#lf.intro

basic

Full Name: June Manuela Alvarez Nickname(s): J, Sunny, a few less pleasant names she refuses to respond to. HATES June-bug Age: Twenty-six Height: 5′5″ Gender & Pronouns: female & she/her Orientation: Bisexual Hometown: Stockwell, London Residential Area: Anywhere she pleases, London Occupation:  Housekeeper at the Savoy, henchwoman for the Jabberwocks Relationship status: Single

bio

Born in January but named after June; June liked to tell people that she had inherited her sarcasm and sense of irony from her parents. A child of immigrants, the girl grew up in one of the many council flats in London, never really realizing that she was lacking anything. She had parents, she had friends, and her charm, along with her baby face, easily won many over.

However, charm and baby face could only get June so far. She wasn't the best student, but she had street smarts, and she knew how to get herself out of the trouble she had so efficiently pulled herself right into. Trouble was her calling, and while there were evenings when she couldn't go back home, she found solace in the damp and cold streets of London. One would think that they were dangerous for a tiny little girl, but June learned how to defend herself fairly early, both through the lessons her mother taught her, and through real-life experiences. 

Being a self-obsessed teenager, June never really properly paid attention to what was happening with her parents. They fought, they loved each other, they were passionate, they were happy, and they were mad. She wasn't bothered, she was used to it; what she wasn't used to, however, was police lights in the parking lot of her building, and she wasn't used to police officers in her flat. She wasn't used to hearing that her mother had been involved in some freak accident and that she was no longer there. She could never get used to not hearing her voice, not seeing her smile, and not listening to her telling June off. 

The first course of action should have been for June to be angry. And she was; while her father mourned, the young girl was lost. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to go about her mother's death? It couldn't be just some kind of accident. London had plenty of them, it was a city as dark as it was beautiful, but none of it made sense to her. She wanted revenge, she dreamed of finding those responsible for her mother's passing (because fuck the police, they were useless), and she was getting restless. Yet, the last thing that June was expecting was to find out that there was meaning behind her mother's death. 

And what a meaning it was. Expecting some jackass who thought her mother had somehow wronged them, June did not even take gangs into consideration. She had heard plenty of them, had seen bits and pieces spending so much time in the streets, but she did not expect her mother to be a part of one of them. What she also didn't expect was getting succumbed right into it, but the moment June was told about everything, she was in. An overwhelming sense of finding out something about her mother that she never expected to find out could've knocked her out and made her feel sick, but it only made June feel stronger. Finally, she had reached something she never expected before, and, before she even knew it, June was participating, she was taking on one task after another, soon becoming a henchwoman for the Jabberwocks. 

While it had been years since the revelation, June had only grown fonder of the gang. She's more than willing to do anything for them and perform duties as asked, knowing that, in some twisted way, it constantly brings her closer to her mother. And while the murder is still on her mind, she knows that in order to find the murderer, she has to be in it for the long game. 

connections

as a child, lucretia was doted upon by her parents and the apple of her father's eye. she never wanted for anything, being afforded every whim and desire she could ever ask for, which very likely stunted her development as a person.

when she turned six she started showing signs of mild sociopathy in her disregard for others feelings and ability to hurt people without remorse, seemingly.

it was allowed to pass as childhood whims and her father never took her for another evaluation, seeing her as the perfect specimen.

in her teen years lucretia attended private school and there were several incidents of others getting hurt around her, one even being one of her boyfriends who was hospitalized for the effort. he never said what had happened and lucretia seemed 'distraught' so it was never pursued.

when her younger sister was born, lucretia was ambivalent, knowing well enough to show signs of happiness at the prospect but not really seeming to connect to corrine.

at 17 lucretia walked in on her father with another woman, not the first in a long line of mistresses that would lead to her having half-siblings all over the country.

though the betrayal was more against her mother and lucretia was hard to actually crack in terms of emotions, she became cold and distant from her father, deciding then and there that she refused to be second to anyone.

after making sure her parents were going to accommodate her wish to attend manchester university and pay her way, she left home and only kept in touch with her sister. they weren't close but lucretia knew well enough to keep at least one family member on the line for her.

her father reached out a lot and was met with a chilly reception, but he still sent money her way. her mother, a woman who chose to stay with a man who betrayed her was afforded even less attention.

