Name: Delphine Monroe<br/>Nickname: Dellie<br/>Age: 20<br/>Appearance:<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fd6vrtzdlbankn.cloudfront.net%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2018%2F03%2FChandler_Kinney_436-683x1024.jpg&amp;hash=42dee6006457643249255d772f80d5b3" href="https://d6vrtzdlbankn.cloudfront.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Chandler_Kinney_436-683x1024.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Delphine</a><a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi2.wp.com%2Figlives.tv%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2020%2F03%2Fchandlerlkinney_feb29.jpg%3Ffit%3D1080%252C870%26ssl%3D1&amp;hash=d92e72221d4b499d6512907c5ff34fa2" href="https://i2.wp.com/iglives.tv/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/chandlerlkinney_feb29.jpg?fit=1080%2C870&amp;ssl=1" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Monroe</a><br/>Nationality: a mix of African and British<br/><br/>Delphine stood at the top of a six story building, the light of the rising sun somewhat hindering her vision, looking over the desolate and broken city, the wind whipping at her long, knotted curls. Her bottom lip held between her teeth as she surveyed her surroundings, wishing there was a way out of this hell. With one earbud in, the five foot one girl stepped down from the ledge and huffed out an aggressive breath, picking up her sword and the pacing begun. This was her daily routine, the stress of survival was nothing new but the threat of being eaten alive added its own little something to her anxiety. After about five minutes she stopped and looked back out at the streets, her grip tightening over the handle of her blade, the weight of not only her life but also her only slightly younger sisters life was in her hands.