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Name: Cat
Age: Over 21
Journal: travelistaa
Contact: aim: travelistaa
1. Character's Name: Samantha James
2. Age: 33
3. Background:
Samantha was an ordinary British citizen born to an English mother and an Italian/Spanish father. She went through life like normal, going to grade school and finishing out high school top of her class. She attended Oxford University, double majoring in Anthropology (specializing in two sub-categories of anthropology: archaeology and linguistics) and Sociology, and eventually attended the university’s graduate/doctorate program in the School of Archaeology. She flew through the program with ease and attained her doctorate degree at the young age of 28, much to the surprise (and aggravation) of her peers. Throughout college, Samantha had little competition in her classes and gaining her professors favor - being someone who usually managed to edge out anyone else who came close, Samantha enjoyed a lot of privileges most students didn’t (such as unlimited access to labs, access to one on one study on the field, school funded archaeological trips/field schools to many places other students were not allowed). This was, of course, a great way to make enemies in the field and among your colleagues, and Samantha had few friends that weren’t professors. Her attitude was simple - if you weren’t as smart as her, she had little use for your input, or your help. Upon graduation and completion of her doctorate, Samantha was immediately placed on one of the largest archaeological excavation teams of the century, traveling the world to work on digs in Turkey, Egypt, Greece, Crete, Cambodia, and many other places.
There is always one that manages to make one’s life difficult, however, and that one for Samantha was Clayton Hughes. A biological anthropologist, Clayton Hughes was Samantha’s main competition at Oxford, constantly on her heels and giving her a run for her money in the schmoozing department. The hatred ran deep and even went so far as to deliberately sabotaging each others work in discreet, manipulative ways. The right slip of the word to the right professor, and Samantha or Clayton was immediately off the team, leaving the door open for the other to step smugly in. There were occasions when the two did work together, and when they actually managed to put their bickering and arguments aside, they functioned fantastically as a team.
Unfortunately, those cases were few and far between, and when Samantha was kicked off the team for a dig in Tel Bet Yerah (Khirbet Kerak), World War 3 was officially declared between the two.
There was extensive field work involved with her schooling - and after experiencing several instances of severe culture shock, Sam eventually adapted and managed to blend in wherever she traveled. Be it through dressing similarly to the locals or even going so far as to dye or bleach her hair, Samantha worked hard to fit in so that she was able to observe cultures and individuals hard at work in their own environment, uninterrupted. Each site and location she worked at, Samantha was able to distinguish herself to the local people and become a trusted liaison, especially when her teammates can’t speak the language.
Eventually paired with Clayton, Samantha began work in a remote territory in South America, in the very heart of the jungle. Contact with family and friends back in England were scarce, and far more abundant were the presence of snakes, mosquitoes, and several very large bugs that Samantha unfortunately had become intimately familiar with.
The original plan had been simple - navigate and excavate a recently discovered Incan temple in Peru. It was something they had experience in; Samantha and Clayton had both done many similar digs like this. The unfortunate part about the temple was that while Samantha and Clayton had absolute faith they would find something, the World Archaeological Society (WAS) had seen far too much money wasted on similar excavations only to find nothing but dusty emptiness and no finds. If Samantha and Clayton wanted to pursue this, they would have to fund the expedition themselves completely. Frustrated with the lack of faith the WAS had in the two renowned archaeologists, Sam and Clayton decided to throw caution to the wind, attempt to put differences aside (HA), and work together (HA HA) to get the money together in order to fund the excavation. It was a bit of a hassle and it took longer than necessary to accumulate the money and tools necessary for such a dig, though eventually, everything was accounted for, and after Samantha’s spat with customs (and security - and near detainment) in the international airport about why she needed to bring what looked like a miniature pickaxe and spade on board the plane (“They’re expensive and I don’t trust you people to keep your grubby paws off them-!”) they were comfortably seated on board, Samantha quiet as she sat steaming next to Clayton (who wore a very smug expression indeed).
On arrival in Peru, everything that could have went wrong, did. Samantha’s luggage had been lost (“I told you they’d steal my stuff!), Clayton’s passport was stolen, hotel reservations hadn’t been made (“You told me you were going to do it!” “No, Samantha, you were supposed to do it.”), most of the team they had planned on bringing backed out and didn’t show (“what, did you forget to call them, Clayton?”), the taxi was a stinking mess, and a giant spider had crawled onto Clayton’s hand in the parking lot of the only ‘hotel’ available (which had caused an uproar of uncharacteristically girlish screaming and flailing, which in turn caused Samantha to un-shoe her foot and proceed to whack Clayton senseless with said shoe. Said hotel was in (and nearby meaning a good 50 mile trek with a beat up Land Rover) the site, in a Peruvian village that provided a good base camp for the duo. The lodging was a bare bones inn with a cantina attached to the back. The place had no air conditioning, limited electricity, and an outhouse. Not unfamiliar with this sort of thing, Samantha managed to fit in spectacularly, and particularly enjoyed conversing with the locals in front of Clayton, who hadn’t a clue as to what was being said. After several shouting matches in the hallways (“You paid them to take my suitcase, didn’t you! Trying to sabatoge me!” “I did not, that’s just you’re paranoia kicking in, darling-“ “Don’t you dare call me darling!” “Oh, sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to call you darling, darling”), they were eventually placed at opposite ends of the hotel.
