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Celia Rosemary Ferrara

Soul like fire, tongue like a whip, soft heart.

0 · 384 views · located in Uncharted Galaxy

a character in “Location Unknown: Mission Failed”, as played by Rhasslairiel


Forename - Cecilia Rosemary

Surname - Ferrara

Gender - Female

Age - 28

Country of Birth - Sicily, Italy

Weight - 150

Height - 5'7"

Appearance - Image

Rank/Position - Research Department, Science Reporter on Staff

Personality - Although she tries to be the delicate, she is in every way just the outspoken, stubborn, secretive, and serious woman who raised her.

Equipment and Items - The only thing she really carries around besides her science equipment would be the large locket around her neck. She never speaks about it though.

Goals - advance in medicine, stay as far away from love as possible

History - She had not always wanted to go into science, but upon the death of her grandmother, Rosemary, who died from a rare disease, Celia has made it her passion to find a way for no one to ever have to go through that pain again. She hopes that the experiments and research that is being done on the ship can help her do that. Outside of her grandmother's death, pretty much nothing is known about Celia's life.

Theme song (What song you believe fits them) - Stronger (What Doesn't Kill You) - Kelly Clarkson

So begins...

Celia Rosemary Ferrara's Story

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Character Portrait: Celia Rosemary Ferrara
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8.00a.m- Demeter Medical Facilities - Celia Ferrara's office

The yellow tinted light emitting from the lamp on her desk cast shadows throughout her little office. She didn't like the bright lights in the ceiling. They made the room look depressing and far too bright. She missed the Sicily sun, which had gifted her with an even better tan than her naturally olive skin had. But here, without it, it was apparent that her skin was turning whiter. She would be home soon, though, and, despite the lack of natural light, she was honored to be a part of this ship. It had truly been a dream come true when they had told her about the opportunity. Finally something useful she could do. She had worked in a hospital in Italy for 3 years, but research had always been something she wanted to do so much more.

Celia reached down and picked up her coffee. She rested one hand on her hip before she took a little swig of the bitter, black liquid before nearly spitting it out all over her desk. It had gone cold. Disgustosa. She began opening the drawers of her desk, pulling out papers and a few old possessions she had kept in her drawer. An old, wrinkled, yellowing piece of paper caught her eye and she pulled it out. It was a stack of letters, attached together with a long, white piece of cord. Sighing, she stood up from the chair that she had been in and walked over to the trash can, flipping open the lid open and, with hesitation, dropped them inside. But it didn't take any of the memories with them.

Her white lab coat swished around her thin legs, clad in black slacks and black boots, as she walked back to her desk and, with a bit more fury than before, began taking her things out and organizing them into piles to take off the ship and back home.

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Character Portrait: Celia Rosemary Ferrara
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8:30 Demeter's Cafe- Celia Rosemary Ferrara

The large book balanced in her hands, and an apple wedged between her teeth. Celia walked with a firm grace and steady path as she weaved through the people. One eye she kept trained on her surroundings, the obstacles and whatnot, and she read at the same time. The apple was beginning to cause her mouth to fill with saliva, and she took it out, balancing the book in one hand. She had left her labcoat in her office, hanging lonely on the back of her chair. Now she wore a black tank top and black slacks, black shoes, and a white button up shirt that she wore open over the tank top.

In all honesty, Celia knew that there were people aplenty on the ship that didn't like her. Thought she was cold, quiet but beautiful, didn't have many friends, a loner. Celia was here for her work and nothing else, and she made that quite clear. She made no moves toward any of the men, even though more than a few had come onto her. This only puzzled them because there was no wedding ring on her finger, and she didn't have a boyfriend or anything back home. She could dance with them, drink with them, but the moment any affection was displayed toward her, or any sexual desire, it was as if a switch had activated in her mind, and she shut off and walked away. Celia shook these thoughts out of her head, they were disrupting her reading and walking, and made her way into the Cafe. She quietly ordered a coffee before throwing the apple into the trash. She took her cup and walked toward a table in the corner, face still buried in the book.