before she finished school her mother passed away. the doctor's said heart attack and, in lucretia's studies, she posited that her mother's heart had never recovered from the betrayal and psychosympathetically gave way to the pain.

lucretia did not attend the funeral, citing exams but in reality just having no want to be in a place with that many mourning people, especially her family.

it wasn't long after this that her father's first bastard came forward, a half-brother by the name of michael who was then given the winchester name and more or less becoming cormac's new heir. they half-siblings would continue to come out of the woodwork for YEARS after this and, even in current day, lucretia isn't sure they've all been accounted for.

her father never remarried, instead choosing to continue to be free, but lucretia lost track of him and didn't seem to care anymore — she assumes when he passes she will not be offered anything in his will and while the money would be nice she couldn't care less. she still sometimes talks to her sister, out of habit more than necessity.

after acquiring her masters, lucretia took residence in a nice place in central london and was contacted by her uncle to help him with his ventures. lucretia had always liked alistair and he had doted upon her something fierce so she agreed.

alistair gave her a new lease on life (and a means to afford the better things without having to rely on donations from her family), allowing her to learn the art of assassination (and thievery) to find a position within the jolly rogers.

lucretia was, from then on, loyal to the jolly rogers, though only as far as she was allowed to do her own thing and finish her contracts as she saw fit; mercurial as ever.

she had zero designs on moving up the ranks past contract killing. none of that appealed to her. she was affluent, comfortable, and able to sate her needs, why bother with more? she took joy in the killing, whether anyone could tell if they were warranted or not. the woman likes violence.

partway through, she met javier, a man who paid all of his attention to her which sparked in her, at least as much as her cold heart could manage, some semblance of love. lucretia bucked against these feelings consistently but could not deny them.

javier filled a need that her issues with her father had created (compounded with her undiagnosed sociopathy) and she took to him, but in her own way.

they were violent, they were volatile, and everything they did ended up being a bigger production than it had any right to. their fights were legendary: rooms were destroyed, buildings were set on fire, love was made, javier oft ended up on the wrong side of lucretia's knife. it was bliss... ish.

when they decided to split lucretia shed no tears, even though a part of her was forever damaged in that, like pulling old staples out of a project and shredding the edges of the paper. she wasn't exactly whole EVER but she was even less whole without him around.

she filled this space with more contracts, more killing, and flings out the wazoo to try and incite a response from javi to at least get a bit of that thrill from him. when he started to travel she continued on the same, but was slowly coming to find that she wasn't fond of being under anyone's thumb.

when eliza was arrested, there was a small amount of amusement in that. she thought long and hard about how it would have never happened to her. she never craved the throne though, too much responsibility and not enough fun... but still, she could do better. this she knew.

now under javier's leadership she continues on her merry way, waiting for their paths to cross properly though he seemed to be avoiding her. perhaps another trip down memory lane would sate her bloodlust and need for attention...

the jolly rogers are off on a new path and sweeney todd is along for the ride, forever willing to shed some blood for the cause or, more aptly, for herself.

headcanons

lucretia doesn't love like a normal person. the only person she has ever truly loved was javier and even she doesn't realize it. romantic relationships are likely a non-starter in that regard unless it's javi.

in her home, lucretia has secreted compartments of weapons. modifying the home had to be done discreetly so she got people within the jolly rogers to do so.

a punch is more romantic to lucretia than a kiss, unless there are teeth involved. she sees signs of violence as signs of love.

she has a very small spot that breaks through her wanton murder for animals. she won't hurt them or kill them (a divergence from true sociopathy first of all but the player can't even fathom)

most of the things she does are out of habit. calling their sister would be a thing most people do because they want to (or feel family obligation) but lucretia does it because she just does. its become habitual. same with watering plants in her home, drinking alcohol, smiling at people, etc

she enjoys being in charge insomuch as she likes ordering people around. responsibility is not something she's keen on and yet she refuses to give any sign of seeming obeisance. things happen because she's fine with them happening, not because she's been told to.

give her an inch and she'll take a mile.

likes orchids and, oddly enough, bird watching from her terrace.

life goal is to get javier to wear a tie. (slight joke, deal with it)

wanted connections

'friends' - those whom lucretia has formed a sort of symbiotic relationship with to trade resources, trade secrets, and fill time when it's necessary and she has no work to be done. very few would be actually FRIEND friends, but she counts them among people she'll call in a pinch.

