Character Name: Vivian ‘Viv’ Milakova
Classifications: Vampire: The Requiem, Nosferatu [Purified]
Known Background:
Of all the grotesque monsters that crawl around in the night in the Chronicles of Darkness, nothing can quite compare to the horror and brutality of the Human Resources Department at Mercy Hospital. Clean, quick and merciless, those who have had the distinct pleasure of meeting the management of the department are never heard from again…at work that is. However, only the most heinous acts would ever be escalated to their position.
Enter Vivian Milakova. Front desk administrator of the Mercy Hospital Pathology Department. Third meeting this week. Having an incredibly bad hair day. She sat down across the table from two portly gentlemen with very stern and cross faces.
Vivian, or Viv for short, was well talked about the office. By ‘well talked about’, we’re not stating ‘well’ talked about, but rather ‘not well’ talked about ‘often’. It was incredibly hard not to notice her – tall, red hair, green eyes, Russian accent and a hotheaded attitude to match. Can confirm four dots in Striking Looks. It didn’t take long for these choice words to make their way into the HR office. Among the complaints were as follows:
“Viv relabeled my patient’s first name on their blood test to Hugh because she thought Hugh Jass sounded funny enough to risk their life over.”
“I can’t call the Pathology Department anymore. She saved my number and harassed me for an entire week because my name is Dr. Richard Filthy and the caller ID came up as Dr. Filthy, Rich.”
“I didn’t go to medical school for eight years for some stupid socialite to tell me everyday that the reason I’m in the back and she’s in the front is because they don’t put pretty girls in the back. She sometimes calls the back of the lab from a claimed ‘blocked’ number and asks me if I’m running any tests on my face because I look like death. IT’S NOT BLOCKED IF YOUR CALLING FROM YOUR DESK PHONE. I SEE YOU DOING IT. EIGHT YEARS.”
But, in the end, was this really all Viv’s fault?
Yeah. Yeah it was.
Glancing down at her files for the third time this week, the two gentlemen again reviewed her qualifications for the position. Vivian began to sweat bullets thinking that maybe this time she had finally been bit hard. Today, she was convinced, would be one of the worst days of her life.
As Viv zoned out of the two men talking to her, she began thinking about home. Not home here, but ‘home’ home back in Russia. Why did she even bother coming here? Before she left to America, her parents had told her something secret that deeply affected her: she had a sister; a twin sister separated at birth. The reasoning as to why they never divulged the information before is out of sheer guilt and embarrassment. Her family was tremendously poor and could only barely sustain one child, let alone two. So, they put her up for adoption and chose Vivian as the one to stay with them. This was nearly twenty-eight years ago, and although they had lost contact with her adopter, they did know that they had moved from Russia to America.
“Ms. Milakova”, one of the portly men stated, Viv’s head snapping up into attention, “I regret to inform you that after your incredible misconduct, you are officially terminated as of this time. Please exit the premises at once.”
Boom. Roasted. Worst day confirmed. As Viv slowly slinked out of the room pouting, she steadily gave them the middle finger as she walked out. She then started her car and made her way to the nearest place to blow off some steam: the local mall.
And this is where our Chronicle begins.