Despite their hang-ups, work began immediately at dawn the next day; gathering together a ragtag group of locals to help with some of the more menial things - setting up camp for the day at the site, cooking lunch, sorting through found artifacts - they made their way into the heart of the jungle towards the temple. Samantha and Clayton had miraculously come to an agreement that while the locals would be extremely helpful in said tasks, they weren’t trained for the more delicate work that archaeology sometimes required. That left the two to do most of the hardest and meticulous tasks themselves (which accounted for some extremely long days). It went like this for several weeks, Samantha and Clayton getting up before dawn and arriving back at their rooms long after the sun set (and one evening Samantha returned to her luggage sitting in her room, a huge relief). On a normal basis, they were far too exhausted (and too busy bickering) to pay much attention to the fact that they were being followed.
Eventually, as the two were hoping, a discovery was made. One day, while the sun was shining high and burning down on their hatted heads, the humidity was causing sweat to roll off their faces and trickle down their backs, and they were bent and hunched as they carefully and gently brushed dirt away from rock when Samantha’s fingers brushed against something. With an excited noise she had called Clayton over, motioning excitedly to the small opening that had lain buried beneath dirt and stone for thousands of years. The team was called over, and with the help of the locals and the two archaeologists, the small crack in the ground eventually gave way to a man sized hole that opened to a cool blackness that contrasted with the heat of the day. Determining that someone would have to go in, Samantha and Clayton proceeded to argue heatedly over just who that might be, ultimately deciding that both would go.
Then they argued about who would be lowered first.
Samantha eventually won out, and she was slowly lowered into the gaping hole armed with a lantern, her pack, and her trusty handgun (not like she’d need it, right? But one can never be too careful when slipping into an unknown hole). Once her booted feet hit the ground, she didn’t bother waiting for Clayton. She had crept forward, intending on exploring with or without him. Once she managed to get the lantern to work, the sight before her took her breath away. There were golds and riches that one couldn’t even possibly fathom, and the temple opened into an expansive cavern filled with ancient relics. Samantha hadn’t even heard Clayton come up behind her, she had been so enthralled. Deciding that this discovery was best kept a secret until they could figure out how to safely excavate without the threat of looting, the two stuck a deal right there in the caverns. They’d each take a relic and stow it away in their belongings in order to prove to the Archaeological Society that there was, in fact, something worth sending an entire team out to excavate. Both wanted credit for the find, so Samantha knew it would be a race to the Society’s office once they were back up, but there was something far more important than that right now, and that was protecting the find. If the locals found out that this treasure lie right beneath their feet, word would spread, and before Samantha and Clayton would be able to do anything about it, the place would be looted dry. So, Samantha selecting a small idol and Clayton picking an ornamental dagger, they stuffed the small relics into their packs, and headed back to the pulley system they had set up to get down there in the first place. Giving a tug and a holler, they were hoisted back up. Keeping it quiet, they two told the discouraged team that instead of gold and treasure, there was nothing but dirt, bugs, and dangerous caverns in the broken down temple. Work would have to cease for the moment, until the WAS could come and inspect, and the hole was resealed.
So, that night, Samantha and Clayton celebrated. It was a Friday evening in the village, and the cantina in the back of their hotel was completely packed with locals. The owners tended to be more lenient with the electricity on nights like this, so the multi-colored strands decorating the outdoor bar lit the way for a night of certain drunken debauchery. There came the inevitable shots of various alcohols (tequila included) and a lot of dancing, along with the fantastic sex that generally follows such evenings (UST RESOLVED). The next morning, Samantha woke in Clayton’s room with a banging headache, clothes-less, and alone. She had wrapped the sheet around her, padded down the hall to her room, snapping at anyone who dared look at her, slammed her door shut, only to find her room pillaged as if someone had been rooting for something very important. Stunned, she had dropped her sheet and started furiously searching for her idol, which, naturally, was gone. This was when Clayton had tapped on her cracked door, gave the naked Samantha an amused look, chewed his biscuit, and asked her what the bloody hell she was doing - though the amusement wore off pretty fast when he saw the state of her room.
Naturally, Samantha blamed Clayton for the theft, and an argument ensued and ended in Samantha’s door being slammed (again) and Clayton stomping off down the hall (“It was you, wasn’t it? You’re trying to sabotage me!” “In case you hadn’t noticed, darling, I was with you all night.” “Then where were you this morning?” “Getting you coffee, you impossible little twit.”) Samantha had dressed quickly, then moved around her room in order to continue her frantic search for the missing idol. Discovering that it was indeed still missing, Samantha was determined to find the culprit and get it back. It would take some doing though - there was no telling how long it had been missing or when it was stolen. She had cursed herself for leaving it unattended, and she felt sure that Clayton had taken it at some point. He’d had ample opportunity. Dressing quickly, she decided to pillage his room, while he was out.
So, armed with her pack and tools, she had gone back down the hall some time later, making certain that he was, in fact, out before slipping into his room. She never saw the blow to the back of her head coming.
When she woke up, it was dark, humid, and the burlap bag over her head smelled like shit. She had, of course, demanded in the sweetest possible way for it to be taken off, and an explanation as to what this nonsense was all about to be given. The bag had been unceremoniously ripped off of her head, and in front of her stood the famous (and infamous, oho) black market antiquities dealer in the South Americas. No one knew his real name, he only went by Alejandro, and he was renowned for his ‘transactions’, his methods, and never getting caught. There is, of course, a lot of back and forth arguing here, Samantha demanding her idol back, Alejandro laughing and telling her no, she wasn’t getting that terribly valuable idol back. Eventually, Clayton shows up having followed them (he had seen Samantha slip into his room, but had been unable to help, considering there had been four men in there). In a rare display of heroism, he managed to sling Samantha over his shoulder, snag her idol, and bean Alejandro in the head all in the same fell swoop. (It did not, of course, go smoothly; he had several bruised ribs from Samantha’s poorly aimed kicks, a knot on his head from getting punched by Alejandro, and a broken toe from one of the henchmen). Tossing Samantha unceremoniously into the Land Rover he’d brought, they had sped off and were, of course, followed. The ensuing car chase had a lot to do with Samantha screaming and demanding to be untied, bumpy roads, Clayton shouting at Samantha to SHUT UP, and gunshots. Unable to shake their tail, they had eventually (and accidentally) driven straight through the gates of a local drug lord’s estate.
