Mai could be most kindly described as a doormat. She's gentle and mild-mannered, putting most if not all of her available energy into helping others- and setting aside her own needs in favor of this. She's frequently struggling mentally, almost always on the verge of emotional breakdown, but would sooner die than ask for help. She owes it to people to be as quiet and as helpful as possible, and to not be in their way- she's caused enough trouble as is, and she's loathe to make anything worse.

Disguise

Inkyuu infection allows for her to switch between an "undisguised" form and a "disguised" form. In the "disguised" form, the transformative ink on her torso and legs appears merely as markings, shifting into extensions of her own body when "undisguised." Due to the fact that her Inkyuu is most often asleep, she's stuck undisguised most of the time.

Spiracles

Mai breathes primarily out of the two rows of spiracles along her neck, and has to make a conscious effort to breathe "normally."

A hotshot entomologist with roots in the Foundation and just the knowledge they were looking for, Mai's job within its secluded walls was almost guaranteed the second she walked in. The prestige in the Condolences name carried throughout the personnel, and you couldn't read through more than 5 files without seeing her name involved among the researchers.

At some point, though, records of her disappeared. They seem to coincide with the containment of a "round, pink creature resembling some sort of insect." It was a bit too late when the Foundation realized their misjudgement.

She's perfectly happy filing paperwork.

welcome home.

With a long family history of high-ranking Foundation for Societal Preservation employees, Mai's position within the Foundation was almost guaranteed. Barely out of college with the cover story of interning under a prominent entomologist, her consistent work with eusocial insects let her fill a unique niche and involve herself in a much deeper sense with insectoid anomalies that the Foundation might've brought in. She flitted around frequently from project to project, intertwining herself in what little social life existed onsite with ties in each and every friend group in the facility itself. She was known for a kind, patient nature, always willing to lend a helping hand and almost universally referred to as the "mom friend."

Until, that is, she disappeared.

A new anomaly brought in by the Foundation required her immediate attention, and she was drawn out of all other projects in favor of focusing solely on whatever they'd tossed at her. It was bright pink, about the size of a cantaloupe, and vaguely insectoid- about the only reason anyone could want her on the project. It was a drowsy, lazy little thing, hardly interested in her presence no matter what she tried, and that wouldn't do for the Foundation. Rigorous testing followed, with Mai becoming more insectoid by the day in hopes that the specimen would react to something more similar to it. Only when the process was very near complete did it bother to stir, lunging at her and covering her in some thick, strawberry-scented substance before disappearing into her body entirely. It was gone, and it seemed to have no interest in leaving.

The logical solution was for Mai to be put into containment in its stead to study the effects it would have on her, but the idea of their superiors- her parents- kept the heads of the project's hands off. Instead, due to low traffic, she was placed into a desk job politely out of everyone's view. Knowledge of the Foundation's actions would never get out so long as they could help it.

Gets cabin fever easily.

Scared of house centipedes. Specifically.

Makes damn good brownies!

Can't feel extreme heat/cold.