not reason

frances penrose cordelia georgiana hemingway dereham was a proper lady in penrith, but now she’s dead for anyone who will listen. she sat with her spine slammed straight, spoke four languages, excelled in dance, music, and astronomy. the headstone in the family plot says none of that, of course, simply: “ f. dereham, beloved daughter.”  mama could only hold out for hope for so long, papa could only wait for an ransom note that would never come. but so it goes, the story of a girl, there one minute, gone the next. taken, her parents decided -- she must have been taken. and perhaps she was, in a way.  it was better to them than the truth. 

they hired the girl because she came with exquisite references, ones that they never bothered to reference. a busy household hadn’t the time, and shiny pennies like that were hard to find. a year without incident. there were no sick days or untucked sleeves, and she made dear frances so happy. a good thing, they thought, for such a serious girl to have a companion to make her laugh. all the better for the coming season -- men didn’t like girls with their heads stuck in the stars.

a year without incident, and then the girl was gone, the impish smile with her, and then there was the matter of the silver, a smattering of heirlooms. a very distressing matter, i assure you, and young frances seemed quite bereft. 

and then, she too, was gone into the night, chambermaids only alerted the following morning by an open window -- the carpet soaked through with the last night’s rain. 

She was born in the dregs, another mouth to feed, a soul that required saving, a girl who ran with the wolves as soon as she could walk. She accepted her lot in life, and worked hard to make the best of it, viscious practicality was bred into her and she wasn’t one to deny her own nature.

Eventually operated in some capacity for the black market, predominantly as a transporter, she liked fast cars and knew which pockets to fill to get someone to turn the other cheek. Enjoyed the excitement, recognized that the insecurity was probably not her best bet, and grifted her way into marrying a reputable individual and ended up with a townhouse and a fluffy cat. Was happy for a little while, but as with all things, she’s bored very quickly and can’t settle.

Ultimately was resigned to adapting to her new, relatively cushy life and cut ties with most of her former associates. However, feels mostly like a fish out of water in Nova and is being driven slowly insane by the lack of activity in her life. Isn’t really into the whole ~settling down~ thing after all, somewhat upset by this. But a cat doesn’t change its spots so easily.

Has taken to clandestine jaunts to Axis -- very slowly but surely embedding herself in shady things once again. It’s her version of yoga, I guess.

Probably one of those people that is just deeply unhappy, and usually employs dangerous coping mechanisms to deal with her boredom. Likely will get herself into some sort of trouble as she slowly destroys her life u kno.

A chameleon if there ever is one, she’s better at blending in than she is with anything else, adaptable and somewhat apathetic towards most people's’ feelings, she’s equal parts charming and a survivalist, essentially only loyal to herself.