Yep, you read that right.
Alejandro and company decided following them into that particular hornet’s nest wouldn’t be prudent at this point in time, and they finally backed off. Samantha and Clayton, however, had found themselves in the middle of a courtyard with a flat tire, possibly a bruised rib or two, and somewhere along the lines of twenty machine guns pointed at them. After some hurried explanations from Samantha, they were led through the grand home to the pool, where the owner was lounging lazily, entirely unconcerned by the ruckus that they had caused. After explaining again, the drug lord had laughed himself silly, then offered them the place to stay for the night, on the condition they GTFO in the morning, and take their land rover with them. In return for his generosity, he asked for only one thing. Since there was obviously some reason they were being chased and said drug lord was not STUPID, he demanded to know why, and, seeing right through Clayton’s feeble lie, the drug lord turned to Samantha, aimed a pistol at Clayton, and asked her one more time, nicely, wtf was going on. Reluctantly, Samantha explained that her idol had been stolen and she had been kidnapped, and they had just gotten it back and were being chased for it. She left the treasure part out, and her story seemed to satisfy the drug lord. Naturally, he demanded the idol, but not wanting to see Samantha fly off into a fit of rage, Clayton instead bargained with him, offering instead his dagger. The drug lord wasn’t one to be too greedy, so he accepted Clayton’s offer and took the dagger and then led an astonished looking Samantha and Clayton to be locked into their room for the night.
Things never go as planned, of course, and while the drug lord hadn’t seemed terribly greedy (he had, after all, everything he could possibly want), he was, in fact, a terribly greedy man. Sneaking into Samantha and Clayton’s room in the dead of the night, he attempted to murder them both in order to take Samantha’s idol. Clayton had expected this, and hadn’t fallen asleep. Samantha had been exhausted after the ordeal and had fallen facefirst into the pillowy bed, while Clayton sat watch in a corner near the door. He’d watched the drug lord come in and raise a knife to murder Sam, and had promptly conked him in the back of the head with a chair leg, effectively knocking him into an unconscious heap on top of Samantha. That hadn’t been one of Clayton’s wiser moves, and Samantha had woken with a shriek, and from there they had had to make a daring escape from the window of their second floor room into the courtyard.
It had been Samantha’s suggestion to steal one of the lord’s cars, they were already in to deep to get out now, so why not jack one of his Ferraris? She’d shoved him into the passenger side, frantically managed to hotwire it, then slammed the car through the garage door (couldn’t find the opener, oops). Samantha’s first instinct was to get to the airport and hop a flight back to England, but Clayton had a far better suggestion.
He wanted to go to Egypt. Because he ‘knew a guy’. Nothing about that could possibly go wrong, at all so after a lot of arguing and shouting in that little red Ferrari, they boarded a flight to Cairo.
Same is pulled from in the middle of this flight, when she got up to go to the bathroom, taking her belongings with her because she doesn’t trust Clayton.
4. Personality: There are a few key words to note about Ms. James in regards to her personality. She’s short tempered, moody, self-involved, impulsive, impatient, vain (in regards to her work), and brilliant. Samantha knows she’s smart, smarter than you, in fact - and has no problem voicing that or showing it to you, either. She hates to be proved wrong, and will scratch and claw to find any scrap of information, some minute detail that defies all other logic and proves you to be incorrect. Her decisions are sometimes made rashly with little regard to the consequences, and while sometimes this doesn’t work out, the vast majority of the time she’s right - and that’s what drives most people crazy. She’s independent, and doesn’t particularly like having to rely on anyone else for anything. She lives alone and pays her own bills and would rather starve for a week than ask her parents or someone else for help of any kind. She’s a go-getter, and isn’t afraid to reach out and snatch what she thinks should be hers for the taking. She doesn’t accept anything less than perfection in her life and her relationships, and if she doesn’t consider someone up to par for the task at hand, be it on a dig, in the lab, or in life in general - she is quick to write someone off as incompetent or ignorant.
Despite her flaws however, Samantha can have a magnetic personality - her enthusiasm and passion for her work tends to make people gravitate towards her despite her rough edges and demanding nature. She’s compelling in the sense that she gets things done no matter the consequences, and has an unbridled love for all things ancient and old, be it language, artifacts, or a culture. She’s hard to work with, and at times is bad-tempered and catty, but she shows an immeasurable amount of respect and awe at all things archaeological. Her soft side shows when she’s absorbed in a find, delicately brushing away specks of sand from a two thousand year old piece of bone, or carefully extracting a vase fragment from a tomb that has been in situ longer than modernized Christianity.
She’s the type of woman that can survive even the toughest of circumstances alone (AKA waking up in the middle of the night to find you are not alone in your tent and your company is NOT the handsome Brazilian you met at the cantina but instead a hungry Jaguar staring you down - she started carrying a gun after that) and has the ability to come back even after the most hellish situations. In contrast to this tough exterior, Samantha is also able to play the role of a female perfectly if need be. Donning a little black dress and some heels, Samantha manages to pull herself together quite well, despite not really being what society would consider beautiful.
