Kathryn Ainsley
The Basics
Name: Kathryn Ainsley
Gender: Female
Age: 26
Race: Human.
| NYU Journalism Handbook for Students: |
| Journalists must live up to the highest standards of integrity, and by integrity we mean: truth, fairness, sincerity, and avoiding the appearance of a conflict of interest. |
The Physical
Physical Description:
Being compared to a pixie isnt as flattering as it used to be. Not with how the world has changed. The fact that Kathryn barely hits five foot three and might be a touch over a hundred pounds soaking wet doesnt help the argument. Petite features overall, a fair complexion, and unremarkable grey eyes only sort of suit the epithet. Really the most interesting thing about her might be her hair and clothes. Hair colour is an aesthetic choice and as changeable as the seasons. Mostly she favors a dark auburn, but has been known to tuck into vibrant reds and fashionable ombre styles when the mood strikes. The whole inclination toward that fits her Urban Chic leanings. Who doesnt love a little nod to New York fashion week?Alternate Form: What? Hahaha... No.
Talents & Weaknesses
Skills: Journalism is just a tacit cover for the insanely curious who have a bit of a flare for writing and a penchant for getting into places they werent specifically invited. Also, it pays the bills. Mostly. Oh, you want more than that? Im a decent hand with a camera and a keyboard. Nothing special. Just about anybody can point a camera these days and who doesnt own a computer? ...Oh, um. I can also make a mean grilled cheese? None of that craft special plastic mystery cheese shit either. Gross.
Powers: Does scathing sarcasm count?
Vulnerabilities: Human, kind of squishy about the middle. Black licorice? Okay, so not so much a vulnerability, vulnerability, but the stuff is disgusting and anyone who loves it is clearly suspect.
Under The Hood
Personality: Annoyingly amicable and persistent. Kathryn Ainsley is just one of those quietly likeable people. Okay, eventually. She does have a way of just wearing a person down until they give in. Sure, she isnt a saint by any stretch, but New York isnt exactly some bucolic make-believe wonderland either.
Backstory:Maybe there is something magical about ignorance. The ignorance of childhood is filled with wonder that slowly ebbs away for some and is ripped unseemly from others. Kathryn Ainsley can claim the former at least. She had a relatively happy childhood. Loving parents and extended relatives that dont completely hate each other at the very least. Nothing is perfect. Those are the real fairytales. The stuff Hollywood wants you to take in with your bowl of cheerios, but this isnt California. New Yorkers are made of sterner stuff. Life lessons come with a sharp edged smile, and Kathryn learned to smile right back. Okay, occasionally flip the bird while shouting obscenities and making colourful claims about supposed parentage of the offending party. She is only human.
By the time she went to NYU for her degree in journalism she had managed to get that little urge down to a murderous mumbling behind a sweet smile. That is the great thing about humans. They are capable of learning. Like the great myth about high school being the best time of your life? Really that has got to be the biggest joke of all time. Not that college is some spectacular apotheosis, but that fancy piece of paper sure does open a lot more doors. The ironic twist was falling into writing articles on fashion trends and rumours about who was sleeping with who among the rich and famous. Kathryn would admit that that still felt a bit like high school, but it was steady enough work and not at all boring. Until the world turned upside down.She knew people in Chicago. Friends who had grown up and moved for various reasons. Colleagues who she used to swap outrageous stories with over drinks. The loss is a little numbing in the face of what happened. Having the blindfold ripped off with a personal fuck you added to the mix. All of the wonders and horrors whispered about made vividly real. Everything else is so pale by comparison. So much more fragile. She doesnt blame the mortal governments for their reactions. How could she? She lives with the same fear and awe as the rest of humanity. The world turned out to be a whole hell of a lot more dangerous than anyone could possibly believe.
The real wonder here? Humans are resilient. They are curious creatures. They adapt. They need to know more in order to quantify their world. Make it small and manageable again. Kathryn is no exception to that particular quirk either. The tragedy of loss lit a fire in her. She burned with curiosity about what might have been lurking in her beloved city all along. All the gossip and the puff pieces about who was really what was just the first step. Everything from there was just a strange tumble down the proverbial rabbit hole. Have you ever tried to book an interview with a wizard, or tried to have a serious conversation with one of the little folk? At least the troll under the Brooklyn Bridge is a nice fella. A little terrifying, but kind of nice to talk to sometimes.
Connections: A little bit of everything and a whole lot of nothing. You cant throw a brick in this city without hitting something supernatural these days. Not that any of them really want to talk. Closed lipped bastards. Local cops arent much better, but at least theyll sit down and hedge around issues over a decent cup of coffee.
The Preamble
It was close to midnight, but the city was never really quiet. One of the best things about New York was that it never sleeps. At least it wasnt raining. Not that Kathryn didnt mind the rain. It just made the trek more of a task than a pleasant visit. She sipped her coffee and shifted the powder pink box of pastries balanced against her hip. It had taken a week of wheedling to get the shop to make up a fresh box this late. Wheedling and agreeing to write up a review. Nothing was for free. Plus, she paid full price and tipped. Worth every penny though as she settled herself on the bridge."Hey, Boss," she murmured softly as the last midnight jogger passed. He hadn't needed to give her that kind of look. She wasn't a complete fucking loon. Who goes out of their way to talk to a troll without bringing a treat? She popped open the box and fished out the cheese Danish that was for her. The rest went to the big guy under the bridge. She didn't need to dangle it. Just closed the lid and pushed it a bit to the right. "Got your favorite. Fresh this time just like I promised."
She leaned her elbows forward on the railing and took a bite of her Danish. Still warm. Paired perfectly with the coffee she picked up. She politely ignored the massive hand that came out from under the bridge. Better to take another sip of her coffee and look up at the night sky. Delicate business to strangle the lizard brain urge to panic and run. That would just be rude. Plus, he was always so very careful when he plucked the box from the top of the bridge. The nonverbal rumble of thanks sounded more like rocks tumbling over one another under flowing water than anything remotely human. It made Kathryn smile to hear it.
"No luck with those supposed wizards still," she commented after another sip of coffee. She crossed her legs at the ankle and let them swing a little. Just a touch of whimsy in the motion, but how many humans bothered to make friends with the monsters? Maybe she did deserve that look the jogger had tossed her way. Who goes jogging at midnight anyway? She gave her head a shake at the thought and took another bite of her pastry. It would be a few minutes before the big guy settled himself enough to have a proper chat, but she had learned she could just babble a little to fill the silence. He said he didn't mind. She suspected he mostly just liked the company.
"I might have an in to a photoshoot with something more exotic. Not sure what, but a friend of a friend vouched for me." A quirk of a smile turned up her lips. She didn't do a lot of writing for fashion week anymore, but the connections she had made before the world changed were still there. "If I can't get the story from one side, I may as well get it from the other. Might just be the tipping point I need to be taken seriously." She let out a soft sigh and took another bite of the Danish. The idea of even trying to go back to what she used to love was just depressing. She had to keep trying. Sure it was dangerous. She was only human, but damnit she couldn't just neatly sweep the idea under the rug and forget everything. Not now. Not when the truth of the world was so close she could almost touch it.
Besides, she had made at least one friend. More would follow. She was sure of that in her bones. Who would bring him midnight pastries if not me? She huffed out a soft chuckle and ate the rest of her Danish in companionable silence. The stars were lovely overhead. She decided to take that as a good sign. Not for any other reason than she could. Humans were perfectly good at lying to themselves after all.