CHARACTER
» Name: The Boss
» Fandom: Metal Gear Solid
» Reference: http://metalgear.wikia.com/wiki/The_Boss
» Canon Point: Post-Metal Gear Solid 3, with her death (1964)
» Gender: Physically and mentally female.
» Orientation: 80% heterosexual, 20% if-it'll-save-your-life

The Boss has a confirmed male partner as part of her sexual history, the Sorrow. She was in love with him when he worked alongside her during World War II, and the two had a child together. After the war, the Boss was ordered to assassinate the Sorrow, and this was as traumatic for her as you might expect, so it goes without question that she loved him deeply.

There is a moderate amount of implied sexual tension between the Boss and Naked Snake (later known as Big Boss), who was her last student and "shared more of her life than anyone else." It's up to fan speculation whether she had a sexual relationship with Big Boss, but the latter insists explicitly that the dynamic between them is far more complex than mere romance. Consider this conversation between Naked Snake/Big Boss and Eva:

Eva: What's the story between you and The Boss?
Snake: She was like a mother... and my master.
Eva: And your lover?
Snake: It went deeper than that.
Eva: Deeper?
Snake: Half of me belongs to The Boss.
Eva: Do you love her?
Snake: No, nothing like that.
Eva: Do you hate her?
Snake: Does it have to be one or the other - love or hate?
Eva: Between a man and a woman. You bet.
Snake: For ten years, we lived and died together. You couldn't possibly
understand.
[...]
Eva: Snake, is there anyone you like? Someone special?
Snake: I've never been interested in other people's lives.
Eva: You were interested in The Boss.
Snake: She was different.

We never really hear so explicitly what the Boss thinks of her student, but all of her students are refered to as her "sons," emphasizing less of a sexual and more of a maternal bond. That leaves open semi-Oedipal complexes, of course! One way or another, the Boss is frank in how she treats Big Boss, speaking openly on every possible subject from personal philosophy to her student's dress sense, and even bares much of her chest to him so that he can see the scar resulting from her Caesarian-section (it's a lot more dramatic and emotional than it sounds).

Of course, the Boss is also a total pragmatist, and would never allow someone in need to go unaided, even in a potentially ethically tricky situation (she'll probably stop short of sleeping with her son, but she'd still be very matter-of-fact about taking him to a prostitute, if it meant saving his life). This goes for women as well as men. She's not one to allow personal hang-ups (the very few that she has) to interfere with her own survival either. She may be a little clinical when it comes to collar loosening, but that's a given unless she develops romantic feelings for her partner.

» Personality: As stated above, the Boss is the quintessential pragmatist and completely unflappable. A defining moment in Metal Gear Solid 3 would be when her son, Revolver Ocelot, is playing 1/18 roulette: there is a single bullet in a chamber of one of three identical revolvers, and he expertly juggles these, occasionally pulling the trigger of one on Eva. The Boss, while only paying partial attention, is able to exactly track which chamber of which gun the bullet is in and snatch the gun from her son's hand to fire the shot harmlessly off to the side. (Then she takes the gun and smacks him across the face with it, because she's that kind of old-fashioned mother.)

The Boss is unerringly cool and confident, even coming across as stern and severe. However, her WW2 codename, the Joy, reflects the thrill she feels in the heat of battle, the place where she feels the most alive. It might be said she's addicted to the combat high, though in her role as a mentor she's austerely calm. Furthermore, although she is always direct in how she addresses people, she only begins to yield details about her history to Big Boss toward the end of MGS3; her private life is VERY private.

Yet she is resolutely calm even when terribly burdened, seldom showing a flicker of raw emotion even when explaining to Big Boss about the country that she served only to betray her, and her lover whom she had to kill. She underscores honor and loyalty as divine virtues, sacrificing her life in the course of upholding them.

She is also competent at, um, everything. Canon Sue, sorry. The good thing is that she is VERY conservative in how she uses her own strengths, acting with precision and the best available judgment. She'll also likely pass as many tasks as possible onto whatever "rookies" she takes under her wing. For their own good, of course.

» Appearance: 42 years old, 5'10", weight "unknown" (yes, that's canon), Caucasian, with light, graying blond hair and blue eyes. She is dressed in the white-and-gray sneaking suit she appears in for most of Metal Gear Solid 3: http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/metalgear/images/1/17/THEBOSS.jpg

SAMPLES
» "amatomnes" Entry:

001 [VOICE]

[There's a muffled sound, now quite familiar to anyone on the network, of a new arrival not yet grasping the technology they're fumbling with between uncertain fingers. Then comes a voice-- clear, female, authoritative.]

This is Cobra-actual. Cobra Unit, come back. Over.

[...]

This is Cobra-actual. Cobra Unit, report your positions. Over.

[...]

I am going to take that to mean that I'm not dead. All right. Who else is on this line?

» "amatomneslogs" Entry:


She had never slept long or deeply. Even the fog of her own death was a momentary confusion before a return to clarity, a self-willed drag back into wakefulness. Shapes resolved themselves, but colors did not. The water of the River --so often described to her by the Sorrow, who had always seen beyond-- swelled around her feet until she stood waist-deep in it.

She looked forward, seeing no glimmer at the end of its reach yet, but knowing as inexoriably as she felt the flow of the water that it was there, just beyond her sight.

The Boss walked forward. The pain was absent. The joy as well. Just the duty of this, her last mission. A mission to herself, and to the Sorrow as well.

She could feel him here. Not as a chill brushing the back of her neck, but all-embracing, as when they were inside each other. This place was his soul, or his soul was this place, his physical body just a tiny extension of what had always been his first and true nature.

She felt no impatience or longing. He was here, around her and through her. He was her. Soon, she would see him again. And they would never have parted.

---

The dream in gray melted away from her as the Boss opened her eyes.

So it seems death is a hotel room.

Her body felt sore-- a good soreness, as though she had doing nighttime laps with Jack until sunrise. At the thought of her student, the Boss felt over her bare skin to the wounds he had so recently given her. The fatal ones. But all she found were rough scars.

"Hn."

The voice in her throat was real, near. Not distant and diffuse, as it had felt in the river. Her own voice, her own mind.

The Sorrow was not with her.

She rose, blinking. Taking no care to cover her body, she went to the room's window and looked out. She took in the lay of the town below her, like some forgotten village cut out of time.

She hadn't asked for a Heaven, or thought to imagine one. Perhaps this was not Heaven, really-- Avalon might be a closer analog, although this appeared something Mediterranean. A bit too much like where she and the Cobras had spent some leave back in Italy, really.

It hadn't been the most pleasant vacation. But if this was the memory her mind chose to seize upon, she would welcome it.

Now, to find her Sons.

The Boss returned her attention to the room, finding her clothes laid out on a chair beside the bed. Not her BDUs, but the sneaking suit Volgin had provided her with at Groznyj Grad. It had been washed, but not repaired: the knife slashes and bullet holes that remained were a legend of her final student's skill. She put it on, and as she zipped the front of it up to her throat she more fully turned her attention to the collar wrapped around her throat. Beautiful albino snakeskin, and a buckle much like the head of a serpent.

Ouroboros. Snake-eater. To finish the circle, and destroy oneself.

Somewhere, a god was amused. And unsubtle.

On the nightstand she found her knife and Patriot gun, her old happy friends. Of her radio equipment, she found nothing-- but a slim, polished device like a small television screen, which lit up at the touch.

Interesting.