<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;">Poison</span></span><br/><em>Lethal Lady, Crazy Bitch</em><br/><strong>STR:</strong>0<strong>SPE:</strong>4<strong>INT:</strong>8<br/><strong>DUR:</strong>0<strong>AGL:</strong>4<strong>PER:</strong>4<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">6 Months Ago</div><div class="spoiler_body">-----<em>Ursa City Research Hospital</em>-----<br/><br/>"<strong>Dr. Madelyn Evans, please report to the office of Administrator Clemens.</strong>" is announced over the PA. Maddie listens almost listlessly in her office, registering it almost slowly. Today was a day rougher then most. Her mind stirs, so she pops another pill from her jacket and heads to the office.<br/><br/>The first clue that something was wrong was the pill bottles on his desk.<br/><br/>"<strong>You wanted to speak with me Sam?</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Maddie. . .I don't know how to say this. The Thompson case has been tossed.</strong>"<br/><br/>Shocked, the stupor in her eyes lifts a bit.<br/><br/>"<strong>What? But he was caught inviting a couple friends over to take turns on his own daughter- he even asked an undercover cop.</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>The case pinned on your expert testimony. He hired a private investigator to follow you and. . .he found something.</strong>"<br/><br/>The bottles are picked up, medicine bottles with blank labels.<br/><br/>"<strong>Maddie, what are these? I mean, the interns joke  when they call you Dr. She-House but if I had known that it came with the pain medicine addiction. . .</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Those aren't pain meds.</strong>" she replies plainly, producing her own bottle from the jacket. They found her spares- not good.<br/><br/>"<strong>I still need to know, what are these? Do you make them yourself?</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Yes,</strong>" she responds, popping another one right in front of Sam. The truth, he deserved that much, "<strong>They're anti-psychotics, customized to my biochemistry to minimize the intelligence dulling side effect.</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Jesus- Maddie, why didn't you tell anyone?</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Would you go to a doctor who was a Paranoid Schizophrenic with Disappropriate Retaliatory-Anger Issues?</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Christ!</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Exactly.</strong>"<br/><br/>Sam shakes his head, sitting at his desk.<br/><br/>"<strong>Do the pills work?</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Yes, for the most part. Some days are better then others.</strong>"<br/><br/>Sam pinches the bridge of his nose as he sighs.<br/><br/>"<strong>We're being sued, defamation of character. Thompson is suing us for putting up a drug addict as an expert witness- and if he knew that you weren't an addict but sick. . .Maddie. I can make some phone calls. You know that job with the Hanover Group you wanted? That I literially begged on my knees for you not to take? I'll make some phone calls. You can be working there tomorrow if you resign right now.</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Sam. . .</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Dr. Evans, you are sick. You need help. And until you get it I can't legally risk you being with patients. And if I didn't do everything in my power to keep you in medicine I'd be punishing everyone else. The Hanover Group is pure research, it's perfect.</strong>" he finishes, explaining everything.<br/><br/>Madelyn curls her lip in anger even through her medication. A part of her says that the only thing saving Sam was that he was honestly trying to soften the blow. And another part of her doesn't even believe that, only that these damn pills are making her slow.<br/></div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">4 Months Ago</div><div class="spoiler_body"><br/>Late at night was Maddie's own time. Her time for privacy and personal work. Officially, she was just a work-a-holic. The truth though, the truth was that her own projects were getting more and more personal. The medication was loosing it's effectiveness, have to make it stronger but in way that keeps her intelligence sharp. She didn't like going home anymore, the Red Room was there. The room she goes when she can't hold the Red inside anymore.<br/><br/>The other experiment was working well though. The free-masons were poisoning her food. Well, it could have been the Illuminati but the result was the same. Someone was trying to kill her, she knew it. The gene therapy was working though- the burning in her veins was incredibly painful but it should have killed her 5 times over this time.<br/><br/>Dr. Andrew Goode walks inside her lab. HER Lab. There was reason why the last two months were the   most prolific months the Hanover Group has ever had. Dr. Goode had a guest, someone Dr. Evans knew very well.