one night stands - she went on a tear of sleeping around and, as if habitual at this point, falls into the same pattern if she's not properly occupied. there are very few repeat performances but this could segue into awkward encounters through interactions, though lucretia herself would only feign awkward. bonus points if they can fit into the following category as well.

law enforcement stalkers - using the word stalker as a sort of blanket term here for anyone in law enforcement that suspects her of anything but hasn't been able to pin her yet. she's very meticulous and clean in what she does, so it might be harder for them, but they find ways to strike up conversations and hassle her. taken by @colin-blackwood

friend - lucretia has to have at least one friend, outside of javier and their messed up relationship, that she trusts. open to anything for this as long as we can plot it out thoroughly and have a good reason. she's not a good person but i won't say she's entirely outside the realm of caring about people, she just does it oddly. preferably someone within the jolly rogers but other ideas can be entertained.

fellow killers - though it's not like they network, lucretia has likely been forced to work alongside others or seen others in her own field and, for whatever reason, they recognize one another and have a sort of quiet respect, as much as anyone can.

half-siblings - can really be anyone as long as they are at least half-caucasian (she's of irish descent). will be putting in a wanted connection for the one named half-brother she also has (as well as her sister) but this is open to anyone else who wants to be half-siblings to lucretia and have her father, cormac winchester as their father.

It was at around the same time that his parents signed him up for scout camps as they didn’t want their son to be idle for two entire months. His older sister spent her summer taking gym classes, and he could use some time away from books. After a few summers, the young boy was put in charge of his group of scouts and that was his first-time experiencing leadership from the top of the pyramid rather than the bottom. He found that he quite enjoyed that, and that he was good at it too. When he started school again in September of that year, Luis had blossomed into a much more confident teenager than he was a couple months before. Although according to his best friend, he was still, by all means, a huge bloody raging nerd, he stopped being nearly as introverted and shy as he once was, and found that through opening up to others, people did the same to him (or maybe was it this little thing called puberty that hit him like a guardian angel).

It would have been a bit disheartening, of course, to realize that your brains and your words mattered a lot more to people if your face was pleasant to look at. Luis fortunately for him, remained oblivious to that. Then, his older sister’s persistence in reminding him that he looked like a Gremlin and a dinosaur had a love child may have helped with being oblivious.

While in high school, Luis volunteered to help a politician for the local elections with the hopes that it would help him in his college applications. Considering how he had been brought up, it wasn’t complicated for him to pick a party to root for: the Labour Party was the obvious choice and one he has stuck to ever since. He learned quite a bit about campaigning, and quite a lot about the way things worked, but although he might have not been the toughest young man, he lacked nothing else to engage in local politics. While studying in college, at the London School of Economics, he used the very few connections he had made while in high school to lend a job with a London councilwoman’s office notably on matters regarding immigration and graduated with a first-class degree award on his bachelor in Local Policies and Economics. He then worked for a non-profit (The British Red Cross) and spent most of his free time assisting Labour party politicians until he was asked to be campaign manager for a candidate in the 2008 mayoral elections.  Their candidate won the elections and moved onto the British Parliament in 2016 at the end of his second term. Luis, in the meantime, had dropped his job with the Red Cross and gotten elected to public office in 2012 as councilman of London. He was reelected in 2016 and decided to offer his name to the Party for the Mayoral elections of 2020.

Now in office, Luis pushes for liberal ideas, advocating for issues ranging from the state of the NHS to the ecological transition of London. He fights gentrification and has launched a series of projects aiming to help the 99% whether through the tackling of immigrational issues, or fundings for promising young entrepreneurs. His long-term plans include Parliament but being the first man of color making it to Prime Minister would also be an honor.

+ / -  Charismatic, level-headed, incisive, passionate, calculating, idealistic, overly empathetic, intense

He’s obsessed with Queen and sometimes quotes the band in speeches. No one’s noticed, so far.

Luis’ hair is speckled with grey streaks, it has been this way since his early 30s.

Luis doesn’t drink often and doesn’t smoke. He makes sure he’s walked at least 10 000 steps every day and does yoga and pilates on  a regular basis. However, he splurges an awful lot on coffee and drinks too much of it. He’s not all that fond of tea, but if you ask him, he’ll pretend he loves earl grey as it is one of those things that makes you untrustworthy to the British eye.

Luis is an avid bird watcher and can imitate many bird songs with ease.

