Application
Name: "Georgia Hamilton. Sadly related to the Old Cyclops himself."
Position: "And I'm the Mayor of Washington D.C."
Age: "I'm 41."
Appearance: "I'm just over six foot, not particularly well-built but I'm no stick either. Piercing grey eyes, a mane of brown hair down my back. I do my best to look after it, but I'm a busy person, so it doesn't get as much attention as it probably deserves. No scars, no tattoos. People always like to say I resemble Dad, it drives me mad, and sadly even I can see it when I look in the mirror closely enough. Same sharp cheekbones, same chin, same nose. Wouldn't say I look good, but that's irrelevant. I've never been vain like that."
First Impression: "I'm a firebrand. Give me a podium, a crowd, some information and I can rile them up into a frenzy. One of the newspapers, I fail to recall which exactly, described me as a 'barely restrained ball of anger.' I suppose it's an apt description of the image I portray of the populist leader of the masses."
Outward personality: "They'll call me angry. A demagogue, a firebrand, I know someone's called me a fanatic. But rhetoric and image are powerful weapons, if you know how to use them. I portray myself as the firebrand, because it's a useful image. Otherwise, those few who've ever seen me outside of the firebrand image call me quiet and bookish. In another time I might've been something of a philosopher, even, but America doesn't need someone that's just a philosopher right now."
Character history: "I was born in Richmond, Virginia. Dad wasn't who history will remember him as then, he was just a prosecutor, Mum... I don't remember what she did. Don't even remember her face. I just remember that she died to a terror attack by some long defunct domestic terror group. I never saw Dad much after that, I think, my memory's hazy. Instead I was raised by neighbors, babysitters, whoever was available until I was sent off to Maine and boarding school."
"Thanks for that, Dad, so wrapped up in yourself you shipped me off, too lazy to care for the last thing that Mum had left you. But Maine... That was a new start, at least for me. I would sink or swim based on what I did, no one else mattered. Not even you. So I threw myself into my studies, I was never the most social as a kid, but I worked my ass off instead. Not for you, but for myself. I was going to make something of myself come hell or high water at that point."
"I think we tried to talk to each other still, but it was difficult. We didn't understand each other, not really, I think. We spoke but they never registered, and I went to college abroad. Partially to get away from you, you were director by then and I did not want to be going to any university in the US with that hanging over me. You should know how political students and universities can get, you probably crushed and subverted enough student movements in your time to put the FBI and CIA of the 1960s to shame."
"I went to Cambridge, England, and I studied PPE. Politics, Philosophy, Economics. The trinity of knowledge of how one successfully runs a political entity. It was... Different, in England. There was this strange optimism there, in the late '30s. It was freer, people could talk, people could criticise the government, there was an order to things there that I knew there wasn't back home. There were occasional terror cells busted, but no major terror organisations, no purges of the military or the federal departments or lower administrative divisions, our states, their constituent countries. There was nothing suppressed, so I read the classics, and I could freely comment about them and how they applied to the US without you looking over my shoulder. I made friends, lifelong friends who would come with me when I returned, I did a Masters there, then a PhD. I wanted to have a solid base, an intellectual grounding for when I returned home."
"England gave me the knowledge of what the soul of America had lost, and you gave me the drive to restore that, the only thing you ever gave me Dad, so... Thanks, I guess. I came back to the US in... Some time in the mid '40s, '47 I think. I knew what I wanted to do, I just needed to figure out how I could do it. I ran for the Council of the District of Columbia in '49, served for a whole decade, building up connections, making contacts, building my image. I became Mayor of D.C, opposing Melinda's nominee. I think she figured that since I was your daughter I wouldn't be too much of a problem, or something like that, but regardless the next step down the road was complete."
"I've been Mayor since '60, seven years of poking and prodding. I figured out that you could criticise, but you had to be careful; it was like facing a mechanical behemoth, you couldn't face it all down head on, but you could bite at it from the sides. So I used my position to criticise departments, members of the House and Senate. I staged rallies, not against the government, but in support of myself, or even in support of the government when it rarely did something good. It was a matter of getting people used to it, that and practice. I spread my people through the district's government, making sure that the State Defence Force that'd been created by the Mayor during the Constitutional Crisis to keep order was mine, the Chief of Police was mine. I had connections down to the grassroots organisations I'd created during my campaign for Mayor and for the District Council. I didn't trust Dad not to plant something on me, not since he'd placed the state over me so many times before, not with everything he'd done while I was abroad. Which brings me to today, I guess. Just another rainy DC day."
Describe the last time your character and Melinda Delcastillo spoke: "A few days ago, if I recall correctly. Nothing particularly important, it was a DC publicity stunt. We never met much, never talked much. I think she put up with me because I was a Hamilton."