<br/><br/>"<strong>As you see. . .Oh, I didn't expect anyone to still be here.</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Could you leave my lab, Mr. Goode.</strong>" Dr. Evans says pointedly. Dr. Goode mostly got by on the  work of other scientists. Madelyn knew from the day they met that he wasn't smart enough to get a PhD on his own.<br/><br/>"<strong>Dr. Evans. You missed another table meeting.</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>I was hired for research, not politics. You are interrupting the research, please leave.</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Maybe you should pay more attention to the politics.</strong>" Dr. Goode responds with his verbal sword drawn, "<strong>You'd know a few things.</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>I can know a few things without looking over other people's notes, Dr. Goode.</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Would you know about how you've been fired?</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Wha. . .</strong>" she replies with shock- how? What had she done? It was getting harder but her mind was being held in fine. The only reason she doesn't fly into a rage right that second was the drugs in her system.<br/><br/>"<strong>Nothing personal, we've been bought out by Daggett Pharmaceuticals. Our research is theirs now, but for the most part the staff is redundant.</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Most?</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Well, as the primary contributor of ideas in this think tank I deserved some sort of position.</strong>"<br/><br/>Rage flares, and her face visibly curls in anger even past the drugs. A hand goes back into the workbench, finding a syringe.<br/><br/><em>Do it.</em> she hears from the Red Room. <em>Do it.</em><br/><br/>"<strong>Oh, I don't know about that,</strong>" the guest remarks, "<strong>I'm sure a woman like you can get something.</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>Freddy?</strong>" Dr. Goode remarks with a snicker.<br/><br/>"<strong>What? I always liked blondes.</strong>"<br/><br/>Madelyn, part of her for the respect of all women everywhere and part of her just because she was that tired of holding in the Red, holds up the sadly empty syringe. The scream is one of primal rage that's echoed from time immortal as she lunges for the two of them.<br/><br/>"<strong>CRAZY BITCH!</strong>" Goode yells in surprise as the empty syringe breaks on the suit of his guest, who responds with a solid punch to her face, "<strong>SECURITY!</strong>"<br/><br/>"<strong>YOU'RE DEAD! YOU'RE BOTH DEAD!</strong>" she let's out as the Red flies in that lab. At some point she was restrained by 4 security guards, at some point she had to be pulled off of a man's neck, at some point she was told she'd never get a job again. The exact order of things was fuzzy to her and probably always would be.<br/><br/>Dumping out her medication down the sink in the Red Room definitely happened though. Dumping out anti-psychotic drugs with thoughts of poisons dancing in her brain.<br/></div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">2 Months Ago</div><div class="spoiler_body"><br/>She was ready. The gene therapy was done, the supplies were ready, the planning over, even the costume was all together. It showed a bot of skin admittedly, but the gene therapy and acclimation had made her immune to the vast majority of poisons- and the feeling with a chemical weapon is trying to burn through your skin, to arrest your life, to seep in through your pores as it tries to liquefy your insides- it was spiritual in it's own way. Dying was when she felt the most alive some days.<br/><br/>The gas-mask covers her face letting her blond hair hang low. The syringes were works of art, but nothing compared to the artistry that had gone into the fluids inside them. The boots, shorts, and top hid way more compartments then one would think they did and she had a jacket with more of them when she needed it.<br/><br/>Perfect.  Yes, if this world was a "Good and Decent" one then she would be the one to stick the needle in herself. The question only was who first?<br/><br/>Keith Thompson. The man had gall, she had to give him that. He had kept threatening the lawsuit, so he gave her a few months after her last job and sued her then. That's right Keith, how DARE she tell a courtroom that in her expert opinion he had been drugging and with some friends repeatedly raping his own daughter. That certainly was worth getting sued over.<br/><br/>She knocked on his front door barely holding in a laugh. The gasmask hiding her face, she only was worried when she saw how many cars were here. Another 'party'. He had his friends over. Tonight was another night for poor Elizabeth.<br/><br/>She knocks again, louder. A man answers with his shirt off, not Keith. Who? It didn't matter from the look of him, covered with a sheen of sweat and smelling of sex.<br/><br/>"<strong>What you want bitch, Halloween candy?