His secretary often moves items in the office to see if Luis will  notice. Detail oriented as he is, it often takes him little time to spot what changed. He could be world champion at the 7 differences game.

*BASICS.

BIRTH NAME: Zoë Vogel  CURRRENT NAME: Zoyalind Amandine Finch NICKNAMES: Z ; S.O.S ( acronym of ‘seven of swords,’ used by Jabberwocks only ) ; Birdy ( used only by Rune and those in the know ) AGE: 27 D.O.B.: July 14, 1995 BIRTHPLACE: Grigny, France CURRENT RESIDENCE: London, England LANGUAGES SPOKEN: English, French ( native ), conversational German, beginning High Valyrian ( learned secretly via Duolingo ) AFFILIATION: Jabberwocks. OCCUPATION: socialite ( but really, con + artist ) EDUCATION: secondary school / limited university-level coursework  SEXUALITY / ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: whatever, whoever, whenever RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single CHILDREN: none POSITIVE TRAITS: artistic, fun-loving, imaginative, quick study, sociable NEUTRAL TRAITS: chameleonic, enigmatic, proud, selectively loyal, vain NEGATIVE TRAITS: hedonist, mischievous, narcissistic, opportunistic, self-indulgent INSP: Anna Delvey, Banksy, Holly Golightly, Jessica Rabbit, Megara, Vesper Lynd, and the girlboss/gaslight/gatekeep meme

*HISTORY.

It was never a secret to little Zoë that she was an unplanned child. The absence of a father throughout all her formative years was evidence enough, along with a distinct longing for the more that simply could not be provided by her poor, immigrant mother. She grew up a child of invention, prone to fits of drama and imaginative histrionics — teachers would note that she’d seemingly mastered the ability to cry ‘truthful’ tears on a moment’s notice by the age of nine, and used this to trick classmates into believing some heartbreaking story that would lead to her acquiring more toys, money, and candies than she’d left home with.

Her better qualities, however, showed an early aptitude for art, rhetoric, and escapism. Zoë learned young that there was nothing people loved more than a good story, or the impression of one — with ‘good’ denoting not just qualities of wholesomeness or courage, but instead something that one could sink their teeth into and bite at until they were left with complete satiety. The world around her, more her mother’s than her own, was all dismal and dingy and small. There was nothing interesting about their one-room hovel, nor the fact that both inhabitants worked degrading, menial jobs just to put scraps on their table once a day. What was interesting, however, was what young Zoë imagined in its place, dream-worlds turned into reality by way of canvas and pretend — deluding even herself into believing she was a special girl made for special things.

Instead of attending university like her mother had hoped, Zoë took a job as an au pair for a politician’s family, and remained with them for a few years longer. It was through this work that she had her first true encounters with the elite — not as a participant, but as an observer, and one who was granted the opportunity to study until it became second nature. Once that piece fell into place, the girl continued her attempt at being her own divining force, creating destiny rather than waiting for it to come to her. Lying to her mother about the status of her work, Zoë Vogel relocated to London and re-fashioned herself as Zoyalind Amandine Finch, the daughter of a French heiress and British-German diplomat. On charm alone, she could sell her new acquaintances on the fantasy — but then again, who could have denied someone with her beauty, knowledge, and the natural eloquence of her tongue?

Quickly, she became a darling of the London arts and club scene, acting on behalf of her ‘Finch Foundation’ by hosting artists’ debuts and other vernissages before they moved onto larger exhibitions at London’s grandest museums — including, by way of the pseudonym of ‘Birdy’ — her own work. Long dead was the girl who’d hand-scrubbed floors, polished silverware, or chased after children, and in her place was a socialite free to roam the realms of high society and an artist whose anonymity ensured her success. However, on a ruthless string of bad luck, Zoya got desperate when her financial demands couldn’t be met by what she made ( or made up ), and so she struck a deal with the Jabberwocks: their loaned support in exchange for the business her so-called foundation brought in — and whatever else they found her useful for.

In the time since, Zoya’s become the shining starlet of the Red Rose Casino, hosting her parties there and ensuring that the status-hungry and wealthy alike empty their wallets and shed their inhibitions at the Jabberwocks; crown jewel, only to come back begging for more. The casino provided the experience, but she sold the illusion in the first place, the promise of elite treatment sealing the fates of so many as little more than Alices gone down the rabbit hole of gambling and grandeur.