5. Previous Game Developments: N/a
6. Appearance: Standing at 5’10”, Samantha is tall and blonde (sometimes, anyway - this is subject to change depending on where she happens to be working), and extremely curvy. Samantha has never been rail thin like other girls, and nor is she any kind of supermodel. Her features are strong and angled, and while not a beautiful woman by normal standards, Samantha has an exotic look that tends to draw people in despite unusual features. Her hips are wide and her legs are shapely, and there’s generally a set of tinted glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. The combination of her English mother and Spanish/Italian father caused a wide array of unusual characteristics from her tanned skin that burns so easily to her expressive dark, Italian eyes and full lips.
PB is Anastacia.
7. Abilities: She’s a talented linguist; languages and ancient history are one of her specialties and she’s sharp as a tack. She has no supernatural abilities, though she has had a recent string of bad luck that is attributed to the idol she had recently come into contact with. Not one to believe in curses, Samantha naturally wrote it off. Great idea, Sam.
She’s also fairly computer savvy, and has little trouble dealing with electronics and things of that nature.
8. Languages: > English (common), Russian, Arabic, Ancient/Modern Greek, Latin, Spanish and Italian (thanks, Dad!), Sanskrit, Egyptian/Hieroglyphics, (basically any ancient language from the past 2000 years. Sam’s a Linguistic Archaeologist, and is fluent in many ollld dialects and languages).
9. Items: A small gold idol a la Indiana Jones that carries a curse 8D ALSO, a back pack that contains some basic supplies (twine, pens, pencils, graphing paper, clip board, water bottle, large hat, bandanna, etc).
10. Weapons: A pocketknife she managed to get on the plane.
11. Writing sample 3rd Person -
It's not the first time Samantha has been to Cairo. It’s a city teeming with life almost twenty-four hours a day - filled to the brim with people, traffic and animals. Old men sit in cafes playing backgammon and smoking hookahs, taxi drivers slam on their horns as they wage war with fruit carts for the right of way in the streets. The traffic was never predictable, she remembered - it was either a parking lot or moving so fast a person ended up with whiplash. If you were a pedestrian, you better watch your step lest you wind up a pancake, and God forbid you actually obeyed traffic signals.
If you could even find any.
Despite the risks involved, Samantha usually tried to walk while in Cairo - though the city was so big sometimes that was impossible. Even now, she shouted out a curse in Arabic as she was nearly mowed down by a stray donkey cart. The city is a cacophony of horns, laughter, Arabic music, and voices. The noise mingles with the smell of the place, and smoke from the occasional hookah, spices, fruit, and traffic fumes all slam into Samantha in an amalgamation of senses.
She remembers how much she loves Cairo.
It's a city so densely populated with such variety that it’s delicious chaos - a sprawling bedlam where different worlds, cultures, and times collide. The last remaining Ancient Wonder of the World backs right up to the edge of the city and hovers like a loving parent watching over her sleeping child and causes a startling clash of time periods where old sidles right up next to modern as if they belong there together. And, slicing its way through all of it, cutting into mess of city life without concern five times daily is the ethereal sounding Call to Prayer.
Yes, it's a city she loves, but she has to wonder...
Why were they here again? She’s no stranger to impulsive decision making, but even she had to admit this was a bit extreme. They’d left everything in Peru - their luggage, clothes, most of their tools, the temple was unguarded, and they still hadn’t had a chance to contact the WAS.
"Clayton. Clayton, slow down," she snapped, reached to snatch his arm on the sidewalk and jerk him to a halt, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the people pushing past. "You said this was the place to go, there were someone here that can help us. So, where is he?"
The grin on his face is infuriating, and she can feel her blood starting to boil. "I swear to God Clayton, if this is some kind of bloody joke you're trying to pull, I'm going to kill you."
"Relax, darling. It's not a damn joke, alright?" He casually slings an arm around her shoulders, which she immediately shoves off, adjusting her pack.
"Then you had better damn well deliver right now, or I'm going to the Mena and flying out first thing in the morning. I cannot believe you drug me across the bloody ocean for this, I-" She's silenced by a finger on her lips, and Clayton very nearly earns himself a punch when he jerks her into a nearby alley and slams her against a wall, covering her mouth with his hand.
“Shh.” He tone conveyed urgency, and she fought him for a few seconds her head started to spin with the force of the impact against the wall. Fortunately, it stunned her into the silence Clayton was hoping for. He did so hate to resort to violence, but… She was so feisty he didn’t know how else to shut the bloody woman up.
"We've got company, darling."
12. Writing sample - First person
Where the bloody hell am I?
[The voice comes across the journals in a snarl - this wasn’t Cairo, this wasn’t Egyptian Airlines flight 473, and it damn sure wasn’t a tiny, filthy, airplane bathroom.
You can be damn sure she read the note, but it doesn’t make any sense.]
Worlds ending, turning into oblivion, medieval Keeps? Is someone fucking with me?
[…Pause.]
Have I been kidnapped again? Alejandro!? [Her voice echoes down the hall - nope…he’s not here.] Clayton - Clayton, I swear to God if this is your idea of a joke I’m going to bloody kill you.
[Just breath, Samantha.]
If there is anyone of any intelligence out there - [highly doubtful] - I’d like to know if you’ve seen, heard from, or know of a Clayton Hughes. [Because this is his fault and she’s going to kill him.]
…
Please.
