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Rose Ellison

0 · 234 views · located in 'The Land Of The Free'

a character in “Hang Them High”, as played by Saint Crash

Description

Rose Roberts



Name:
Rose Ellison-Roberts


Alias:
Rosie Ellison, Ghost

Age:
Twenty-six

Gender:
Female

Rank:
Commander

Physical Description:
Rose stands at a rather average five foot seven, and her now athletic build only shadows her once quite feminine figure. Her skin is lightly tanned, having only spent any time outdoors since her services as a cyber criminal were rendered somewhat redundant. She once dyed her hair a light brown, but nowadays retains her natural chocolate brown color, along with the slight curl that has irritated many Roberts women before her. Rose never had the time or the energy to try and calm or enhance it, instead being happy enough to keep her shoulder length hair in a constant ponytail. As for her facial features, Rose has the typical family look passed down to her from her mother. She has good bone structure, full lips, and almond shaped hazel eyes framed with thick dark brown lashes. She is not considered a great beauty, something that her mother blames on Rose's disdain for wearing make-up of any measure to flatter or highlight, or the small dusting of light, almost invisible freckles she inherited from her father.

Rose's style has always been comfort and function over fashion. If it doesn't serve a secondary use other than covering flesh, odds are that it isn't in her wardrobe. More recently, she has a need to maintain a look of professionalism, which she has managed to do to a degree. Fashion, or what passes for it in the broken world around her, has always been something that has escaped her.

Biography:
Rose's family had been heavily involved with the Sinners since their founding. Her eldest brother, Michael, was the one accused of having ordered the retaliation attack on Black Mariah, and her other siblings have been at the forefront of the fighting ever since. As the black sheep of the family, Rose was virtually useless with a gun, and struggled to hold her own in a fight. However, her family soon became aware of her excellent computer skills; namely her ability to worm her way past firewalls and 'top of the range' security systems. Utilizing this talent, and despite her youth, Rose quickly rose to become one of the city's most dangerous criminals, without so much as looking at a firearm. She earned her nickname 'Ghost' because she although she was seen to be a major threat, she was also virtually unknown, and it was extremely hard to track her down. After the death of Michael, Rose was inducted into the Choir and forced to learn how to fight, how to defend herself and eventually, how to kill. The discovery of the government's part in framing her family and friends for the attack on Black Mariah very nearly shattered Rose, despite it redeeming her family's name. She had lost almost everything in the fighting between Jokers and Sinners.

For a period of time, Rose dropped off the radar completely, trying to sort out her injured mind and body. She reappeared as one of the first to begin promoting a united front against the corrupt government, brushing off suggestions that she is unable to cope in a relatively peaceful world after spending so much of her childhood fighting against an enemy. None the less, she is bringing much of her experience as a member of the Choir and of being one of the gang's more subtle operatives to the table.

Personality:
For the few who remember Rose's days as one of the family's inner circle, they would describe her as being socially withdrawn and very low key. She was the black sheep, preferring the safety and solitude of her room in the highly secured basement of the family home, rather than the life fighting for control on the streets or the almost glamorous job of maintaining her reputation of the youngest, most indulged child, being the only girl. She found her solitude in a computer screen, and despite lacking a natural affinity with guns or knives, found her weapon of choice in the form of lines of code.

Rose was a member of the Choir officially, or as officially as one could be, but in those days, she was still their cyber-branch. She knew nothing of their physical goings on, but always maintained their innocence in the aftermath of the attack on Black Mariah. She would have known about this, surely... Rumors grew that she struggled to take the pressure and strain of the gangland war, as so much of her support network, family and friends were murdered in cold blood. She emerged a changed woman after the ceasefire, the best and the worst of all the Roberts family, the Choir and the Angels stood for. She is icy cold and almost apathetic at first, but a vicious, violent streak lies not too far beneath. People say that she is too damaged to accept peace. Rose herself is inclined to agree with that statement, although she often wonders how people sleep without dreaming of the dead.

Backpack:
-Handgun
-2 magazines
-First Aid Kit
-Water Purification
-Rope
-Wooden 2x4

//

So begins...

Rose Ellison's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rose Ellison
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Rose Ellison woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. She remained as she was for a moment or two, as her panicked mind slowly recognized her surroundings, breathing the tiniest sigh of relief to see that she was alone. No attackers. No witnesses. She glanced sideways at the clock as slid out of bed. Four am. A reasonably good night's sleep then. The so called commander caught a glance of herself in her mirror; a shaking, sweaty wreck of a human being. Maybe good was taking it a step too far, but at least she hadn't cried again. Red eyes and blotchy cheeks were harder to cover up than some people might lead you to believe.
The gun that she clutched in her sleep was the last thing to be put down as she entered the icy cold comfort of the shower.

Rose was once said to be the only innocent party in the Ellison family. She was a criminal, yes, a member of the Choir even, but her crimes never involved pulling a trigger or sticking a knife in between somebody's ribs. Nobody was hurt by the electronic transfer of money, at least not directly. The war that had left almost all of her family dead, and the rest broken far beyond repair, had affected the youngest member of the Choir in ways far deeper than she wanted to admit. Killing was not something that was natural to her, and it took her such a long time to accept that it was 'normal'. It was essential to her survival, to prove to her brothers that she didn't need their protection and mollycoddling. Not anymore. Her brothers. Michael.

The shower was slammed off, Rose's face scrubbed vigorously with a rough towel. She didn't have time for that, not now. Not for his bloodied and battered body falling to the floor as Adam and James dragged her with them, an attempt to honor his last words. Take care of her.
The gun was picked up as soon as the towel was secured around her body. She had her mother's body once; feminine and voluptuous, but even her physical self had changed, becoming leaner and more muscular as time wore on. If she had somehow missed the horrors of the war, then things could have been different. There was little doubt in Rose's mind that she would have fitted right in again, only this time she might be accepted for a reluctance to fight.
She couldn't afford many of those days anymore.

Rose dressed comfortably, knowing for well that she couldn't go back to sleep. She chose a figure hugging black t-shirt, jeans that were once a matching shade of black, but were well faded with age and use. She shrugged on an over-sized jacket for extra warmth. The weather was unpredictable, but she was definitely going to need a jacket going out at this hour. She put an extra fully loaded handgun in her jacket pocket for good measure. You could never be too careful, even at this hour. Lastly she tied her hair up into a messy ponytail, slamming the door behind her as she left, heading out into the streets.

It was virtually deserted at this hour; the day-folk not up yet, and the night-owls finding somewhere to sleep for the day. Old habits died hard. Rose found herself turning up the collar on her coat, shivering slightly with the chill in the morning air. After a short distance she froze, twisting around sharply and aiming the gun at the source of the footsteps behind her.