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Sophie Harte

A young woman, with no remarkable feats nor background to her name. The most dangerous thing she has become involved in is rampant alcoholism, terrible debt and consequent depression. "No, really. That's it."

0 · 535 views · located in Wing City

a character in “Wing City Stories”, originally authored by Script, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

ImageName: Sophie Harte
Age: 19
DOB: 25th May 1991
Gender: Female
Occupation: Book Store Employee
Relationships: Tenuous friendship with younger fellow employee, Min.

Height: 5' 6"
Weight: 131lbs
Overall Appearance: Sophie is a pretty young woman, with long light blonde hair that falls to the small of her back, around delicate features and striking green eyes. She is a petit girl, both in height and in build, and is very slim as well as quite short. She is quite conscious of her appearance, and spends a long time every day doing her best to make sure she looks good, even if she can't afford expensive cosmetics or extravagant clothing. Her favourite outfit is a strapless red silk dress, that she wears only on special occasions, the rest of the time wearing either smart clothing for work, or generic casual clothing.

Personality: While in most ways Sophie is a nice girl, who helps out her friends when she can, a lot of the time she can be quite petty, holding a grudge over the slightest thing and being honestly quite spiteful about disagreements, with a vicious tongue and little restraint about her ways in an argument. As long as you stay on her good side, however, she is pleasant company, and has a good sense of humour. Sophie is confident around both friends and strangers, and is unafraid of approaching people she has not met in an attempt to attain conversation. She is a big fan of movies, chocolate (she has quite the sweet tooth) and music (most genres, though predominantly the more quirky artists such as Lady Gaga and Emilie Autumn - regardless of their obviously entirely different genres). In contrast, she absolutely despises insects, and finds it hard to like those who are either overly arrogant or overly nice - "Life's not all kittens and fluff, nitwits, one of these days, bam, you're stabbed by a drunkard you're trying to help up, or something similarly ironic."

Skills and Talents:
  • Well organised.
  • A remarkably good driver when the need arises.
  • Able to run quite fast away from danger.

Equipment:
  • Phone, keys, purse, make-up, handbag.. etc.
  • Mace. The spray, not the spiked metal stick.
  • An average civilian pistol, that she detests but carries out of a level of paranoia. Only understandable within Wing City, really.

So begins...

Sophie Harte's Story

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#, as written by Script
Sophie Harte remained unconscious for the time being, as she would have been sleeping in for a long time anyway given the amount of alcohol she consumed.

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#, as written by Script
Sophie Harte stirred where she lay, lifting her head briefly off of the ground to stare around at the darkness.

"Fuck. Where am I now? How long was I out and how much do I owe the bar this time?"

Sophie was apparently used to waking up in confusing environments, but as she registered the bars and the guns and the memories, she swore. "Fuuck. It's even worse than usual, isn't it?"

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#, as written by Script
"Great. Locked in a room with some gun-toting, leather-clad catwoman wannabe. You sure go out of your way to look like a prat, don't you? You might think that having your outfit clinging to your bum crack like cling-film looks sexy but really, it doesn't. You are not Halle Berry."

Sophie snorted, apparently confident in the fact that she wouldn't be shot for that.

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#, as written by Script
Sophie Harte ...uh... died of a broken neck? o.O

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#, as written by Script
Sophie Harte fell backwards with a thud, wind knocked out of her lungs. Her vision faded swiftly as she passed out for a second time.

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#, as written by Script
Sophie Harte regained consciousness with a start, staring up at the ceiling. Deciding not to move, considering the remaining presence of the lunatic with the happy trigger finger, Sophie lay there on her back and brooded on the bruises on her chest and legs.

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#, as written by Script
Sophie Harte wondered how long it would be before the leather-clad catwoman wannabe left so she could start searching for improvised weapons.

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#, as written by Script
Sophie Harte fell asleep again, conveniently.

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#, as written by Script
Sophie Harte had been, for this brief duration, unusually quiet in her rummaging through various crates off in a separate area of the hold. However, as the woman pried open yet another box to investigate the contents, a cry of victory could be heard.

"Aha!"

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#, as written by Script
Sophie Harte returned to existence as her writer got back.

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#, as written by Script
Sophie Harte proceeded to remake her "Aha!" noise as detailed in the earlier voided post.

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#, as written by Script
Sophie Harte emerged from the shadowed area of crates, in the process of stuffing something down into her shirt with one hand, muttering incoherently under her breath, though it was obvious that it wasn't pleased muttering. In her other hand, the woman was dragging her jacket, bundled up. The contents of the bundle were clattering ominously.

"Oh. You're all awake now, then? Most of you anyway." she commented.

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#, as written by Script
Sophie narrowed her eyes at Kai, detecting the subtle insult in her unusually sober state. "Hey, I had a hangover at that point. I wasn't really doing much coherent thinking." The blonde woman shrugged, dragging the bundle to her feet and crouching over it to untie the sleeves.

As the bundle unfurled, its contents were revealed as a pair of shotguns, a trio of pistols and a small rifle. "I found me a goodie bag, guys."

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#, as written by Script
"Nobody interested in the goodie bag? Nobody want a gun? Suit yourselves. Guess I'll get to hiding these before the catgirls get back." Sophie shrugged idly.

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#, as written by Script
"Eh. I'm no marksman. I just figured better to have one than not. For after they offload us, rather than while they've got us. Easier to shoot a witless rich git in the head than a trained goon."

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#, as written by Script
Sophie Harte had carefully laid her jacket over the small pile of weapons on hearing the troopers' approach, and promptly sat on it so as not to arouse suspicion.

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#, as written by Script
Sophie Harte did as she was told, though she slid her jacket along the floor surreptitiously. The woman had already been in the process of clearing them away, so she was somewhat concealed from the men's view as she slid the guns behind a crate and swept her jacket away from them so as to disassociate herself from the little pile.

Pacing back into the main area, Sophie looked up at the men, folding her arms and taking up a position nearer to the other captives.

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#, as written by Script
"And I'd love a bottle of wine, but we can't have everything." Sophie rolled her eyes at Laces' little performance. Honestly, of all the things to get in a fuss about, a fag? Good grief.

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#, as written by Script
"If you aren't careful, Captain Stern," Sophie began with a smirk, "I'm going to start thinking you just want to see me take my clothes off." she commented idly. "Well, do I just come up the stairs, or am I waiting for you to come down to get me?"

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#, as written by Script
"Other stuff? You mean my handbag?" Sophie asked with genuine confusion. Apparently genuine. Not really genuine, but a very good impression of it. Sophie had a lot of practice with this.

'What speed was I going officer? Oh no, that can't be right officer. Of course I haven't been drinking, officer!'