Pretty Dangerous

Amelia as Bellona :: The Roman Goddess of War (by @asotoriver)

She worked methodically, dropping the red stained gauze into the bright yellow toxic waste bin beside her without a glance. Cleaning out superficial wounds had become second nature and enabled her to carry out a personable conversation whilst working, Thalia couldn’t help but smile as she remembered exactly what Ricky was like to work for. “It’s been a while since I worked there, I don’t really know any of the newer faces but there’s a couple of good ones still there. If you’re talented you’ll flourish there, I’m sure.”

Thalia’s attention was pulled away as she paid attention to the wound, part of her wanted to refer Amelia in for a doctors assessment but she knew it would be waved off as a waste of everyone’s time. It was almost as though the direction of the knife had come out from within her hand, not stabbing in. The only logical conclusion was she’d yanked it too hard. She winced mentally at the thought.

“You know, I’ve never been to either - which did you prefer? East or West?” She asked, eyes still intently focused on the work at hand, before smiling and bowing her head down further at the question. Innocent and harmless enough but she’d been around enough journalists to know the look of someone who took note of everything you said. “New Havenite, I like that - and yeah, that’s me. Born and raised and never truly left other than to go on a few holidays here and there.” She shrugged off the question about Talon as though it was just another passing comment, “Oh, well since I worked part-time at Buzznews - just as a researcher… I’m no writer that’s for sure - we used to sit next to each other. Grab lunch or walk home after together. We stayed pretty close even after I graduated and left to work here fulltime. He’s my, uh…” She frowned, ceasing her dabbing as she tried to find the correct word as none of them seemed completely correct. “Uh… person… I guess?”

“East Coast, I think.  But New York is pretty specific to itself, so I can’t be sure I’m making a fair comparison.”  Amelia watched the other work, impressed by how comfortable and practiced she seemed with the situation.  “Your whole life, wow.  You must know all the good spots, then.”  

She was surprised to hear that Thalia had worked at BuzzNews.  It wasn’t uncommon for people to work as a researcher part-time while studying or doing something else; there were currently several who she ran into regularly around the office.  Still, the thought of seemingly quiet and methodical Thalia in that noisy space...as her attention was pulled momentarily by someone else in scrubs rushing past the door of the room, she realized it wasn’t all that different from the hospital.

The next comment was what really caught her interest, though.  “Your person, you guess.” Amelia sat forward a little, raising her eyebrows to match her knowing smile.  “I see.”  She scrutinized the other only a moment longer, before leaning back again.  Probably best not to make new friends uncomfortable from the get go--hopefully she’d have more chances later.  “You must have lots of good stories,”  she grinned conspiratorially, “of the variety he’d rather I not know.”

Villain Name: Tempest (Adelaide Walsh)

Face Claim: Aubrey Plaza

Age: She is 29, but she was born 324 years ago.

Species: Human

Powers & Abilities / Specialities: Wind and Mist manipulation, allowing for, among other things, minor cloud formation and flight.  Additionally, sword fighting, sailing, sewing, and cooking.

Backstory: Adelaide Walsh was born in 1696, in Barbados during the golden age of piracy.  Her mother, Constance, originally from Ireland, was a servant in the household of wealthy merchant and she never knew her father.  Constance passed when she was ten, but the rest of the household continued to look after her.  

By the time she turned sixteen, Addie was dissatisfied.  She craved the luxury she saw others enjoying around her, and the adventure she’d heard about from the sailors who passed through town.  Thus, when a pirate ship was spotted coming towards port one misty, moonless night a few weeks after her birthday, everyone locked their doors, extinguished their lights, and hid.  Everyone, that is, except Addie.  No, Addie was waiting at the docks with a small bag of all her possessions when they arrived.

“I’d like to join you,” she said to the puzzled first mate, who’d been sent by the captain to see what, exactly, this strange girl was doing.

“No girls allowed.”

“You break all the other rules.  Don’t see why you shouldn’t break this one.” she quipped.

He considered her a moment, looking down at her before crossing his arms and responding.  “It’s bad luck, having a woman aboard a ship.”

“Most people would say the same about pirates.  Besides,” before he could add anything else, she reached into her bag and pulled out a parcel that smelled faintly of sugar and rum and held it where he, and the eyes that watched them the deck could see.  “I can cook, and mend, and plenty of other useful things.  And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

And well, that settled it.

