paved_with_good: (Default)
Name: Jenny Rebecca (Taylor Phoraceae)
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Birthday: November 24, 1977

Preferred PB: Laura Linney

Occupation: Assistant of Research for Ukrainian branch of Umbrella Corp. Also “official” unofficial snoop. She would do it for free.

Appearance: Jenny was born in the claustrophobically small lavatory of a private plane headed for Europe. Her hair was long and straight and blond and did not fit at all well with the dark green eyes that belonged to another woman entirely. Within minutes, the contacts were popped into their solution and when Jenny Rebecca walked down the exit ramp, she was every inch the ordinary harried passenger, scrambling for luggage and peering anxiously at the shuttle schedule. There’s a coffee stain on the sleeve of her sweater. Just a woman seeking a new beginning after a difficult divorce, no she’d rather not talk about it, oh and she’s quite positive she doesn’t know this Dr. Phoraceae who works for the NZ branch of Umbrella Corp, sorry, can’t help you. Oh wait, did you say Umbrella Corp? They’re a pretty large company here, right? Do you suppose they might have jobs available? Don’t know? Oh well, thank you anyway, have to run, bye!


Personality: Jenny Rebecca is sweet and even-tempered and very pleasant, if a little shy. She has fondness of anything musical or colorful, and she likes flowers, sunshine, all that jazz. If you get to know her (it’s not difficult – she’s quite friendly) she’s liable to come off as someone’s quirky mother or that pretty young schoolteacher you had back in elementary. She is neither of these things, though her aura is equally comforting. Optimistic and nice to young children. But then there’s Taylor.

Taylor is also sweet and even-tempered and very pleasant, although not shy so much as reserved. She is more. She is clear-headed and pragmatic and proud. She is ruthless and ambitious and certainly clever enough to know when to toss codes of honor for a quick and expert slice across the metaphorical jugular. Not that she would ever do such a thing. No, her talents much better serve mankind and the way of the just; she believes very strongly in Justice (the kind of justice with a capital “J”), and by Justice she means what she knows to be Justice. She is right and you are probably wrong, but she’ll forgive you because there is such a thing as mercy and she believes in that too.

She will show mankind Justice, and when it begs for mercy, it will know the truth (her Truth), and then there will be peace. Until then, she feels completely at ease spouting falsehoods and instigating wars. No you are mistaken, her logic is flawless.


History: Taylor became Taylor when she was eight through ten years old. The date is very fuzzy because she wavered for some time between a number of cool sounding names before she finally settled. Before, she had been named something more common like maybe Jenny, or Rebecca, or most likely Alice. While Taylor is not sure when she began, she knows exactly the moment Alice disappeared. She was gone the instant their little-child hand released a large glass container down a manhole at the center of a distant city. The rich, populated city of wealthy, indolent, thoughtless vacationers. (It no longer matters what the city was called.) And then Taylor was alone, running and tripping toward their bike. Her bike. She caught the homeward-bound ship just in time, last run of the day. So fortunate, just missed Hell-come-to-Earth. Only she knows that she didn't escape unscathed, even if she got away in time. Only she cares that the very first casualty that day was herself and Alice was dead, dead, and gone forever. In the name of justice.

She would regret it some time later; she’s not cold-hearted or inhuman at all, so of course she would regret it. She should have waited, at least until she could acquire better transportation. Her parents had flown away from the obscure little country they’d been living at (“it’s not so far away so it mak- no, you stay here, dear. We'll be fine.”) in order to help contain the epidemic. She hadn’t foreseen that, although she should have – her parents went out of their way to help others. As renowned scientists (renown as much for their excellent field work as for their impromptu and insupposable decision to retire to “feed the little children of Africa” as it were), their experience in pathogenesis was invaluable. They would eventually succumb to her little mutant parasite (affectionately named Attention I; it was very inefficient but effective enough), but not before they noted its close resemblance to some of the necrotrophs of their home village that killed off a large (too large) percentage of the young children each year. Alice had lost close friends to them, too bad there was no cure.

