Re: The Fearsome Encounter (GBS3G8) [Signups!]
08-07-2011, 03:47 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by BlastYoBoots.
I know character reserves don't matter, just giving y'all the heads up that I'm entering one. Also want to edit the profile in here so I'm all nice and near the start of this thread. Bragging rights ain't worthless. :3
'Course I have to write her up first, and I'm like in a car hundreds of miles from home. You'll have her in like two days, or I'll delete this post and scrub your floors for a month.
EDIT: And here she is!
Username: BlastYoBoots
Name: Amelia Brightwell
Gender: Female
Race: Human, 23 years old
Colour: Dirty Gold (#AD9000)
Biography: Amelia Brightwell was born with her eyes open.
What she saw, though she didn't understand it – apart from a hospital room and staff – was two parents who weren't prepared to love her. They had expected a son, anyway.
As she grew, suffering under her parents' apathy and various quibbles with each other, she began to notice things. Little things. Like her mother always forgetting to clean Amelia's room with the rest of the house. Her father not paying attention to his own strength when handling her. The lack of care in the preparation and arrangement of Amelia's food compared to her father's, and how her mother sometimes treated both the same when she was angry with him. Being late to take her to school, without getting upset beyond the inconvenience of taking her at all. The gestures that communicated things that went unsaid, and the lack of them which communicated even more. All subtly indicating their disdain for her, and varying levels of disdain for each other.
It was all so, so...
Captivating.
Soon after this realization, her parents discovered that she was going deaf. This only exacerbated these behaviors, both towards her and towards each other as tensions mounted. Amelia stayed aloof in appearance, always distracted, staring at something else, else staring at them, staring, staring, would you stop staring Amelia. A smile, and continued staring. They thought her autistic, not that they cared enough to get her diagnosed.
Her teenage years didn't help, either. Amelia was caught shoplifting a couple times, prompting her parents to beat her. More often, however, she was not caught shoplifting, amassing more and more items she couldn't possibly afford with the meager, meager allowance they allotted her. This only earned further abuse. Not that Amelia seemed to mind much.
Her parents didn't stay together through the ordeal, either. More and more, they had caught subtle objects or clues of infidelity in each other's behavior and possessions, eventually prompting them to divorce. And remarry. And divorce again. Not that Amelia seemed to mind much. More often than not, she just seemed so inexplicably happy.
So happy.
When she went to college, somehow acing the entrance exams, her parents welcomed the break from her. She was paying her own way (somehow, they didn't question it), becoming a useless art student. So much the better. Her parents concentrated on each other over the next few years, away from their deaf waste of space of a daughter; they realized they weren't so bad, and remarried yet again.
And then Amelia got caught for shoplifting again, tried as an adult.
Her parents were annoyed, mostly ignoring the issue despite the opportunity for a harsh jail sentence on her part. Something moved them to attend her testimony, eventually. They probably had nothing better to do, or one made an angry bet with the other that resulted in it. One way or another, they saw her on the stand.
And she was a completely different person.
Testifying in court, their daughter was a captivating young woman, full of emotion and regret. That she stole was a given; there were security tapes confirming it. However, a sentence was out of the question. Nobody in the courtroom believed her deserving of punishment. The charges were dropped, and her parents were stunned.
Amelia arrived back home to a household far different from the one she left for college. Her parents had not only reconciled with each other, but also seen the errors in how they had treated Amelia all along. Gone were the subtle hints of disdain, of apathy. Her parents wanted a fresh start with her, wanted the chance to love her for who she was.
It was all so, so...
Boring.
That night, she personally killed her parents and fled. That look of betrayal in their eyes, the shock, their faces contorted in disbelief as their hearts fervently pumped their dwindling supplies of blood all over them, their lives screaming to a halt... that was much more interesting.
Amelia trekked across the world after that, mostly Europe, learning languages and defrauding sympathetic older folks willing to take in a deaf traveler. Her art struck deep within them to their troubles and insecurities, answering them in the form of her very self; her victims would become obsessively ingratiated to her, giving her anything she wanted that she didn't manage to shoplift for fun. She didn't always kill them before she left; sometimes just a relative of theirs, or someone she met at a store. Or someone who suspected her; their reactions were always fun. But that look on their faces, that shock and their brief struggle to survive despite their fatal wounds, was always entertaining. Not quite as entertaining as her first two kills, of course, but entertaining nonetheless.
Right after she'd drive the sharpened end of a paintbrush into their chest, she'd inform them that she was never actually deaf. That was always fun.