13. Tattoo: On her right shoulderblade
14. Room Preference: Nah
Age: Over 21
Journal: travelistaa
Contact: aim: travelistaa
1. Character's Name: Samantha James
2. Age: 33
3. Background:
Samantha was an ordinary British citizen born to an English mother and an Italian/Spanish father. She went through life like normal, going to grade school and finishing out high school top of her class. She attended Oxford University, double majoring in Anthropology (specializing in two sub-categories of anthropology: archaeology and linguistics) and Sociology, and eventually attended the university’s graduate/doctorate program in the School of Archaeology. She flew through the program with ease and attained her doctorate degree at the young age of 28, much to the surprise (and aggravation) of her peers. Throughout college, Samantha had little competition in her classes and gaining her professors favor - being someone who usually managed to edge out anyone else who came close, Samantha enjoyed a lot of privileges most students didn’t (such as unlimited access to labs, access to one on one study on the field, school funded archaeological trips/field schools to many places other students were not allowed). This was, of course, a great way to make enemies in the field and among your colleagues, and Samantha had few friends that weren’t professors. Her attitude was simple - if you weren’t as smart as her, she had little use for your input, or your help. Upon graduation and completion of her doctorate, Samantha was immediately placed on one of the largest archaeological excavation teams of the century, traveling the world to work on digs in Turkey, Egypt, Greece, Crete, Cambodia, and many other places.
There is always one that manages to make one’s life difficult, however, and that one for Samantha was Clayton Hughes. A biological anthropologist, Clayton Hughes was Samantha’s main competition at Oxford, constantly on her heels and giving her a run for her money in the schmoozing department. The hatred ran deep and even went so far as to deliberately sabotaging each others work in discreet, manipulative ways. The right slip of the word to the right professor, and Samantha or Clayton was immediately off the team, leaving the door open for the other to step smugly in. There were occasions when the two did work together, and when they actually managed to put their bickering and arguments aside, they functioned fantastically as a team.
Unfortunately, those cases were few and far between, and when Samantha was kicked off the team for a dig in Tel Bet Yerah (Khirbet Kerak), World War 3 was officially declared between the two.
There was extensive field work involved with her schooling - and after experiencing several instances of severe culture shock, Sam eventually adapted and managed to blend in wherever she traveled. Be it through dressing similarly to the locals or even going so far as to dye or bleach her hair, Samantha worked hard to fit in so that she was able to observe cultures and individuals hard at work in their own environment, uninterrupted. Each site and location she worked at, Samantha was able to distinguish herself to the local people and become a trusted liaison, especially when her teammates can’t speak the language.
Eventually paired with Clayton, Samantha began work in a remote territory in South America, in the very heart of the jungle. Contact with family and friends back in England were scarce, and far more abundant were the presence of snakes, mosquitoes, and several very large bugs that Samantha unfortunately had become intimately familiar with.
The original plan had been simple - navigate and excavate a recently discovered Incan temple in Peru. It was something they had experience in; Samantha and Clayton had both done many similar digs like this. The unfortunate part about the temple was that while Samantha and Clayton had absolute faith they would find something, the World Archaeological Society (WAS) had seen far too much money wasted on similar excavations only to find nothing but dusty emptiness and no finds. If Samantha and Clayton wanted to pursue this, they would have to fund the expedition themselves completely. Frustrated with the lack of faith the WAS had in the two renowned archaeologists, Sam and Clayton decided to throw caution to the wind, attempt to put differences aside (HA), and work together (HA HA) to get the money together in order to fund the excavation. It was a bit of a hassle and it took longer than necessary to accumulate the money and tools necessary for such a dig, though eventually, everything was accounted for, and after Samantha’s spat with customs (and security - and near detainment) in the international airport about why she needed to bring what looked like a miniature pickaxe and spade on board the plane (“They’re expensive and I don’t trust you people to keep your grubby paws off them-!”) they were comfortably seated on board, Samantha quiet as she sat steaming next to Clayton (who wore a very smug expression indeed).
On arrival in Peru, everything that could have went wrong, did. Samantha’s luggage had been lost (“I told you they’d steal my stuff!), Clayton’s passport was stolen, hotel reservations hadn’t been made (“You told me you were going to do it!” “No, Samantha, you were supposed to do it.”), most of the team they had planned on bringing backed out and didn’t show (“what, did you forget to call them, Clayton?”), the taxi was a stinking mess, and a giant spider had crawled onto Clayton’s hand in the parking lot of the only ‘hotel’ available (which had caused an uproar of uncharacteristically girlish screaming and flailing, which in turn caused Samantha to un-shoe her foot and proceed to whack Clayton senseless with said shoe. Said hotel was in (and nearby meaning a good 50 mile trek with a beat up Land Rover) the site, in a Peruvian village that provided a good base camp for the duo. The lodging was a bare bones inn with a cantina attached to the back. The place had no air conditioning, limited electricity, and an outhouse. Not unfamiliar with this sort of thing, Samantha managed to fit in spectacularly, and particularly enjoyed conversing with the locals in front of Clayton, who hadn’t a clue as to what was being said. After several shouting matches in the hallways (“You paid them to take my suitcase, didn’t you! Trying to sabatoge me!” “I did not, that’s just you’re paranoia kicking in, darling-“ “Don’t you dare call me darling!” “Oh, sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to call you darling, darling”), they were eventually placed at opposite ends of the hotel.
