Lathalia Cameron

Name:
Lathalia 'Latha' Cameron

Age:
24

Occupation:
U.S. Marshal

Status:
Single

Personality:
Lathalia Cameron is cold, snarky, antisocial, and self-destructive-- in other words, a freaking ray of sunshine. Loving the dangerous and the strange, she embraces her life as a US Marshal, sworn to protect those who hide in plain sight, something she'd adore doing herself. A former member of the CPD's Special Victims Unit, she knows how to handle a gun, and her service Glock is one of the few things she cares for.
Corrupted by the 'cruelty of the world' and a victim of PTSD, she hates most of the population and prefers the cliche of getting herself drunk to actual social interaction. Quite the devoted civil servant, beating the crap out of some unfortunate perp is her favorite form of entertainment and she would love to be on permanent overtime. Hell, she'd even take it unpaid.
Although no one would dare call her charming, the young woman has a habit of attracting people to her. She has become immune to most emotion--to her, she is unable to "feel" properly--but her blunt demeanor does have a few redeeming qualities. Or something like that, considering there are actually a few people that don't hate her. People seem to want to "fix" her, which she laughs off with an eyeroll. With little regard for anyone, she prefers controversy to conformity, needing nothing and no one. Anxious, Lathalia hates being touched, but she has her reasons to act like she does.
Lathalia's undoing is alcohol, and she turns to it--and harder drugs--at every possible moment. Struggling with alcoholism and a possible heroin addiction has probably made her problems worse. She, however, chooses to ignore that fact, like most things that goes wrong in her life. One thing is certain, she really doesn't give damn about herself.

History:
Lathalia came from Chicago's Back of the Yards, her mother fiercely independant and her father... well, at the very least, absent. Raised from birth with a screw-you attitude, Lathalia learned young that she had to take care of herself and the small apartment she lived in. Her mother was an overworked EMT who struggled with her own drug issues, so street smarts and feminism became the only things Lathalia had to go on. Life pretty much sucked, but it worked for her.
Even she didn't expect to be brutally raped at thirteen.
It left her with scars traveling up her arms and emotional ones no one knew about. It took away her will to live, and yet instilled her with a will to survive. It killed her sense of innocence and left her disillusioned and destructive. And it started her paranoia, created a void that she didn't know how to repair, altered her, corrupted her.
Withdrawn and angry, she had her first taste of the life under the pill and the razorblade. She was addicted from the start-- Oxycodone, Vicodin, Morphine. She started to carry mace before she went into high school, eventually progressing to more dangerous (and more illegal) weapons. It created an obsession with death and redemption, but also brought out a need to survive. Lathalia became convinced that everyone was out to murder her, but at the same time, she wasn't going to be controlled by anyone. Fear played a strange role in Lathalia's life.
Somehow, she manage to graduate with a good G.P.A., majoring in criminal justice, ignoring the attention of most of the male recruits in the police academy-- unless she was punching them in the face. She became notorious for her cold shoulder and deadpan comments. She rose quickly through the ranks in the Chicago Police Department, securing herself a position so close to what she feared in the Special Victims Unit. It was the perfect life for her, despite close contact with her partner and fellow detectives, and she wasn't sure how she got caught up working in witness protection. Assuming the Department found an excuse to transfer her--she was a bit of a liability in her precinct, taking interrogation a little too far more than once--they pulled her out of her comfort zone at twenty-two and deposited her in a new life playing with witnesses and babysitting the ones that didn't have a freaking clue how to survive. All part of the job.
It took her a long time to adjust. She moved to New York City to be closer to the East Coast, finding a small apartment in the Village. Lived day-to-day. She made herself some "friends", got caught in some rather ugly situations, and eventually became absorbed in the city. It fueled her risktaking and made her strangely content. A nervous breakdown or two caused her trouble in the field and out, and she turned to alcohol for relief. It's a strange equilibrium she's found between her almost illegal lifestyle and her work for the government, and despite Novak's insistence, she isn't changing anytime soon.

Getting clean? No way in hell.