Description: Amelia's face is almost perpetually locked in an expression of wide-eyed wonder. Her eyes seem like those of a child: taking in everything around them without questions, rather than the eyes of an adult which critically discern details and differences. She smiles and often sort of bounces as she walks, eager to appreciate the captivating features of her surroundings, the behaviors of surrounding people. She rarely speaks much, and unfailingly acts completely deaf, though she enjoys making people subtly suspect that she might not be. She isn't deaf, for the record.
Amelia has long black hair, somewhat wavy and unkempt, and deep blue eyes. She looks vaguely French, though it can't quite be placed. Her appearance is dominated by an enormous trenchcoat styled with red lines spiraling clockwise around her body down to her legs, separating diagonal chunks of fabric all shades of pure or mottled red. The last chunk is a large gold-yellow piece around most of the end of the dress, displaying what's painted to look like a giant red bloodstain with the white initials "AB" in the last red dot near the front; the dress is her own design, littered with heavy pockets inside and out full of art tools. Beneath that, she wears a light white tank-top, worn denim jeans, and new sneakers, as well as white gloves quickly stained by her paints (and disposable; she has many extras in her trenchcoat).
She's also covered head to toe in very strong perfume, and has more with her. That and the red coat help mask all the blood nicely, in a pinch.
Items/Abilities: The manifold pockets of Amelia's trenchcoat are loaded with practically every weapon known to artistry. Paints of all colors and types, paint mixes, pastels, glues, varnishes, a solvent or two, spray paint, brushes, pens, chisels, markers, scissors, gouges, knives, thread, sewing needles, and so on. There's even a large hammer somewhere in there, she recalls. Many of the tools' sharp edges have at least a small spot or two of dried blood on them. Except the hammer. They all clink around audibly as she moves, as if she was wearing a suit of armor; apt, perhaps, as a small sword swung at her would likely bounce off all the metal with a 'clang' and a spray of paint and glitter.
Mixed in with the art tools are elements of a lock picking kit, as well. She is proficient in their use, and can be counted on to break into any location that would contain more art tools or other toys. Her sleight-of-hand is absolutely unmatched, through years of practice and shoplifting.
Amelia's most important ability, however, is her sense of intent. All human minds have the ability to detect intent in certain degrees, whether in art or in body language, able to discern meaning out of the way things are placed, moved, and designed. Amelia's mind, through some random quirk of biology, has this on steroids. The conscious and subconscious reasoning behind any given action is immediately obvious to her, regardless of its form or former. Body language and speech will betray deep-seated psychology to her, as well as in-the-moment deception and direction. Architectures will betray their original functions, and make obvious their layouts and design changes since creation. Foreign interfaces and tools will betray limited extents of their purpose and function. Plants will betray their lives and progress, as their shape describes their attempts to grope for nutrients and sunlight. No item, arrangement, or appearance can disguise from her at least a basic, instinctually-felt answer to the question of their why.
And once you can truly see intent, you can manipulate it. Amelia is practiced in distorting the appearance of rooms, objects, and situations to change their apparent purpose. Using careful arrangement and physical changes, she can induce a room to display (or obscure) evidence of tampering or theft, make useless objects seem sentimental and important (or vice versa), or guide the attentions of others to certain things and perspectives. Amelia also has an excellent sense of the intent she gives off with her appearance and actions; she can appear to espouse any emotion or intent she wishes, almost perfectly. If she wished, for example, she could kiss a man in a way that made it seem like attempted rape on his behalf to outside observers, all while leaving the man oblivious. (Such is the extent of her self-control.) This is usually hindered or hampered, however, by her playfulness: if she made her intents perfectly obscure, why, it wouldn't be as fun to see others fall for them, would it? And if she didn't let a person or two suspect her at times, it would just be boring! Amelia is excited by opportunities to observe complicated intents resolving to simple actions, and vice versa. The suspicious and unsure are especially fun to watch.
Nowhere is her ability to manipulate intent more concentrated, however, than her art. Having detected the insecurities and motivations of an individual, she can paint something which visibly exhibits the intent to answer them, tying this to an object, goal, or even herself. The human mind can be quite receptive to these things, even in those for whom art usually passes with neither appreciation nor understanding: with a single work of art, Amelia can cause an idea or purpose to resonate hard enough with someone to slightly redirect their entire purpose of being to her gain. Those sorts of works usually take at least an hour to speed-paint, though, and their subjects are complex enough that Amelia isn't above making the occasional tiny, catastrophic error.