The way back had been the quickest for her, but maybe that was because no matter how much she longed for the sun on her face, the doctor and researcher didn't know yet if she was ready to go to her grandmother's apartment and start cleaning out all the belongings, disrupting all the memories. Celia's grandmother, Rosemary, had died not but two weeks before she left Earth, and Celia, amidst the tears and the further retreat from human interaction, had not gone to her grandmother's to clean out her things yet. She had only entered this profession, and agreed to even step foot on this ship because of her anyways. Rosemary had been very, very sick, and as a last chance hope, Celia had gotten into this field of science. She didn't call herself a scientist though. She was a doctor. She had worked as a surgeon, an MD, and before all that a nurse since she had graduated from med school. But Celia had never even wanted to do that, although she enjoyed it. She wanted to be a photographer. However, her parents, when she was young, always drilled it into her mind that she wanted to be a doctor, as her father was a famous surgeon. Celia loved medicine and science, but her passion was photography. However, what were her parents to think of their daughter who wanted to take pictures for the rest of her life instead of doing something useful for the world. She hadn't argued, her mother had been very sick, most of Celia's life, and she knew to just nod and smile and make them proud, regardless of herself. Wasn't that what a daughter was for anyways?

Ceclia sat down in the chair and set her book down on the table in front of her. The cover shut, someone could look and see that it was a history of the photograph. She sipped her coffee and looked out the window, resting one knee on the table in front of her, and leaning back in her chair. She didn't really look at anyone, only looked out the window and contemplated.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Celia Rosemary Ferrara Character Portrait: Renée Ortega Character Portrait: Daniel Haley Character Portrait: Xifeng Zhou Character Portrait: Silvia
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#, as written by Vyral
8:54am - Wg Cdr. Renée Ortega, Demeter’s Café

Renée took the biscuit and took a small bite from the corner. It was good, and she couldn’t resist a small smile. These days it was rare that she tasted anything but ration bars and dehydrated pastes. She turned to face Xifeng, who was smiling politely at her.

“If anything the delay is doing wonders for my schedule. Now that the crew are all set for leave my only job is to keep people rotating through the motions. It’s been months since I’ve actually found the time to come down here and grab a proper meal.” She nodded thoughtfully, and took another chunk off of the biscuit. “Don’t let the crew know that is all it is, though. Can’t have people getting soft just because home is in sight, can we?”

She moved to stand, hoping to slip into the queue for food whilst it was quiet. The ship shuddered. A wrenching sound echoed throughout the café; it reminded her of a widows caws and her stomach sank. The floor tilted violent and the Wing Commander twisted sharply, one leg caught behind her chair leg, and hit the round hard. Overhead the lights flashed periodically. She pushed herself up slowly onto her knees and tried to gather her bearings. Everything played in slow-motion, her mind only able to comprehend snap-shots of information delivered by the flashes of artificial light puncturing the darkness. People were strewn everywhere, bodies tossed like rag-dolls by the force of the turbulence. Tables and chairs had slid of toppled over to bury helpless people beneath them. The smell of smoke was wafting from the kitchens.

Darkness. She became conscious of the sounds: The groaning of the stressed hull; louder, the screams of the wounded or the frightened. Beneath this were the softer moans of the dying. Desperate whimpers of hopeless gasps as people were crushed beneath the weight of furniture of people alike. Boots scuffled along the floor. They squeaked as they lost grip in a pool of fresh blood. Voices called out, dazed and paniced.

A flash of light, blinding in intensity. Renée blinked rapidly. On film things came into focus slowly, as though the mind were piercing a thick fog. To Renée everything came in a flash too fast to comprehend. Chaos. Objects were thrown everywhere. People struggled to gain their feet. Uniforms smeared with wasted food; coffee; blood. Staggering, crew and civilians alike meandered through the maze, tripping over chair legs and collapsing to the ground. The crushed others beneath them, or trod on those too weak to call out. A thin layer of grey smoke covered everything.

Darkness. The deprivation of light was so total that Renée almost panicked. She caught herself just in time. Something warm was running down her face, coating her lips and chin. A dry tongue licked lips cautiously and recoiled at the strong metallic taste. Blood. She wiped one sleeve roughly across her mouth. A throbbing pain was beginning but she forced it down. Tried to collect her thoughts. She had to act.

Another pulse of light illuminated the cafe. Renée stood, using the table beside her as a brace. She scanned the crowd quickly – she noticed Xifeng was nowhere to be seen, lost in the tangle of bodies. She spat a mouthful of thick blood and cupped her hands around her mouth.