She stayed on that ship for twelve years, rising through the ranks and learning any skills the others would teach her: sword play, sailing, reading, negotiation.  To the delight and astonishment of the members of the original crew, Addie grew from a mere galley girl to an excellent pirate.  Then they sailed into the hurricane.

It was mid-September, off the coast of Hispaniola.  It hadn’t looked that bad at first, but when they got up close to it, it had been nearly otherworldly.  The ship was destroyed, the crew and wreckage scattered in all directions, the wind screaming and the sea wild and dark against the black sky, obscuring them from each other.  When finally the storm passed, Addie found herself clinging to a piece of drift wood, miraculously alive, floating in what she recognized as a harbor, but filled with strange ships, the likes of which she had never seen before.

It was Newhaven Harbor, and the year was 2019. In one night, she had traveled 1500 miles, and, far more importantly, 295 years.  Beyond that, she'd developed some strange abilities.  It seemed that you could take the girl out of the storm, but not the storm out of the girl.

It took some getting used to, but Addie was a quick learner and, if nothing else, a survivor.  She quickly crafted a life and a name for herself, delighted to find that, while much had changed for the better, the rules and workings of the criminal world had largely not, and she was soon able to find some...friends, who eased her transition into modern life.

Now Addie spends her time wreaking havoc and otherwise enjoying the luxuries of the twenty-first century.  She’s partial to bubble baths and Game of Thrones, and has even figured out how to use a cell phone...mostly.

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Criminal MO: Smash, grab, run like hell, drop half, laugh the whole way.  Tempest isn’t a thief so much as a performer.  She loves to put on a show, the louder the better.  Property damage, high speed chases, and flashy fights are all right up her alley.  She wants the attention more than anything else.  She isn’t particularly into harming civilians, but, y’know...stuff happens.  Don’t mistake her chaos for a lack of control, though.  She’s been at this for a while, and she knows what she’s doing.  When it really comes down to it, she’s quick with her cutlass and sharp as it’s edge, and she always gets away.  At the end of the night she usually ends up foiled but free, which is fine.  Her real money comes from whoever’s paying her to cause a distraction.  Anything else she gets away with is just an added bonus.

Extra Info: She’s declared herself Caspian’s arch nemesis.  She doesn’t have anything against him, in particular.  Quite the opposite actually, she adores him and the drama and publicity he brings.  If she can track him down for a fight, she knows she’ll be in the papers the next day.

Tempest is terrified of Puck.  She hasn’t met him and hopes she never will.  While she doesn’t (or perhaps refuses to) know what he is, what’s she’s heard reminds her far too much of the tales her mother told her as a girl.

Tempest’s night-uniform looks like a pirate halloween costume, because it is one.  In fact, it’s this one.  She bought in on sale from a halloween store the November after she arrived.  At this point it’s pretty warn out, with lost of mismatching patches, and she’s somehow managed not to lost the hat, which she is very fond of.  She’s considering buying a new one once the halloween shop opens up again for the year.  The only parts she’s added are a pair of sturdy, knee-high leather boots that she wears in her daily life as well, some striped stockings for added flare, and the very real, very sharp cutlass that was one of the few things she washed ashore with.  The outfit doesn’t do much to conceal her civilian identity, but the light vortex of mist and small clouds she keeps swirling around her at all times when she’s wearing it takes care of that.

During the day Addie works at the marina, showing boats and giving sailing lessons to tourists.

Bonus Gif Below the Cut (cw: violence, revolutionary war)

@bo-abrams

Bo thought he’d been blending with the evening crowd for the most part. He’d been practically ordered to take the night off by multiple other vigilantes and despite his protests, he’d realized they had a point about pushing himself too hard. So he’d given himself some time to relax and just hang out downtown and be alone. There were plenty of places to sit and watch the people and creatures of Newhaven as the day wound down to a close.

He hadn’t been paying much attention to the majority of his surroundings. He rarely took the time to just exist and it was far more enjoyable than he remembered. Of course, when a feminine voice jolted him out of his thoughts, he couldn’t help but think it was a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy.“You really have that ‘I don’t know how I fit into the world’ vibe about you.” If you told someone they seemed like they were out of place, wouldn’t they automatically become uncomfortable and thus fall out of place even if they’d had one?

