Liu Yin

An old Chinese woman who keeps a small homestead somewhere in the mountains, Yin is known to be kind of rude, make bad jokes, and freely share her food, booze, and cigarettes with anyone she can stand for more than five minutes.

Age: ~275 (65 when the bombs fell)

Height: 5' 2"/157 cm

Weight: 110 lbs/49 kg

Hair: Black/graying

Eyes: Left is brown, right is cloudy

Strengths: Sharp-witted, tough, deadly with a shotgun, patient (particularly with kids), good hearing (even though she sometimes pretends otherwise)

Weaknesses: Blind in right eye, suspicious of strangers, gets cold easily, tires quickly, makes bad jokes

## Before the War

Yin made her living as a freelance photographer, and worked often for magazines and documentaries. Her husband, a fervent soldier, was killed years before during a training exercise. After her son, Chun, moved to the United States, she focused even more intently on her work--and with war on the horizon, there were plenty of articles (and the occasional propaganda) in need of good photos. It was while working on one such article--this one about the value of international relations, a bold piece indeed--that she found herself aboard one of the last planes to go overseas. She would be staying with Chun and his wife, Lola, while documenting day-to-day life, monuments, trees, et cetera. She did her job, and in the process made fast friends with her teenage granddaughter, Jiang, who was in love with life and guns and--this she told her grandmother in private, swearing her to secrecy--the dark-eyed girl next door. Yin took more than a few photos of Jiang, too, some of which she has to this day.

When a group of anti-Chinese protesters showed up on the doorstep one day, Chun tried to explain to them that he and his family were American, too, but their fear and anger drove the protesters into a frenzy, during which Lola was killed and Chun dragged away. Yin and Jiang managed to escape, but that was the end of the peace at which they'd been grasping.

They ran until they couldn't run anymore, and then they hid while the world rushed horribly by. They learned, after their meager supplies ran out, how to live on wild plants and identify hostile people at a distance. They made themselves tiny, hidden shelters and stole winter clothes when the cold blew in. They were okay, almost.

But then the bombs fell.

And they learned how to defend themselves against the people who would become the first of the raiders. And they ran until they couldn't run anymore. And Jiang died of radiation poisoning, small and sad and almost fifteen. And Yin waited to die, too, but became a ghoul instead.

## After the War

Modern day, Yin can be found in the mountains, somewhere near the Canadian border. Having never picked up a map while running for her life, she isn't entirely sure. But the occasional traders, tourists, and pains-in-the-neck who wander in tell her as much.

She may come off as harsh, rude, or impatient, but she's not unkind, being more than willing to feed anyone who finds themself lost in the mountains. She doesn't seem entirely opposed to company, either, and some people will swear she can even be downright friendly if the circumstances are right.

She is, as she has always been, self-reliant, and she grows all the food she needs (plus some) herself. She has little need of caps, but will usually welcome trade of warm clothes and vices. Her most important worldly possessions are Jiang's very old, heavily modified shotgun, and her own original camera. She has a few other cameras, and is sometimes willing to take photos for people or even part with a camera here and there, if the price is right, but never that one. Don't touch it, and don't talk about it unless she's had a few drinks and is the one to bring it up.

She's heard that there are other people like her--"ghouls"--and that some of them have set up entire settlements for themselves. She thinks that's nice, and wishes them all the best, but has no desire to join them. Her desires these days can mostly be simplified to "warm" and "alone".

### Extra

Her cooking is...edible, though her complete lack of taste and status as a Practical Person means there's never any flourish or seasoning.

She got her scar (and lost vision in her right eye) during a fight with a handful of raiders who came upon her a few weeks after the bombs fell. She told them that she'd just buried her granddaughter, and it would be wrong to kill them, so just that once she'd let them off. They laughed in her face. Their pyre kept her warm the rest of the night.

She used to be quite fashionable, though now most of her clothes are either from scavengers or two hundred years out of style.

(Created by Sarsaparillasunset/overtaken-by-undertale)