“Listen up!” Her voice sounded small, meagre when compared to the cacophony of noise filing the café. She took a deep breath. Tried again. “EVERYBODY LISTEN!” This ytime her voice scythed through the noise. She saw a few heads turn to face her. Those of their feet began staggering in her direction. “All able bodied personnel are to move to the rear of the café! Start laying out the tables along the wall. You,” She spotted a staggering man wearing the insignia of a Major. “Get every non-critical civilian off to one side and out of the way once the tables are set. Every able bodied enlisted is to begin moving all the critically wounded onto the tables and clearing away the debris to one side. Put the dead at the kitchen end, away from everyone else. Send any medical personnel even first aid, down to me.” She spoke quickly, but the Major nodded and rushed to follow his orders. He began shouting commands to those nearest him, raising his hands and gesturing.

Darkness. Less panic this time; people had someone in control and they simply clung to each other and followed the voices. Renée herself began heading towards the rear of the room, to where the tables would be set up. The lights flashed on again; emergency generators whirred. Secondary lighting was back on.

People moved quickly. In minutes those military crew still functioning had herded most of the walking wounded civilians off to one side and had them sitting on the ground, out of the way. Many were crying, smeared in blood and food. They had calmed though. They stared about themselves wide-eyed, taking in the scene. Tables were being set up around Renée and the first people were being laid out. These cried out; civilian and military alike. Head wounds, broken limbs. Some had cutlery sticking from thighs, stomachs and necks. Glass had blinded more than a few. Burns came in next. The stench of smouldering flesh turned her stomach, and the sight of the mottled skin with charred clothing sticking to the flesh made her dizzy. She gripped the edge of a table hard.

“Major!” He turned towards her. He was a young man; early twenties. A trickle of blood ran from his temple. “Good work.”

“Sir! Thankyou, sir.” He nodded and hurried back to the fray. At the far end of the room the pile of dead was growing quick. At least a dozen bodies. At least twenty more people were still laying in cafes middle whilst people attempted to dig them out safely. A trio of people rushed towards her. The first of those with any medical experience. She set them to work immediately. Without any supplies they were ordered to treat only those they could save.

Head still thundering painfully, Renée moved to the nearest communications route. She pressed the button with fingers crossed. “This is Wing Commander Ortega, location café. The situation is serious. Requesting immediate medical help: dozens of wounded, at least fifteen dead. The café can be used as a medical station for this deck. Request supplies immediately. Sitrep requested. Awaiting further orders.” She logged it for the bridge and waited with the phone pressed tightly to her ear.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Celia Rosemary Ferrara Character Portrait: Renée Ortega Character Portrait: Xifeng Zhou Character Portrait: Velia Flynn
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#, as written by girlwt
Cafeteria: Xifeng Zhou 8:54

While awaiting the Wing Commander's answer to her question, she felt the ship move, "Are we going somewhere," was the question that got out before Haley's announcement Attention Crew. Medical is to be on standby, and all projects are to be halted and put under guard until further notice by orders of the Captain. Also, Engineering is to be cleared, but on standby, in case of emergency". He then added "And Tomas, Captain has ordered you to stay on the ship until further notice. If you want, you can take it up with him. Until then, prepare for code red. All hands on the ready"

That was a very nice warning everyone got there..."Well please excuse me for a second Wing Commander."

She left to warn the kitchen crew, and to see if she could locate her boss. His office door was locked, and if he was in there, he wasn't responding to her knock.

She came out of the kitchen again as the ship started shaking, from outside the window there seemed to be nothing wrong, except that something flashed outside. She kind of wondered if she was the only one that noticed and her heart skipped a beat. There was chaos everywhere, tables and chairs were going flying, and civilians were screaming and shouting. "Everyone away from the windows," she yelled as she motioned everyone away from outside wall toward the interior wall, following the Wing Commander's lead. The kitchen crew barely made it out before a loud noise could be heard from the area. The smoke from the kitchen was put out by the sprinkler system, which thank the heavens was still working, because all they needed right now was a fire right. Xifeng tried to account for everyone, but where was her boss. "Fei Wu," she slipped back to her native tongue to curse the man for being a good for nothing. She again tried to get back into the kitchen, but something was jamming the door from the other side. A shock from the door jolted her from her position against a table someone had placed there. The cafe was the worse possible place to hid right now, but then again she wasn't in charge. She heard a moan next to her, and noticed one of the fighter pilots had been several injured. She crawled over, and noticed alot of blood coming from a wound her in side. She took off her apron and tied it tightly around the pilots side, however she knew if the medical teams didn't get there fast they were going to get there to late.

She turned to the kitchen crew, "Help whomever you guys can, there are extra supplies that might be useful in the storage closet." She turned to the others who wouldn't understand her English, and asked them to do the same. Out of all the civilians on board, they had the most diverse in the kitchen, which provided for some hilarious communcations problems, so it became useful to learn some phrases here and there.