Despite their hang-ups, work began immediately at dawn the next day; gathering together a ragtag group of locals to help with some of the more menial things - setting up camp for the day at the site, cooking lunch, sorting through found artifacts - they made their way into the heart of the jungle towards the temple. Samantha and Clayton had miraculously come to an agreement that while the locals would be extremely helpful in said tasks, they weren’t trained for the more delicate work that archaeology sometimes required. That left the two to do most of the hardest and meticulous tasks themselves (which accounted for some extremely long days). It went like this for several weeks, Samantha and Clayton getting up before dawn and arriving back at their rooms long after the sun set (and one evening Samantha returned to her luggage sitting in her room, a huge relief). On a normal basis, they were far too exhausted (and too busy bickering) to pay much attention to the fact that they were being followed.
Eventually, as the two were hoping, a discovery was made. One day, while the sun was shining high and burning down on their hatted heads, the humidity was causing sweat to roll off their faces and trickle down their backs, and they were bent and hunched as they carefully and gently brushed dirt away from rock when Samantha’s fingers brushed against something. With an excited noise she had called Clayton over, motioning excitedly to the small opening that had lain buried beneath dirt and stone for thousands of years. The team was called over, and with the help of the locals and the two archaeologists, the small crack in the ground eventually gave way to a man sized hole that opened to a cool blackness that contrasted with the heat of the day. Determining that someone would have to go in, Samantha and Clayton proceeded to argue heatedly over just who that might be, ultimately deciding that both would go.
Then they argued about who would be lowered first.
Samantha eventually won out, and she was slowly lowered into the gaping hole armed with a lantern, her pack, and her trusty handgun (not like she’d need it, right? But one can never be too careful when slipping into an unknown hole). Once her booted feet hit the ground, she didn’t bother waiting for Clayton. She had crept forward, intending on exploring with or without him. Once she managed to get the lantern to work, the sight before her took her breath away. There were golds and riches that one couldn’t even possibly fathom, and the temple opened into an expansive cavern filled with ancient relics. Samantha hadn’t even heard Clayton come up behind her, she had been so enthralled. Deciding that this discovery was best kept a secret until they could figure out how to safely excavate without the threat of looting, the two stuck a deal right there in the caverns. They’d each take a relic and stow it away in their belongings in order to prove to the Archaeological Society that there was, in fact, something worth sending an entire team out to excavate. Both wanted credit for the find, so Samantha knew it would be a race to the Society’s office once they were back up, but there was something far more important than that right now, and that was protecting the find. If the locals found out that this treasure lie right beneath their feet, word would spread, and before Samantha and Clayton would be able to do anything about it, the place would be looted dry. So, Samantha selecting a small idol and Clayton picking an ornamental dagger, they stuffed the small relics into their packs, and headed back to the pulley system they had set up to get down there in the first place. Giving a tug and a holler, they were hoisted back up. Keeping it quiet, they two told the discouraged team that instead of gold and treasure, there was nothing but dirt, bugs, and dangerous caverns in the broken down temple. Work would have to cease for the moment, until the WAS could come and inspect, and the hole was resealed.
So, that night, Samantha and Clayton celebrated. It was a Friday evening in the village, and the cantina in the back of their hotel was completely packed with locals. The owners tended to be more lenient with the electricity on nights like this, so the multi-colored strands decorating the outdoor bar lit the way for a night of certain drunken debauchery. There came the inevitable shots of various alcohols (tequila included) and a lot of dancing, along with the fantastic sex that generally follows such evenings (UST RESOLVED). The next morning, Samantha woke in Clayton’s room with a banging headache, clothes-less, and alone. She had wrapped the sheet around her, padded down the hall to her room, snapping at anyone who dared look at her, slammed her door shut, only to find her room pillaged as if someone had been rooting for something very important. Stunned, she had dropped her sheet and started furiously searching for her idol, which, naturally, was gone. This was when Clayton had tapped on her cracked door, gave the naked Samantha an amused look, chewed his biscuit, and asked her what the bloody hell she was doing - though the amusement wore off pretty fast when he saw the state of her room.
Naturally, Samantha blamed Clayton for the theft, and an argument ensued and ended in Samantha’s door being slammed (again) and Clayton stomping off down the hall (“It was you, wasn’t it? You’re trying to sabotage me!” “In case you hadn’t noticed, darling, I was with you all night.” “Then where were you this morning?” “Getting you coffee, you impossible little twit.”) Samantha had dressed quickly, then moved around her room in order to continue her frantic search for the missing idol. Discovering that it was indeed still missing, Samantha was determined to find the culprit and get it back. It would take some doing though - there was no telling how long it had been missing or when it was stolen. She had cursed herself for leaving it unattended, and she felt sure that Clayton had taken it at some point. He’d had ample opportunity. Dressing quickly, she decided to pillage his room, while he was out.
So, armed with her pack and tools, she had gone back down the hall some time later, making certain that he was, in fact, out before slipping into his room. She never saw the blow to the back of her head coming.
When she woke up, it was dark, humid, and the burlap bag over her head smelled like shit. She had, of course, demanded in the sweetest possible way for it to be taken off, and an explanation as to what this nonsense was all about to be given. The bag had been unceremoniously ripped off of her head, and in front of her stood the famous (and infamous, oho) black market antiquities dealer in the South Americas. No one knew his real name, he only went by Alejandro, and he was renowned for his ‘transactions’, his methods, and never getting caught. There is, of course, a lot of back and forth arguing here, Samantha demanding her idol back, Alejandro laughing and telling her no, she wasn’t getting that terribly valuable idol back. Eventually, Clayton shows up having followed them (he had seen Samantha slip into his room, but had been unable to help, considering there had been four men in there). In a rare display of heroism, he managed to sling Samantha over his shoulder, snag her idol, and bean Alejandro in the head all in the same fell swoop. (It did not, of course, go smoothly; he had several bruised ribs from Samantha’s poorly aimed kicks, a knot on his head from getting punched by Alejandro, and a broken toe from one of the henchmen). Tossing Samantha unceremoniously into the Land Rover he’d brought, they had sped off and were, of course, followed. The ensuing car chase had a lot to do with Samantha screaming and demanding to be untied, bumpy roads, Clayton shouting at Samantha to SHUT UP, and gunshots. Unable to shake their tail, they had eventually (and accidentally) driven straight through the gates of a local drug lord’s estate.
