Joan Kozbi
An older woman who served as a pivotal figure in the events surrounding Derk's Field. She previously served as a medical assistant in the makeshift triage center at Derk's Field. After being revealed as the contractor responsible for healing others in the middle of the night, she devoted herself publicly to organizing and helping those in need.
Joan Kozbi
Biographical Information
| Born | March 4th, 1945 (age: 59) |
| Alias(es) | Healing Knight |
| Occupation | Triage Nurse |
| Contractor | |
| Status | Deceased (May 16th, 2004) |
| Affiliation | 50s (formerly) |
| Relatives | Zimri Kozbi |
| Unnamed son |
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| Unnamed son |
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| Appearances | Here Comes the Rain Again |
Background
Joan Kozbi was nurse before the Flood, who raised two sons with her husband Zimri. All three were first responders, and paramedics. During the Flood of '89 she lost her husband and both her sons.
She helped establish Derk's Field as an Emergency Shelter following the Flood. She has worked there as Triage Nurse ever since, spending fifteen years watching young men and women die of infection, disease, and Spirit Sickness.
For a time she joined with the 50s to try and make a difference, but found it unfulfilling. She has grown bitter with the constant conflict between the APCA and Lions over Salt Lake City. To help with the growing number of injured she has made a contract with the Spirit, Scales.
Her contract requires she give out healing and harm in equal measure. Every night she sweeps through Derk's Field and heals the wounded and sick en masse, and every day she tends to those she could not help. As payment, she has to harm in equal measure. She captures strays from the streets outside Ball Park and tortures them to meet the terms of her contract. The more depraved, the more healing she is capable of.
Recently, she has revealed herself as a Contractor to the people of Derk's Field. She endeavored to heal everyone there and create safe place from the Lions and APCA and their war. However, as she fulfilled her contract, the Stream inched closer.
Wittika, Detective Jamie Kane, and Reverend James Joseph Franklin III intervened. Wittika sacrificed his life, killing himself, the Reverend, and Joan Kozbi in one move. As they perished the Stream nearly flooded forward, barely contained. As Joan died, she watched her work healing the people of Derk's Field undone.
Personality
Joan is a quick woman with a soft smile, a kind heart, and a deep desire to help. She disdains seeing others hurt, especially those close to her. While she has to deal out harm as a part of her contract—something that fills her with a deep regret—she cannot bring herself to hurt those she knows.
She is quick witted and is prone to a bit of sassiness, though almost never at others' expense. Almost.
Appearance
Joan is a middle aged woman with graying salt and pepper hair, a penchant for alternative functional outfits, and striking eyes the result of untreated cataracts.
Quotes
I like Joan. Joan's more real than 'knight,' and Joan has a much sweeter smile.
I gave up on fixing heaven years ago, but I'm not decided on Hell yet.
I tried at first. I tried lying, stealing, adultery…but none of it was equal. It didn’t meet the terms. Then I…I hurt people. And that wasn’t enough either…but I never said I’d stop.
My surname’s Kozbi. I take it you weren’t of the faith judging by your eyes still being in your head.
Some of you all know me. Others haven’t had the pleasure of becoming acquainted. I’m Joan. I usually try not to be too much of an imposition on your time, and do the first-aid the best I can before getting out of the staff here at Derk’s way. I’ve been clawed, spat on, thanked, hugged, loved, and hated about as much as a person can be while I’ve been here. Fifteen years now and I have something I want to say, if that’s alright.
I’ve been around for a long time: long enough to lose people I cared about in the Flood. And I know that doesn’t make me special. Fifteen years should be a long time, but every time I look up at the Stream, I remember when I could see the Salt Flats from my house instead. I remember my sons, and my husband too. See, all three of them were paramedics. And all three of them were first responders.
And there’s no more story to that. I never got to know what happened. Stream came and took them and everyone else across 50 city blocks. We don’t know what happened. We don’t know what Spirits did with them. And we never will.
And we tried to make a life for ourselves here. I tried to make a life for myself. Hard for an old woman to lose her family and start over, but I did. I helped set up the Emergency Shelter at Derk’s and I’ve been here ever since. Every day. I see you all everyday.
I’ve watched so many you come and leave, come again, and come and stay, and come and never leave. I have drugged and dragged you out. I have had to watch boys younger than mine die of infection, disease, Spirit Sickness. We saved a lot of you, but I’ve buried even more. And I could live with that. I could live with seeing this if I could help you.
And then a year and a half ago East Salt Lake and West Salt Lake met and the Lions and the APCA have been fighting it out ever since. Borders haven’t changed, no ground gained in Downtown, and all that’s happened is we’ve all been hurt. And I thought I could deal with that too.
Looking at the Stream everyday, patching everyone up, and sending off little boys to get hurt and come again. I thought I could do it, I really did. But I can’t. I can’t watch it and keep patching you up and keep looking up and thinking about yesterday. I’m just one old woman and I’m not that strong.
Contractors are scary, dangerous, and unknown. They’re like the Spirits they serve. The same ones who brought this Stream to us. And they’re the biggest threat to our existence. That’s what we’re told, that’s what we should believe.
But…I watch these boys come in and it isn’t Spirits doing it. Its Lions and The APCA. Fighting over how things should be. Fighting like we aren’t all stuck in one big bowl waiting to die. And they keep hurrying it up.
And I just kept thinking about my boys. My husband wasn’t a coward and neither was he a fool. He didn’t know how dangerous it was…and he never took a risk in his finances or his home, but he still went in on that day. I lost him at Salt Lake Temple.
I saw the Stream one morning, after seeing it every other morning and there was something different. It was me. I wasn’t as scared of it as I was everything here. So, I stepped in.
That’s right. I went in. And I made a contract. I’m a Contractor. I’m your Healing Knight, but maybe don’t call me that. And I’ve gone through and healed so many. And more just keep coming. Coming and going, and going and never leaving. I had a conversation with some folk recently, and I realized I can do more. So, much, more!
Maybe that’s a good enough start to take a rest on, though.
You never really know how Spirits work until you’re in with one. This whole time I thought the terms of the contract were their own price, but I never even knew the game. It was always about making me into something I was never supposed to be.