Name: Researcher ███████ Min
Clearance: Level 3
Description: Researcher Min is a lazy little fucker who won't compile his own personnel file, and instead forces innocent co-workers like myself to do it for him. He is a complete and utter disgrace to the Foundation and can go die in a fire. A FIRE LACED WITH SADNESS AND BLEEDING INFANTS.
Sorry, I didn't know you meant physical description. Okay. Geez. Researcher Min is shorter than most doorways in Site-72, but can't fit through the service corridor without bending over. Or losing weight for that matter. He's also kinda Asian but he's never elaborated so I don't even give a fuck.
History: Dude, I wasn't even here when you joined. Ow. Fuck you. You know what? You can compile the rest of this shitty file yourself. Fine. Go on. Be like that, then.
Researcher Min graduated from ███████ University with a degree in something important. Then a nice-looking guy in a suit asked him to join some aerodynamics firm and before he knew it he was slaving his ass off 50 hours a week in return for a salary that won't even cover the downpayment on his mansion. Seriously, boss? If you're reading this, try considering what they call a 'raise'. It helps a lot with the morale. Seriously.
God why am I even doing this shit
- Woven Man: A fairytale.
- The Other Side. Uhhhhh.
- Love Springs Eternal: Definitely not a fairytale. Uhhhhhhhhh.
- A Tale Of Five Offerings: a cautionary poem on why you should not give gifts to stone abominations. Apparently I write good things when I don't think too hard about them.
- Clouds: Why I Really Shouldn't Have Brought A Lovecraft Book Onto An Airplane. Might or might not be just another atmospheric jellyfish.