Yep, you read that right.
Alejandro and company decided following them into that particular hornet’s nest wouldn’t be prudent at this point in time, and they finally backed off. Samantha and Clayton, however, had found themselves in the middle of a courtyard with a flat tire, possibly a bruised rib or two, and somewhere along the lines of twenty machine guns pointed at them. After some hurried explanations from Samantha, they were led through the grand home to the pool, where the owner was lounging lazily, entirely unconcerned by the ruckus that they had caused. After explaining again, the drug lord had laughed himself silly, then offered them the place to stay for the night, on the condition they GTFO in the morning, and take their land rover with them. In return for his generosity, he asked for only one thing. Since there was obviously some reason they were being chased and said drug lord was not STUPID, he demanded to know why, and, seeing right through Clayton’s feeble lie, the drug lord turned to Samantha, aimed a pistol at Clayton, and asked her one more time, nicely, wtf was going on. Reluctantly, Samantha explained that her idol had been stolen and she had been kidnapped, and they had just gotten it back and were being chased for it. She left the treasure part out, and her story seemed to satisfy the drug lord. Naturally, he demanded the idol, but not wanting to see Samantha fly off into a fit of rage, Clayton instead bargained with him, offering instead his dagger. The drug lord wasn’t one to be too greedy, so he accepted Clayton’s offer and took the dagger and then led an astonished looking Samantha and Clayton to be locked into their room for the night.
Things never go as planned, of course, and while the drug lord hadn’t seemed terribly greedy (he had, after all, everything he could possibly want), he was, in fact, a terribly greedy man. Sneaking into Samantha and Clayton’s room in the dead of the night, he attempted to murder them both in order to take Samantha’s idol. Clayton had expected this, and hadn’t fallen asleep. Samantha had been exhausted after the ordeal and had fallen facefirst into the pillowy bed, while Clayton sat watch in a corner near the door. He’d watched the drug lord come in and raise a knife to murder Sam, and had promptly conked him in the back of the head with a chair leg, effectively knocking him into an unconscious heap on top of Samantha. That hadn’t been one of Clayton’s wiser moves, and Samantha had woken with a shriek, and from there they had had to make a daring escape from the window of their second floor room into the courtyard.
It had been Samantha’s suggestion to steal one of the lord’s cars, they were already in to deep to get out now, so why not jack one of his Ferraris? She’d shoved him into the passenger side, frantically managed to hotwire it, then slammed the car through the garage door (couldn’t find the opener, oops). Samantha’s first instinct was to get to the airport and hop a flight back to England, but Clayton had a far better suggestion.
He wanted to go to Egypt. Because he ‘knew a guy’. Nothing about that could possibly go wrong, at all so after a lot of arguing and shouting in that little red Ferrari, they boarded a flight to Cairo.
Same is pulled from in the middle of this flight, when she got up to go to the bathroom, taking her belongings with her because she doesn’t trust Clayton.
4. Personality: There are a few key words to note about Ms. James in regards to her personality. She’s short tempered, moody, self-involved, impulsive, impatient, vain (in regards to her work), and brilliant. Samantha knows she’s smart, smarter than you, in fact - and has no problem voicing that or showing it to you, either. She hates to be proved wrong, and will scratch and claw to find any scrap of information, some minute detail that defies all other logic and proves you to be incorrect. Her decisions are sometimes made rashly with little regard to the consequences, and while sometimes this doesn’t work out, the vast majority of the time she’s right - and that’s what drives most people crazy. She’s independent, and doesn’t particularly like having to rely on anyone else for anything. She lives alone and pays her own bills and would rather starve for a week than ask her parents or someone else for help of any kind. She’s a go-getter, and isn’t afraid to reach out and snatch what she thinks should be hers for the taking. She doesn’t accept anything less than perfection in her life and her relationships, and if she doesn’t consider someone up to par for the task at hand, be it on a dig, in the lab, or in life in general - she is quick to write someone off as incompetent or ignorant.
Despite her flaws however, Samantha can have a magnetic personality - her enthusiasm and passion for her work tends to make people gravitate towards her despite her rough edges and demanding nature. She’s compelling in the sense that she gets things done no matter the consequences, and has an unbridled love for all things ancient and old, be it language, artifacts, or a culture. She’s hard to work with, and at times is bad-tempered and catty, but she shows an immeasurable amount of respect and awe at all things archaeological. Her soft side shows when she’s absorbed in a find, delicately brushing away specks of sand from a two thousand year old piece of bone, or carefully extracting a vase fragment from a tomb that has been in situ longer than modernized Christianity.
She’s the type of woman that can survive even the toughest of circumstances alone (AKA waking up in the middle of the night to find you are not alone in your tent and your company is NOT the handsome Brazilian you met at the cantina but instead a hungry Jaguar staring you down - she started carrying a gun after that) and has the ability to come back even after the most hellish situations. In contrast to this tough exterior, Samantha is also able to play the role of a female perfectly if need be. Donning a little black dress and some heels, Samantha manages to pull herself together quite well, despite not really being what society would consider beautiful.
