?
The years after the Recession were something of a blur to her. She remembers people telling her to go with them to flee. She remembers serving fewer and fewer students in the school cafeteria. She remembers grabbing her few possessions at home, including her Maine Coon, Julia, and moving it all to the school.
She remembers working with Carlos, the custodian, to board up all the doors and windows. She remembers carefully making an inventory of all the canned food items she had. She remembers.
But she also forgets. She forgets the time some young man came in with a gun. Carlos says she killed him and took the gun. Carlos says she did this multiple times.
She vaguely remembers seeing her first Casualty. It reminded her of a starving man she saw in Somalia. Some people said he had rabies. Others said he was possessed by a demon.
She tries not to think about Casualties now. They are like the snow in winter.
Carlos also told her she needed her pills. But she was too old to venture out to get them. So he says she made deals with others; she would trade her food for her pills and other supplies.
The pattern repeats. The people she trade with begin to ask if they can help fortify the school. She says yes to some, no to others. Carlos provides guidance. Carlos provides counsel. Julia meows.
Carlos tells her now the school is now a community. It is small, but it is sufficient. It has supplies, it has weapons, it has trade goods. It can survive, as long as she leads it.
She tells Carlos that she is tired. Carlos says she should consider growing the community a little more before retirement. She says she wants to retire. Carlos says she cannot do that yet; there is still work to be done.
So the pattern repeats again. The "School," as it becomes known, grows. It becomes strong. Agnes rules with strong, central leadership. There are laws; there is order.
She says she is ready to retire again. Carlos says the community needs to grow more. But it can't grow, she tells him. We are strong and stable, and our trades are well-developed. What else can we do?
A few days later, a worker informs her about the Red Markets. She asks Carlos what he thinks. Carlos mulls it over.
The worker sees his leader talking to herself. He becomes worried. Rumors start to spread.
Carlos then tells Agnes that this is her chance. She must make a score on the Red Market! Then she can buy her way into the Recession. Then she can retire.
Then she can rest.
Carlos will come with her, he says. Julia can come too.
Agnes decides it is time to retire
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For whatever reason my recent fascination is with OLD characters. Not ancient, but certainly elderly and struggling with aging. But just because they are old doesn't mean they are invalid and unable to perform. I guess I am on a kick to see if players can use aging as a role-playing opportunity, not as an obstacle.
And isn't it the ultimate American dream for an aging, schizophrenic lunch lady to become an entrepreneur and community leader?