</strong>"<br/><br/>The needle slips in quick like she practiced, right between two ribs. His own heart pumps the poison into his lungs, which fill with blood so fast he doesn't even have time to scream- but he'll take a while to convulse and die. Perfect. Stepping over him, Poison makes her rounds in that house.<br/><br/>The phone call the police got was anonymous, a muffled voice that sounded vaguely feminine. Three men, found very dead- their lungs full of blood, pus, and fluids not fit for description with a deadly poison still in their veins. And the only suspect they had was a teenage girl, who was still unconscious from the date-rape drugs in her system.<br/><br/>Some detectives didn't know whether to cringe in fear or cheer.<br/><br/>And Dr. Madelyn Evens was probably the most surprised of them all. Who knew murder could be so much fun?<br/></div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Today</div><div class="spoiler_body"><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote from: URSA CITY INQUIRER</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Police sources have released a statement, confirming rumors around Ursa City of the existence of a Serial Killer. Known only as Poison, a blonde woman wearing a gas mask is believed to be responsible for the poisoning deaths of somewhere in the neighborhood of 25 to 40 men. Exact figures are hard to pin down as Poison seems to use a wide variety of poisons in her murders.<br/><br/>Experts say that the expertise in handling deadly substances displayed by Poison may hint at a career in the medical fields but otherwise little is known about her. Criminal Psychologists say that due to the comparative rarity of a female serial killer constructing a profile of Poison will take more time. They do believe that the preferred victim profile of Poison, that of men who are on the sexual offenders registry for rape or men who have had charges of rape against them dropped, does strongly point toward a woman who has been a victim of rape herself. They are asking the general public for help.<br/><br/>Help that they seem unlikely to find. Anonymous sources report that while people are hesitant to support someone who shows all the signs of being a serial killer, public outcry for her arrest is much lower then one would expect for such a prolific murderess. The Police would like to point out that just because she's killing alleged rapists now doesn't mean that won't change in the future.</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>Poison snickered when she read that. They were right on one thing. Rapists now was just a bit of fun, a rule for the game to make things more interesting. A socially acceptable target for her to practice her craft on, if tomorrow she decides to start killing school children instead she'd do it in a heartbeat.<br/><br/>She did like something else she read though. Profilers thought she was a rape victim? Well, life and the world has shit on her in many ways- but that wasn't one of them. If it takes them that much longer to find her, she supported it. Refreshed from the diversion, Poison starts the night's hunting ritual.<br/><br/>That is until she sees the letter slipped under the door of her lair. Addressed to Dr. Madelyn Evans, MD, PhD. Opening it quickly she goes to read.<br/></div></div><br/>The way it had been written, it read like a job offer. That was what bothered Poison/Maddie the most. Here she was, finally living life free of the damn medications and the law and all that trash from society and she gets a damn job interview. Be at the back of the Laprade Tower? Follow the signs? Oh she'd be there alright.<br/><br/>Poison came armed to the metaphorical teeth. Her costume wasn't nearly as glamorous, pretty, or cute as the costumes of the other women. Gasmask, a top that looked like wrapped bandages to show off her tattoo work, shorts, and boots- all modified to carry various supplies and weapons. And this time she added things too, bandoleers and belts of syringes and gas grenades with various chemicals brewing inside. Two hand-gun sized gas grenade launchers strapped to her back, and her lucky ornate syringe with golden designs in her right hand. The gas-masked villainess decided to take the long way down, the service stairs. She goes for stealth and cunning as she descends deeper into the dank and dark of the building. No shining and swift elevators, just concrete stairs and empty stair wells.<br/><br/>More then a few times she swears she hears guards or something moving ahead- but it keeps coming up nothing.<br/><br/>Finally, reaching the bottom of the steps later then it said to on the card, Poison kicks the most secure looking door she finds. More to get attention from the other side then anything. Syringe in one hand and one of the small grenade launchers in the other she tries to be prepared for anything.<br/><br/>Paranoia tells her to turn back, but when the CEO of Laprade Industries asks for an audience you pay attention. Even Dr. Madelyn Evans knew that.