*WANTED CONNECTIONS.

more will be added v soon, along with a proper connections page once i figure out zoya’s theme and pages and whatnot !! these are all up for grabs, and if you like bits of one but not the whole idea, dw — i’m all about collaborating on some cool plot together, so just hmu and let’s dream something up <333

ENEMIES: It’s an obvious one for a girl like her, but I think it’d be fun to play around with varieties of this trope, meaning — friends turned enemies, rival elites, someone who’s realized they’ve been conned by her, etc. Honestly, I just want to see Zoya squirm,  retaliate, and/or attempt to con her way out of the situation. There are lots of reasons to be a hater, and so I’d definitely like to play out different versions of ‘enemies,’ most especially between Zoya and a member of the Jolly Rogers, but also between Zoya and a civilian or member of government.

GUIDING LIGHT: ( Likely only suitable for someone unaffiliated with either group. ) She doesn’t hate the woman she’s become, but I do think there’s a part of Zoya that wants to know if she could ever be someone more typically ‘good.’ This plot would be for a far gentler soul than she is, who against all odds, is or becomes someone that Zoya ( normally very suspicious of the goody-two-shoes types ) not only trusts, but even aspires to be more like. I’m especially interested in playing this out and seeing how Zoya’s own shadowy self might affect the other’s light-like qualities, in addition to the reverse, of course.

HADES TO HER MEGARA: ( Likely only suitable for a fellow Jabberwocks member. ) I imagine that this is the person with whom she struck her deal, and is essentially indebted to for loaning her money in exchange for the business her fallacies brought in to other establishments. Similar to Meg / Hades, I think that this person ( whether of their own accord or on the Jabberwocks’ orders ) would find ways of stretching out the terms of the deal, making Zoya interminably in debt to them and seemingly without a way out. How this might pressure her into making other deals and decisions, along with exploring a potentially twisted little connect, would really be so fun to me.

HEARTBREAK: Heavily inspired by this, and ( despite the connect’s name ) not necessarily just for a romantic plot!! Similar to the Guiding Light connect, I’d really like to play around with someone who either sees the good in Zoya, or perhaps has simply been duped into believing her to be a truly good person. The drama comes in when either the curtains are raised and the masquerade is over, and it’s clear that Zoya is going down a path / becoming someone that the other cannot support. I can definitely see this fitting a romantic or friends sort of ship, especially one which originally started via Zoya’s con artistry but has since grown into something far more real than Zoya could have ever predicted — thus making the outcome, on both parties’ ends, all the more heartbreaking.

WRATH OF CONS: ( listen, i had to go for at least ONE terrible punny name. ) I’d love a little cat-and-mouse sort of relationship between Zoya and a rival con, especially one that starts with neither party knowing the other’s true intentions. A little bit of Mr. and Mrs. Smith energy, though not necessarily romantic-inclined!

ofc, non-specific connects are always welcome! for example: friends, romances, colleagues, etc !!

*EXTRAS.

i. Although it happens to be an interpretation of her birth surname, there’s genuinely no reason as to why she chose the surname ‘Finch.’ She simply thought that it lent a nice ring to her new name, and sounded believably aristocratic enough — an old money name, and one with plenty of character and animal allusions to go along with.

ii. Fittingly for her alliance, Zoya is enamored with tarot and all things occult. She’ll gladly read her friends’ spreads at parties, perform a monthly energy cleansing at her flat, and check her horoscope at breakfast. Her belief in these practices is...not exactly firm, per se, but there is a sort of optimistic nihilism behind it all.

iii. Zoya has the palate of a child: sweets, fried foods, uncomplicated dishes, things packaged with sugar and no visible expiration date, the same old order from the same old place. Even with her talents for reinvention and fallacy, you can’t adjust tastebuds with a trick of memory.

iv. Taking after her mother and the countless others of their low-income area, she’s been a smoker since her teen years, and her voice ( naturally somewhat low-pitched ) has gotten increasingly raspy over the years. Doctors would argue that it’s chronic laryngitis, but Zoya simply embraces it as part of her smoke-and-mirrors charm.

there's a dossier included in the layout for her blog but as not everyone goes to look at blogs I'll put that basic information here too.