I know character reserves don't matter, just giving y'all the heads up that I'm entering one. Also want to edit the profile in here so I'm all nice and near the start of this thread. Bragging rights ain't worthless. :3
'Course I have to write her up first, and I'm like in a car hundreds of miles from home. You'll have her in like two days, or I'll delete this post and scrub your floors for a month.
EDIT: And here she is!
Username: BlastYoBoots
Name: Amelia Brightwell
Gender: Female
Race: Human, 23 years old
Colour: Dirty Gold (#AD9000)
Biography: Amelia Brightwell was born with her eyes open.
What she saw, though she didn't understand it – apart from a hospital room and staff – was two parents who weren't prepared to love her. They had expected a son, anyway.
As she grew, suffering under her parents' apathy and various quibbles with each other, she began to notice things. Little things. Like her mother always forgetting to clean Amelia's room with the rest of the house. Her father not paying attention to his own strength when handling her. The lack of care in the preparation and arrangement of Amelia's food compared to her father's, and how her mother sometimes treated both the same when she was angry with him. Being late to take her to school, without getting upset beyond the inconvenience of taking her at all. The gestures that communicated things that went unsaid, and the lack of them which communicated even more. All subtly indicating their disdain for her, and varying levels of disdain for each other.
It was all so, so...
Captivating.
Soon after this realization, her parents discovered that she was going deaf. This only exacerbated these behaviors, both towards her and towards each other as tensions mounted. Amelia stayed aloof in appearance, always distracted, staring at something else, else staring at them, staring, staring, would you stop staring Amelia. A smile, and continued staring. They thought her autistic, not that they cared enough to get her diagnosed.
Her teenage years didn't help, either. Amelia was caught shoplifting a couple times, prompting her parents to beat her. More often, however, she was not caught shoplifting, amassing more and more items she couldn't possibly afford with the meager, meager allowance they allotted her. This only earned further abuse. Not that Amelia seemed to mind much.
Her parents didn't stay together through the ordeal, either. More and more, they had caught subtle objects or clues of infidelity in each other's behavior and possessions, eventually prompting them to divorce. And remarry. And divorce again. Not that Amelia seemed to mind much. More often than not, she just seemed so inexplicably happy.
So happy.
When she went to college, somehow acing the entrance exams, her parents welcomed the break from her. She was paying her own way (somehow, they didn't question it), becoming a useless art student. So much the better. Her parents concentrated on each other over the next few years, away from their deaf waste of space of a daughter; they realized they weren't so bad, and remarried yet again.
And then Amelia got caught for shoplifting again, tried as an adult.
Her parents were annoyed, mostly ignoring the issue despite the opportunity for a harsh jail sentence on her part. Something moved them to attend her testimony, eventually. They probably had nothing better to do, or one made an angry bet with the other that resulted in it. One way or another, they saw her on the stand.
And she was a completely different person.
Testifying in court, their daughter was a captivating young woman, full of emotion and regret. That she stole was a given; there were security tapes confirming it. However, a sentence was out of the question. Nobody in the courtroom believed her deserving of punishment. The charges were dropped, and her parents were stunned.
Amelia arrived back home to a household far different from the one she left for college. Her parents had not only reconciled with each other, but also seen the errors in how they had treated Amelia all along. Gone were the subtle hints of disdain, of apathy. Her parents wanted a fresh start with her, wanted the chance to love her for who she was.
It was all so, so...
Boring.
That night, she personally killed her parents and fled. That look of betrayal in their eyes, the shock, their faces contorted in disbelief as their hearts fervently pumped their dwindling supplies of blood all over them, their lives screaming to a halt... that was much more interesting.
Amelia trekked across the world after that, mostly Europe, learning languages and defrauding sympathetic older folks willing to take in a deaf traveler. Her art struck deep within them to their troubles and insecurities, answering them in the form of her very self; her victims would become obsessively ingratiated to her, giving her anything she wanted that she didn't manage to shoplift for fun. She didn't always kill them before she left; sometimes just a relative of theirs, or someone she met at a store. Or someone who suspected her; their reactions were always fun. But that look on their faces, that shock and their brief struggle to survive despite their fatal wounds, was always entertaining. Not quite as entertaining as her first two kills, of course, but entertaining nonetheless.
Right after she'd drive the sharpened end of a paintbrush into their chest, she'd inform them that she was never actually deaf. That was always fun.