When a number of other population dense areas not too terribly far away fell to disease also similar to little known tropical parasites, the once half-dead branch of medical research was revived. New funding poured into the field and some serendipitous and well-placed media coverage later, many “incurable” diseases were no longer a threat to city-dwellers, nor to remote poverty-stricken children. Some money thrown in was all it took to finally end a problem most people (the ones with the money) barely acknowledged. A couple thousand lives (maybe – she never counted) were sacrificed, but tens of thousands had been dying for years unimaginable. For justice and the greater good. It helps if a hero is a cold and calculating bastard. Taylor was just calculating – by then a young teen, she launched her official career as a heroine by joining the legions of gifted young biologists in the field of Medical Parasitology. Top of her class – good stock of genes, you know? Her parents would be so proud.

Taylor completed herself very shortly after entering Umbrella Corp; she had achieved all that she had wanted to achieve and any misgivings her dead family may have had about the choices she had made could be properly laid to rest. When she finally announced her decision to move to a more remote branch, the shock of her departure overcame any surprise at her requested name change. Leaving Raccoon City? She was missing out on a great new project, really she’d love it, they could really use her advice, well, if she insisted…

New place, new people, Dr. Phoraceae settled in with great pleasure, dyed her hair black for kicks and switched eye colors again this time to a deep green. Here were the studies she loved most and the chance, a gift of the opportunity, to improve the lot of mankind. Another wonderful chance to do good for the world, only this time she did it alongside a team of likeminded companions and there might even be gratitude in the future. She would have happily spent the rest of her years puttering away with the work she loved so dearly, but she had never been unaware and words slosh about down in the laboratories. The company was corrupt. The company had forgotten its central ideals. There was an accident. Something was wrong! The company was failing! The main body had crashed! …And then there was nothing.

Reviving the New Zealand branch of Umbrella Corp. was a long and tedious process and Taylor was too exhausted to do much beyond salvage, assess, and complete vital life functions as required. Once they were reestablished, however, there was little left for her to do that could not be done by their team of researcher-trainees. There were no new projects sent in from Central, and there were no orders beyond stabilizing their division. Nothing that required Dr. Phoraceae in anything but an administrator’s role. Rather than leaving her frustrated from lack of activity (idle hands), her superiors elected to send her on a working vacation. She was overworked anyway, and something was up with the Ukraine branch. A little unofficial investigation, find out what’s up, and keep the rest of the time for yourself. Agreed. The work is easy enough that she has plenty of time to familiarize herself with city, meet new people, and explore her inner-civilian.

Jenny Rebecca is basically the cover act for a higher-level scientist pretending to be a much lower-level one, because a simple assignment like “investigate” can be much more interesting when one is pretending to be a secret agent. She recently started working as an assisstant in the upper levels of Umbrella Corp (the innocent ones) in their botanical departments. This role is not the first one she has played, but “Jenny Rebecca” is special. She has Alice’s hair and smile and eyes and future. She is Taylor’s ideal, the woman she might have become if the cruel world had not thrust the duty of superhero into her capable, once-pure hands. She gets really into it.


Abilities/Weapons: Jenny has access to some general equipment so I guess if she was attacked at work, she could smack someone (something) with something large, metal, and hopefully not too expensive. Taylor has her carry around some solutions and containers she should probably be careful with, but most of them require some preparation time. She’s not expecting trouble of the violent sort (avarice and ignorance are more her line of work). In short, surprise attack for now pretty much means doom. At home, she has a Beretta M1934 that she knows how to use (in theory, that’s usually enough for her); she’s considering carrying it with her, as this city is starting to creep her out. Oh, and she’s pretty use to death and all that (starting with her childhood friends and working up from there), but she’s never killed someone with something so direct as a pistol before. She may take to it badly (or take to it too well).

