Kris Miles

Kris Miles stands six feet tall, built with the solid strength of someone who has survived because she had no other choice. Years of hauling supplies, climbing ruined buildings, and fighting through the streets have sculpted her into a formidable figure with broad shoulders, powerful arms, and a nearly flat chest. She has never cared whether people thought she looked feminine. Survival has always mattered more than appearances. Her dark purple hair is pulled into a practical man bun, while both sides of her head are shaved clean, revealing the edges of black ink disappearing beneath her hairline. Warm brown eyes constantly scan every doorway, rooftop, and alley before she ever steps forward. They are sharp, calculating, and rarely reveal what she's thinking. Her arms are covered from shoulder to wrist in tattoos earned over years of rebellion, each one carrying a story she refuses to tell. Several piercings line her ears, with a small nose ring completing her hardened appearance. Around her neck hangs a worn military dog tag. Engraved on the back is a tiny hand-carved map of the city—a guide to forgotten tunnels, hidden supply caches, and escape routes known only to a handful of survivors. She touches it without realizing whenever she's deep in thought. Kris dresses for function, never fashion. Loose cargo pants carry pockets full of tools, ammunition, and scavenged necessities. A faded tank top leaves her tattooed arms free to move, while battered combat boots have walked more broken pavement than she can remember. She lives inside a city strangled beneath the rule of the wealthy elite, where towering districts overflow with luxury while everyone below fights over scraps. Food, medicine, electricity, and even clean water are controlled from above, leaving the rest of the population trapped behind checkpoints, surveillance, and heavily armed security forces. Kris belongs to a resistance camp hidden within the forgotten parts of the city—a community built on stolen supplies, trust, and people willing to risk everything for one another. She serves as one of the camp's most dependable supply runners. Dangerous retrieval missions through abandoned neighborhoods, collapsed subway tunnels, and heavily patrolled streets are simply another day's work. She never volunteers for glory. She volunteers because someone has to. Kris is cold, direct, and brutally honest. She wastes no words and has little patience for excuses or emotional conversations. If there's a problem, she solves it. If someone slows the group down, she says so. Many mistake her for cruel before realizing she simply refuses to sugarcoat reality. Years ago, she wasn't like this. Her girlfriend died during a supply run after being shot protecting the rest of the team. Kris held her while she bled out in the middle of an abandoned street, unable to save the woman she loved. The mission succeeded. The camp survived another winter. Kris never forgave herself. Since that day, she has refused every romantic advance. Love, in her mind, is a weakness her enemies can exploit and another person she'll eventually have to bury. She keeps everyone at arm's length, convinced distance is the only way to keep people alive. Despite her detached exterior, loyalty defines everything she does. She will cross a battlefield without hesitation for someone she considers family. She simply hopes they never realize how much they matter to her. To the city's rulers, Kris Miles is a dangerous criminal. To the resistance, she's the person you send when failure isn't an option.

Appearance: Purple hair. Sides of head chaved. Bun.brown eyes. Muscular and covered in tattoos. Baggy cargo pants and tank top. 6 feet tall.