NAME: maria cao / xīn yán cǎo (欣妍 草) ALIAS: sweeney todd AGE: 61 GENDER: demifem PRONOUNS: she / they OCCUPATION: assassin SEXUALITY demisexual / grey aromantic FACECLAIM: michelle yeoh HEIGHT: 5'6" WEIGHT: 134 lbs HAIR COLOR: black EYE COLOR: brown TATTOOS: for her to know and you to find out SCARS: varied and many PIERCINGS: both ears twice OTHER FEATURES: often times 'dead' eyes POSITIVE TRAITS: loyal, efficient, meticulous NEGATIVE TRAITS: cold, calculating, cruel LIKES: murder, the finer things, playing the game, chaos DISLIKES: rules, order, poverty MBTI: entj BIRTHPLACE: ipoh, malaysia CURRENT HOME: penthouse owned in downtown london NATIONALITY: european citizen (expat of several countries) ETHNICITY: Malayasian / Chinese LANGUAGES: english, french, malay, chinese, japanese, & italian

born to poverty and eventually realizing she much preferred the finer things in life, maria chose to be wealthy instead. it involved utilizing skills she'd learned through the military and her own disillusionment with society as a whole (and her mental disconnect from most of her emotions) to become an assassin of some reputation before her loyalty was claimed by the Jolly Rogers with the understanding that she will still take outside contracts as long as they do not interfere with the tenets of the Jolly Rogers' best interests.

once married to joaquin vidal — the only man she ever loved and is still very much (quietly, sometimes) unhealthily attached to, she now serves herself and the JR and oftentimes spends her free time attending social events to keep up appearances or training in her penthouse (modified to house its own studio for more involved training) — though most notably doing her very best to get under the skin of her former paramour and still (sometimes) friend.

quick connection ideas

public face friends (meaning those she's mostly around for public appearances and 'cover')

friends (limited, she's hard to earn the trust of)

lovers (sex only as she doesn't really do emotions outside of a very specific instance)

co-workers in the jolly rogers who she's grown to like more than just in the sense that they're on the same team

clients

targets (limited but if someone puts a hit out on you she can be the one tasked with it and hasn't pulled the trigger (dad jokes) yet for x reason)

stats.

full name:  marisol valentina aguilar

nickname(s)/alias(es):  mari, sol

age:  28

date of birth:  march 19

star sign:  pisces

place of birth:  mérida, mexico

current location:  london

gender:  cis-fem

pronouns:  she/her

sexual orientation:  hopeless romantic bisexual

religion:  catholic

occupation: post-doc researcher in archeology at the british museum

family:  carolina aguilar ( mother ) , juan carlos aguilar ( father ) , marina aguilar ( sister – deceased )

education level:  phd in archeology from oxford

living arrangements:  flat paid for by her scary boyfriend ( joaquin vidal ) in southwark, london

financial status: lower middle class

spoken languages:  english, spanish, yucatec mayan, reads latin

bio - tbd.

quick details.

Born and raised in Mérida, Mexico – the capital of the Yucatán peninsula. Her father is a university professor, the leading Mayan archeologist in the region. Marisol absolutely idolizes him and followed him in her own academic pursuits. She studied first with him, before getting into a phd program at Oxford.

Moved to oxford as a phd student, very much culture shock – but Marisol is exceptionally generous and kind and persistent, so she managed to do well.

Moved to London in August of 2023 for a postdoc research position at the British Museum in the Mexico wing, initially living with a few friends from grad school.

She met Joaquin Vidal at a pub, he swooped in to save her from the advances of an exceptionally drunk patron. Marisol was almost instantly smitten, a hopeless romantic to her core. He quickly swept her up in his world of wealth and excitement with all the grace of a gentleman. She knows what he does, in a loose almost abstract sort of way.

stats

full name:  elizaveta augusta liddell

nickname(s)/alias(es):  eliza, el, the devil

age:  26

date of birth:  june 26

star sign:  cancer

place of birth:  devon, england

current location:  london

gender:  woman but as a threat

pronouns:  she/they

sexual orientation:  lesbian menace

religion:  agnostic / apathetic  

occupation: trainer of recruits / failed nepo baby / professional liability

family:  constantine liddell ( father – deceased ), tbd ( mother ) , viktor liddell ( older brother ) , alexei liddell ( older brother ) , zoya liddell ( older sister ) , one more older sibling

education level:  kicked out of several prestigious boarding schools  

living arrangements:  flat paid for with daddy’s money in kensington  

financial status:  wealthy

spoken languages:  english, mandarin, french, russian

details

Eliza found it hard to sleep.