He turned a critical eye to the woman who’d made the comment. A complete stranger. He couldn’t help snorting before he shook his head and scooted over to make room for her on the bench. “Speak for yourself, I think I happen to fit just fine until someone like you looks too close,” he grinned. “And I’m not the one poking my nose around and saying things like that to strangers.”

There was a moment when he debated dropping the conversation to return to his people-watching, but there was something intriguing about this woman. When things and people caught his attention, it was usually best to follow his gut. There was always something new to learn if he dug just a tad deeper. “Bo Abrams,” he offered with a hand. “Amateur observer and apparently the odd one out.”

Amelia had been on her way home after some errands when she’d spotted the kid.  She was planning on taking an hour or two to herself before changing and going out for the night, though part of her (mostly the bruised ribs) argued she should just take the night off entirely.  The sight of the teenager pulled her out of her internal debate momentarily, though, as her curiosity drowned out the arguing factions.

He didn’t look uncomfortable, just like this wasn’t something he did often, which struck her as strange for someone his age.  She probably could have picked a more tactful opening line, but this one was practically guaranteed to get some kind of...interesting reaction, and you could learn a lot from what kind.

His response prompted her to match his grin with one of her own as she took a seat next to him.  “Unfortunately for you, I have a degree in looking too close and talking to strangers.”  She shook the hand that was offered, taking note of his name as she gave her own.  “Amelia Reid, professional observer, though most of us just call it journalism.”

“So what brings you out here tonight, Bo?” Amelia leaned back in her seat, taking a moment to look at him more closely.  College age, inquisitive, and persistent, from what she’d seen so far, yet for some reason, still just slightly out of place.  As he’d said himself: the odd one out, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.  Not yet, anyway.  “Something tells me this isn’t your usual spot.”

Amelia glanced up at him curiously over the edge of her screen, surprised by the sudden compliment, but pleased all the same.  “I’d like to think so, yes” she grinned at him, “but it’s always nice to hear it from someone else.”  Sitting back in her chair, she tilted her head as she considered him for a moment before adding, “I get the feeling that the same could be said about you, Talon.”  It was the truth, but if he asked her to explain, she didn’t think she’d be able to.  It was just, as she’d said, a feeling.  But one she trusted, nonetheless.

venus: go to piece of clothing/outfit?

"Grey cardigans.  The looser and longer, the better.  I probably own too many, but they’re so comfortable and they go with everything and they look more ‘put together’ than a hoodie, so I’m not remotely sorry.  They’re really the ideal article of clothing; it’s like wearing a work-appropriate blanket.”

mars: who is your ideal best friend?

She bit her lip, stifling her first response which was to say simply ‘someone blind,’ instead taking a moment to think a little harder.  “Someone who could see and accept me for me, without having or trying to get me to fit too many preconceived expectations.  I guess also someone who could be...patient with me, who could care about me and trust me without demanding full openness right away.  Someone who could forgive my mistakes, but still call me on my shit, as much as I’d hate it in the moment.  It would probably help if they liked mystery novels too, but that’s not a deal breaker.”

@caspian-see

The coffee shop wasn’t busy.  It wasn’t quiet either, never would be at that time in the afternoon, but the activity was low enough that she’d be able to carry on a quiet conversation just fine.  Dimetre Darc wasn’t late to their appointment; she’d just arrived early to make sure she had time to set up and get comfortable.  Amelia wanted to establish quickly that she was in charge of the conversation.

When she saw him step through the door, she put on her best professional smile and set down her hot cocoa next to the large notebook she had open on the table before her.  The left page had a list of points she wanted to bring up, while the right was blank with her pen laying across it.  A laptop might have been easier, but she wanted to be able to see him as they spoke.  Once he spotted her, she stood to greet him, extending her hand and looking up at him kindly, but intently.

“Amelia Reid, BuzzNews.  I don’t think I had a chance to introduce myself at the hotel with all of the,” Amelia pursed her lips, playfully drawing out her search for the right word.  “Excitement.  Anyway, it’s good to see you again, Mr. Darc!  Thank you for agreeing to meet with me; I’m trying to do some follow up on the incident, and I’d like to go over your experience.”  She sat back down, but kept her gaze on him.  “There’s no rush though, if you’d like to get a drink first.  The cocoa’s pretty good.”