5. Previous Game Developments: N/a
6. Appearance: Standing at 5’10”, Samantha is tall and blonde (sometimes, anyway - this is subject to change depending on where she happens to be working), and extremely curvy. Samantha has never been rail thin like other girls, and nor is she any kind of supermodel. Her features are strong and angled, and while not a beautiful woman by normal standards, Samantha has an exotic look that tends to draw people in despite unusual features. Her hips are wide and her legs are shapely, and there’s generally a set of tinted glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. The combination of her English mother and Spanish/Italian father caused a wide array of unusual characteristics from her tanned skin that burns so easily to her expressive dark, Italian eyes and full lips.
PB is Anastacia.
7. Abilities: She’s a talented linguist; languages and ancient history are one of her specialties and she’s sharp as a tack. She has no supernatural abilities, though she has had a recent string of bad luck that is attributed to the idol she had recently come into contact with. Not one to believe in curses, Samantha naturally wrote it off. Great idea, Sam.
She’s also fairly computer savvy, and has little trouble dealing with electronics and things of that nature.
8. Languages: > English (common), Russian, Arabic, Ancient/Modern Greek, Latin, Spanish and Italian (thanks, Dad!), Sanskrit, Egyptian/Hieroglyphics, (basically any ancient language from the past 2000 years. Sam’s a Linguistic Archaeologist, and is fluent in many ollld dialects and languages).
9. Items: A small gold idol a la Indiana Jones that carries a curse 8D ALSO, a back pack that contains some basic supplies (twine, pens, pencils, graphing paper, clip board, water bottle, large hat, bandanna, etc).
10. Weapons: A pocketknife she managed to get on the plane.
11. Writing sample 3rd Person -
It's not the first time Samantha has been to Cairo. It’s a city teeming with life almost twenty-four hours a day - filled to the brim with people, traffic and animals. Old men sit in cafes playing backgammon and smoking hookahs, taxi drivers slam on their horns as they wage war with fruit carts for the right of way in the streets. The traffic was never predictable, she remembered - it was either a parking lot or moving so fast a person ended up with whiplash. If you were a pedestrian, you better watch your step lest you wind up a pancake, and God forbid you actually obeyed traffic signals.
If you could even find any.
Despite the risks involved, Samantha usually tried to walk while in Cairo - though the city was so big sometimes that was impossible. Even now, she shouted out a curse in Arabic as she was nearly mowed down by a stray donkey cart. The city is a cacophony of horns, laughter, Arabic music, and voices. The noise mingles with the smell of the place, and smoke from the occasional hookah, spices, fruit, and traffic fumes all slam into Samantha in an amalgamation of senses.
She remembers how much she loves Cairo.
It's a city so densely populated with such variety that it’s delicious chaos - a sprawling bedlam where different worlds, cultures, and times collide. The last remaining Ancient Wonder of the World backs right up to the edge of the city and hovers like a loving parent watching over her sleeping child and causes a startling clash of time periods where old sidles right up next to modern as if they belong there together. And, slicing its way through all of it, cutting into mess of city life without concern five times daily is the ethereal sounding Call to Prayer.
Yes, it's a city she loves, but she has to wonder...
Why were they here again? She’s no stranger to impulsive decision making, but even she had to admit this was a bit extreme. They’d left everything in Peru - their luggage, clothes, most of their tools, the temple was unguarded, and they still hadn’t had a chance to contact the WAS.
"Clayton. Clayton, slow down," she snapped, reached to snatch his arm on the sidewalk and jerk him to a halt, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the people pushing past. "You said this was the place to go, there were someone here that can help us. So, where is he?"
The grin on his face is infuriating, and she can feel her blood starting to boil. "I swear to God Clayton, if this is some kind of bloody joke you're trying to pull, I'm going to kill you."
"Relax, darling. It's not a damn joke, alright?" He casually slings an arm around her shoulders, which she immediately shoves off, adjusting her pack.
"Then you had better damn well deliver right now, or I'm going to the Mena and flying out first thing in the morning. I cannot believe you drug me across the bloody ocean for this, I-" She's silenced by a finger on her lips, and Clayton very nearly earns himself a punch when he jerks her into a nearby alley and slams her against a wall, covering her mouth with his hand.
“Shh.” He tone conveyed urgency, and she fought him for a few seconds her head started to spin with the force of the impact against the wall. Fortunately, it stunned her into the silence Clayton was hoping for. He did so hate to resort to violence, but… She was so feisty he didn’t know how else to shut the bloody woman up.
"We've got company, darling."
12. Writing sample - First person
Where the bloody hell am I?
[The voice comes across the journals in a snarl - this wasn’t Cairo, this wasn’t Egyptian Airlines flight 473, and it damn sure wasn’t a tiny, filthy, airplane bathroom.
You can be damn sure she read the note, but it doesn’t make any sense.]
Worlds ending, turning into oblivion, medieval Keeps? Is someone fucking with me?
[…Pause.]
Have I been kidnapped again? Alejandro!? [Her voice echoes down the hall - nope…he’s not here.] Clayton - Clayton, I swear to God if this is your idea of a joke I’m going to bloody kill you.
[Just breath, Samantha.]
If there is anyone of any intelligence out there - [highly doubtful] - I’d like to know if you’ve seen, heard from, or know of a Clayton Hughes. [Because this is his fault and she’s going to kill him.]
…
Please.
13. Tattoo: On her right shoulderblade
14. Room Preference: Nah