Her flat – paid for with dead daddy’s money, of course – conveniently close to her siblings and the others tasked to keep an eye on her, was perfectly fucking fine. Too fine, too convenient, and way too fucking close for the hurricane in human skin that was Elizaveta Liddell.

Really - she was bored; achingly, mind-numbingly, maddeningly bored.  Her skin screamed out for violence, her various scars protesting the banality of training those god forsaken idiotic recruits. Until now, she’d never fully appreciated the pain inherent in the phrase ‘itching for a fight’, nails digging into her arms in an attempt to resist every cell in her body crying out for release. 

As a child, Eliza had taken to violence the way other children took to reading, or maths, or perhaps a musical instrument. Does not play well with others - was how her teachers phrased it all through primary school. And for a while, they didn’t want to believe it. She came in such a pretty package, big blue eyes and a darling face, her ponytail slightly askew and accented with an overly large bow. And what a good family, they all said, the Liddell’s ran Devon, even to this day.

But there were…incidents. Some could be dismissed as childish spats in the school yard, willful ignorance playing a huge role in this. Still, the school could not overlook the time a classmate ended up with a pair of scissors jabbed into their thigh; and although no one could firmly tie Eliza to the deed, she’d watched the blood drip down the leg of the student next to her with what was described as a chilling interest. Various boarding schools did little to tame this violent streak, though it was difficult to tie such violence to a Liddell. The once friend who ended up at the bottom of a staircase with several broken bones whilst Eliza cried her very best crocodile tears, such a lovely friend to wait by the injured girl’s side. The school tossed her out for theft – the one thing they could actually prove. At the next school there was a rash of sudden illnesses – all girls who’d dared defy little Eliza Liddell’s will when she arrived. Unable to tie the poisonings to the blonde, the school accused her of cheating ( guilty ) and had her thrown out.

A cadre of well meaning but ultimately ineffective teachers and other school administrators offered a variety of explanations - the trauma of the youngest child, attention seeking, perhaps she simply wasn’t challenged enough at school? Eliza wanted to shrug, brush away their concerns with the simple fact she’d come to accept about herself - she liked how it felt. But instead the blonde got better at hiding, leaning into that pretty face and charm she could summon if she tried hard enough.  She learned to fight dirty, literally tooth and nail, learned to lean into her smaller stature and the presumed weakness. 

By her teens, Eliza was quite sure she could be lethal if she wanted. Her early twenties only proved this point.  

She knew her father controlled the Jabberwocks, as the youngest Liddell she’d learned to listen at doors and hide in corners as soon as she could walk. His death was a shock – Eliza overseas in one of the various schools. Constantine had never been a loving father, nor was he particularly present in her life – but he was still her father. Maybe it was the sudden lack of fear, the slight chaos that persisted before her eldest brother took over – but Eliza’s teen years were her most violent and volatile.

Of course, that was when she thought she still contributed. When Eliza hoped her anger and violence was honed into a weapon poised to do her family’s bidding. Sometimes, late at night in that too silent flat, her rage turned against her. Eliza would pace, the anger mixing with bitterness and resentment, a toxic blend resulting in uncharacteristic self-doubt. Did they think she was weak? Some stupid, vapid socialite like her sister or Max? Or was Viktor so self-obsessed that he could not see the benefit her brand of jagged cruelty might offer?

But no, Eliza was on a very short leash and in an even shorter temper. Training nobody recruits in basic self-defense was almost more offensive than if her brother had called her a slur. But Viktor controlled the money, and Eliza needed that – so she did her best not to kill the idiots.

This bar was supposed to be safe, yet it took every ounce of self-control Eliza could summon to keep from smashing her glass into the face of one of the aforementioned idiotic recruits who dared speak to her outside of training. Instead, the blonde shot him a glare that threatened to take a year off his life and made it approximately twenty more minutes before fucking losing it. 

In her defense, Eliza fucking hated to be touched except under very specific circumstances of her choosing. And really, they all should have foreseen something like this happening – her leash and temper were both notoriously short. The man was blind drunk, embarrassingly so, such that she’d expected someone else to step in. Here Eliza will admit to one single mistake, she underestimated the will of drunk and vulgar man who’d spent his afternoon being bossed around by her.