Taylor has a more than decent idea on how to operate complex tech. Her extensive, though somewhat eclectic, knowledge of all things science (particularly applied science - sooner or later, it all gets applied somewhere) makes her useful to have around a lab, but a bit of a bore at parties. To rectify this, Jenny has taken to browsing local coffee shops for practice and less technical shelves of local bookstores for material. She is pretty useful to have around the scene of an accident too, as her medical knowledge is extremely valuable and she more than willing to help. A bit given to improvisation. Automatically diagnoses people she meets, but actually pretty bad at reading them. Facial expressions don't always click.


Alliance: Jenny/Taylor is a member of the (Neo) Umbrella Corporation, and she’s very devoted to it and its ideals for bettering livelihoods through science. She thinks there may be some corruption, but she’s not yet aware of the extent. Truth be told, she’d almost rather not know if her new family turned out to be a gang of psychopathic maniacs. Still, she has her morals, so she sets off to find out. Taylor was pretty important the company before it fell, but she missed out on major developments when she decided to transfer (to the New Zealand area, actually). A bit of a newbie, Jenny’s pretty far down the corporate ladder. She only works certain days of the week so Taylor has time to investigate things and take a breather from all the high-density data collecting back at “home”. A chance to relax, sort of thing. She's very much a civilian although given to haunting the poorer sections of towns with a purse full of first aid.


Some untruths: Young Alice based her name “Taylor” on the pretty local flower, the wood rose (Dactylanthus taylorii*). Once she was sure her family could RIP, Taylor chose a new family name: Phoraceae, based off of “Balanophoraceae”, a subtropical to tropic family of unusual parasitic flowering plants (the family that happens to include the Dactylanthus taylorii. Taylor would never be without family again). Some days, Taylor would remember the little girl Alice and miss her. She thinks if Alice had been able to grow up, she’d be something like Jenny Rebecca – good and innocent with a world of opportunities before her.

Although she may look it, Jenny is probably much older than her declared 29; her birthdate is entirely fictional, based on the day Darwin’s Origin of Species was first published. (It was a revolutionizing book; sometimes Taylor thinks she supports revolution.) As for the year… even heroines can have some vanity. Taylor has vanity, a high paying salary, extensive experience in genetic manipulation, and access to the latest technology. Not so much a reverse as a retain, but it’s all a little ironic, considering what the T-virus was intended to do.


*The Dactylanthus taylorii is a fully parasitic flowering plant indigenous to New Zealand. It is difficult to find and considered a Category A threatened species. In Maori, it is also known as pua o te reinga (“flower of the underworld”) and waewae atua (“feet of gods”).
paved_with_good: (5)

On Justice, Truth, and Peace
Written by Amy F. Bernon

Rabban Shim'on ben Gamli'el said,
"On these three things, the whole world stands:
On justice, truth, and peace."

Rav Muna added,
"Where justice is done, truth is done, and peace is made."

Hine ma tov uma naim shevet achim gam yachad.
(Psalm 133: Behold, how good it is for brethren to dwell together in peace)




On these three things the whole world stands:
On Justice, on Truth, on Peace, oh peace
Where Justice is done, Truth is done, and Peace is made
paved_with_good: (3)

Jenny Rebecca
Written by J.Hull, 1965

Jenny Rebecca, four days old
How do you like the world so far?
Jenny Rebecca, four days old
What a lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky girl you are

For you have swings to be swung on
Trees to be climbed up
Days to be young on
Toys you can wind up
Grass to be lying on
Sun up above
Pillows for crying on
When you're in love

Ponies for riding
Wind in your hair
Slides to be sliding on
Leaves in the air
Dolls to be caring for
Love to be giving
Dreams to be daring for
Long as you're living

Jenny Rebecca, four days old
What a lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky girl you are...

paved_with_good: (4)

There Will Come Soft Rains
by Sara Teasdale

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pool singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

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