Description: Amelia's face is almost perpetually locked in an expression of wide-eyed wonder. Her eyes seem like those of a child: taking in everything around them without questions, rather than the eyes of an adult which critically discern details and differences. She smiles and often sort of bounces as she walks, eager to appreciate the captivating features of her surroundings, the behaviors of surrounding people. She rarely speaks much, and unfailingly acts completely deaf, though she enjoys making people subtly suspect that she might not be. She isn't deaf, for the record.
Amelia has long black hair, somewhat wavy and unkempt, and deep blue eyes. She looks vaguely French, though it can't quite be placed. Her appearance is dominated by an enormous trenchcoat styled with red lines spiraling clockwise around her body down to her legs, separating diagonal chunks of fabric all shades of pure or mottled red. The last chunk is a large gold-yellow piece around most of the end of the dress, displaying what's painted to look like a giant red bloodstain with the white initials "AB" in the last red dot near the front; the dress is her own design, littered with heavy pockets inside and out full of art tools. Beneath that, she wears a light white tank-top, worn denim jeans, and new sneakers, as well as white gloves quickly stained by her paints (and disposable; she has many extras in her trenchcoat).
She's also covered head to toe in very strong perfume, and has more with her. That and the red coat help mask all the blood nicely, in a pinch.
Items/Abilities: The manifold pockets of Amelia's trenchcoat are loaded with practically every weapon known to artistry. Paints of all colors and types, paint mixes, pastels, glues, varnishes, a solvent or two, spray paint, brushes, pens, chisels, markers, scissors, gouges, knives, thread, sewing needles, and so on. There's even a large hammer somewhere in there, she recalls. Many of the tools' sharp edges have at least a small spot or two of dried blood on them. Except the hammer. They all clink around audibly as she moves, as if she was wearing a suit of armor; apt, perhaps, as a small sword swung at her would likely bounce off all the metal with a 'clang' and a spray of paint and glitter.
Mixed in with the art tools are elements of a lock picking kit, as well. She is proficient in their use, and can be counted on to break into any location that would contain more art tools or other toys. Her sleight-of-hand is absolutely unmatched, through years of practice and shoplifting.
Amelia's most important ability, however, is her sense of intent. All human minds have the ability to detect intent in certain degrees, whether in art or in body language, able to discern meaning out of the way things are placed, moved, and designed. Amelia's mind, through some random quirk of biology, has this on steroids. The conscious and subconscious reasoning behind any given action is immediately obvious to her, regardless of its form or former. Body language and speech will betray deep-seated psychology to her, as well as in-the-moment deception and direction. Architectures will betray their original functions, and make obvious their layouts and design changes since creation. Foreign interfaces and tools will betray limited extents of their purpose and function. Plants will betray their lives and progress, as their shape describes their attempts to grope for nutrients and sunlight. No item, arrangement, or appearance can disguise from her at least a basic, instinctually-felt answer to the question of their why.
And once you can truly see intent, you can manipulate it. Amelia is practiced in distorting the appearance of rooms, objects, and situations to change their apparent purpose. Using careful arrangement and physical changes, she can induce a room to display (or obscure) evidence of tampering or theft, make useless objects seem sentimental and important (or vice versa), or guide the attentions of others to certain things and perspectives. Amelia also has an excellent sense of the intent she gives off with her appearance and actions; she can appear to espouse any emotion or intent she wishes, almost perfectly. If she wished, for example, she could kiss a man in a way that made it seem like attempted rape on his behalf to outside observers, all while leaving the man oblivious. (Such is the extent of her self-control.) This is usually hindered or hampered, however, by her playfulness: if she made her intents perfectly obscure, why, it wouldn't be as fun to see others fall for them, would it? And if she didn't let a person or two suspect her at times, it would just be boring! Amelia is excited by opportunities to observe complicated intents resolving to simple actions, and vice versa. The suspicious and unsure are especially fun to watch.
Nowhere is her ability to manipulate intent more concentrated, however, than her art. Having detected the insecurities and motivations of an individual, she can paint something which visibly exhibits the intent to answer them, tying this to an object, goal, or even herself. The human mind can be quite receptive to these things, even in those for whom art usually passes with neither appreciation nor understanding: with a single work of art, Amelia can cause an idea or purpose to resonate hard enough with someone to slightly redirect their entire purpose of being to her gain. Those sorts of works usually take at least an hour to speed-paint, though, and their subjects are complex enough that Amelia isn't above making the occasional tiny, catastrophic error.