Victoria the Doberman Cop turned Rabies Survivor

Victoria Sharptooth. It just sounds like a badass name, doesn't it? And the woman who dons that name is just as badass as she sounds: ex-soldier, ex-cop, ex-private detective, a woman who could kill you right where you stand and not even blink. And now she's surviving in the middle of Manhattan during the rabie fuckin' apocalypse. In the middle of winter. Yeah, no shit. She quits the force cuz of some office politics bullshit, finally sets up her own detective office in the middle of the Bronx, gets one fuckin' case and then all hell breaks loose after a well-deserved sleep in. What the fuck!? Rabies. You know, a friggin' disease on the level of the black death, hasn't been a huge thing since like the dark ages and the doctor-shots were s'posed to stop people from gettin' it...Turns out them shits didn't fuckin' work. Guess her uncle Tony wasn't a crazy bastard after all. Anywho, apparently NYC was literally ground zero for this shit and the entirety of Long Island is blocked off with the entire army shootin' anything that moves past their barriers north of Manhattan. Great right? Everyone's dead or dying, it's cold as shit outside, there's no hope for rescue in the near future and Vic is holed up in her little hole-in-the-wall office/apartment in the middle of Manhattan itself. What's a girl to do, yanno? --- Physical

Description

a lean, sharp, and ruggedly attractive Doberman woman in her early thirties. She kept her hair cut to the fur (no hair, basically), her fur trimmed, and she had her ears cropped young. She stands at about 5 foot 10 inches and weighs around 160 pounds of mostly muscle. Her dark but sharp brown eyes can stare someone dead and they see every little off detail of a scene and every little whisper of body language perps give off. She has some curves but they've always been tucked under body armor or a uniform - at least until recently. Her black claws are trimmed short but kept sharp and she actually does have long, sharp white fangs in her maw - one of her canines is a silver tooth. It's a good story. She has a number of scars crossing her body but most prominent is a straight line bridging her nose and a huge, jagged scar that covers one breast. Sometimes that one aches. Once she left the NYPD she also got a couple of piercings in her ears, on her belly, maybe one or two somewhere more private - she was feeling a little emotional at the time, alright? The only big difference almost a month from zero day is that Vic has (very begrudgingly) let her fur grow out into a fuller winter coat. She feels like a hobo but it's warm. Plus she doesn't really know what to do with her actual hair now that it's eye length. Style: Vic keeps it pretty simple and maybe a little bad-girl-like. Cargo pants, simple tees, maybe a collar or a simple pair of earrings to spice things up; she hates it when even her own clothes get in her way. She's not really the type to dress up very much - the last time she did regularly was on the force and it left a bad taste in her mouth. It doesn't help that she has to have certain EDC items with her or she gets twitchy, especially right now. Flashlight, multitool, zip ties, gun in a shoulder holster (her trusty Beretta 92FS); recently she's gone the extra mile and she always has a strap-bag with food, a map, a bottle of water, and one extra mag. Oh, and a cell phone but that don't work nowadays - radio is about the only thing left that connects New York City to the rest of the planet. That plus a fuckin' crowbar for silent kills and busting shit down; indoors she usually keeps on a police parka to stave off the creeping cold.

Personality

Victoria is a very tough, gruff, and almost mean New York City type. She's no bullshit and she doesn't have a lot of patience...especially for said bullshit. She can be kinda nice, sometimes, but it's hard for Vic to express. What? It's just how she is. Growing up in the cracked out Bronx does that to ya. She's rough around the edges, hard, and kinda sharp but she's smart too. And she does kinda have a softer side but it's...not somethin' she likes to show to just anybody. She's been in constant go-mode since the outbreak began and it's been wearing on her more than she'd like to admit. Druggies, thieves, even killers she can handle. Normal folk turned into amped-up beasts willing to destroy themselves to get her? Seeing the hints of humanity still present in their red eyes? Yeah, shit sucks. Vic ain't the type to be a bitch but it's fuckin' freaks her out man, seriously. Past: Vic joined the Army to get the hell out of the Bronx when she was 17. She was actually deployed to Afghanistan as a grunt who mostly did FOB security. It was actually really boring for a warzone but the sexism was fuckin' intolerable so she quit after her first contract expired; soon after she got hired as a cop in the NYPD through a couple buddies. And boy was she a fuckin' good cop. Vic could sniff out any chickenshit perp from a mile away and she could beat the hell outta him too. She was moseying her way up to Lieutenant like a soaring eagle till the office politics started becoming a thing. Such an eyeroll, man, you get off the streets and into the office and all this smarmy shit starts. Vic, er, kinda got into beef with the Chief Deputy and so she quit that too. Burned a couple bridges doing that but oh well, fuckem. She used her experience (and a couple favors) to become a private detective and shit was set to go - then the apocalypse happens. Apocalypse: Okay so basic rundown: Vic is holed up in a mid-rise in Manhattan. The army is tryin' to contain the virus and that means killing anyone trying to escape the city - even healthy people. They're setup along I287 up North, and on every beachhead and riverside along the "quarantine zone" to make sure nothing gets through. Radio broadcasts with limited but pertinent info are played every morning and every evening; sometimes the transmissions power through the weather, sometimes they don't. They stopped sendin' care packages the first week. They say power is gonna go down during this next storm and she can feel the city's boilers are running on empty. Victoria's place ain't gonna be livable for very much longer - she's been raiding other apartment in her building for supplies but sooner or later she'll have to head to the streets to survive the cold (cuz the higher the colder, yanno?). From the looks of things most people tried to evacuate while they still could...which is to say before the army blew the bridges and tunnels and started shooting first, asking questions later. That still leaves probably a couple million freaks in NYC alone plus the rest of Long Island. Her building is mostly empty but she's seen only raboids and chaos down below. The streets are packed with cars and debris and rabid people and the fires that consumed the city went out during the first week's storm. Basically, Vic has to escape from NYC if she wants to live...but getting out of the belly of the beast ain't gonna be easy. Rabies: Vic never remembered much from her time in public school, especially not about history. She only knows what the radio broadcasts have told her - rabies infection spreads through bodily fluids, onset comes in 3-5 days, no cure is known. Symptoms include hydrophobia, delerium, and hyper-aggression in later stages. And, fuck, do they really mean hyper. She's seen an R (Raboid, Red, R, Roid - the fuckin' infected okay?) break their own arm smashing against a car door to try to get at someone, seen R's rip muscles leaping towards their victims...she's even seen them crying. Heard them saying shit to themselves through the walls. One of her turned neighbors called her name and he was totally fucking gone. In the cold nights they slip into the warmer buildings and like hibernate or some shit - she's seen them stumble in at dark and stumble back out at daybreak from her apartment. Bad Habits: Yes her fuckin' bad habits have come back, it's the Goddamn rabies apocalypse for fuck's sake! She's been smoking every cig she can get her paws on (she was trying to quit), drinking whenever she feels safe enough, constantly cleaning her weapons and checking maps and - worst of all - obsessing over those fuckin' radio broadcasts. It's almost never good news on there and Vic knows they're making her headspace worse but what else can she do? Tough New York Doberman, stern and cunning, watchful, a little intense sometimes, kind of stuck in cop/soldier mode, struggles with her femininity and even more with civilian life

Rabies apocalypse has hit NYC and Vic - and everyone else who wasn't lucky enough to get out in time - are trapped.