The electricity started to flicker, and sparks flew from one of the appliances, people were doing the best they could to get out of under cover as the Wing Commander suggested. The second shake of the ship was more violent, panals overhead started to shake and then complete darkness. There seemed to be silence in the room, even the wounded were quiet as if everyone feared the worse.

Emergency lights came on, and she didn't know if that was a good thing or not. What actually military crew were there trying to help the civilians on the floor. Xi narrowed her eyes, and there was this look of hatred in her eyes, that was barely noticeable if one wasn't looking right at her. She shook off the feeling and got to her feet wincing as she figure that she had probably cracked a rib. The pain was bareable, though the smell of burning flesh threatened to make her sick. "Douglas, is the bottle of burn solution still in the storage closet." The man in question turned to her with the bottle in hand. The stuff was homemade and worked wonders on burn wounds (which in the kitchen might happen more then she would admit too). "Only use it one people with the less severe wounds, until medical teams get here. She looked toward the Wing Commander, hoping at least she hadn't been to hurt to bad, but the Wing Commander was all business trying to get a hold of whomever was on the bridge.

And she hoped whomever was driving the ship knew what they were doing.

She turned trying to help out the best she could also as there seemed to be a lull in the action for a few brief seconds.

Ship Time 9:10

The Wing Commander's communcation wouldn't go unanswered, "Wing Commander, medical personal already in route to your location, please be aware of incoming wounded from Engineering, the area has been asked to evacute, will give you more details when present."

The lifts were out, so everyone was taking the stairs to the bottom level of the ship, there were wounded everywhere. The medical bay already had an influx of patients, so it was impossible to ask everyone to help.

Velia Flynn just hoped that they got there before anyone else died

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Celia Rosemary Ferrara
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((sorry for taking forever. life kinda got hit by a train. won't happen again))

The lurch that went through the ship sent Celia flying out of the back of her chair, and the table to follow. Her back slammed into the wall that she was near, and the doctor didn't have enough time to dodge before the table went flying right into her abdomen. She let out a cry, and felt her ribs crack. Stars blinked in front of Celia's eyes as the pain shot through her, and she felt warm blood running down the side of her face from where her skin was split above her eye. Celia, with a grunt, shoved the table off of her and watched as it rolled away from her. She followed it with her eyes, and movement caught her eye. While others were herding up the wounded and putting them in one place, Celia stood to her feet unsteadily, teeth clenched. She looked over, and saw a couple, lying on the ground, a little girl next to them. Celia's eyebrows furrowed and she made her way over to them. She placed fingers on the couple's necks, and sighed, a shudder going through her. Dead. Blunt head trauma, it looked like. She moved onto the little girl--who looked about five--hands shaking as she did so, but when she reached her hand out toward the girl's neck, the little blonde groaned and rolled a little bit. Celia's breath, that she just realized she had been holding, came out in a whoosh, and she lifted the girl into her arms. With a glance back at what appeared to be her parents, she walked over to the group.

She was content with waiting for the all clear from someone, but with a glance at some of the people who were sitting there, bleeding out, she knew that there wasn't time for that. She decided that she would take them now. Some of these people were going to die if she did not, orders be damned.

"Okay," she said, her voice loud and commanding, and she waited until all the people had looked at her, including those who were not wounded. "We need to get all of you to the hospital wing on the ship. Those of you that aren't as badly hurt need to help those you can." she turned her eyes toward those who worked at the cafe, who were still standing there, or the officers who were there as well. "If none of you are wounded, I'd appreciate your help as well." the girl was heavy in her arms, and although Celia was very strong, the pain in her ribs threatened to knock her out.

"Alright, come on," she said in a loud and commanding tone. "Let's go."

Celia kicked open the door with her foot, earning another groan of pain from her, and she took a sharp right. It wasn't too far to the hospital wing, but the walk seemed to take forever. A couple more lurches, not nearly as bad as the first, went through the ship, and Celia checked behind her to make sure that everyone was following. She stopped once to help an old man to his feet, but for the most part people were making it along just fine. "Keep going straight til you see the sign," she said to everyone, the girl still in her arms. An old woman and her husband were falling behind, and she needed to help them.

"Are you all right?" she asked them, and the husband gave her a pained look. His wife was sagging in her steps, and her breath was coming out in sharp gasps.

"I think she had a heart attack," the man said in a heavily accented voice. Celia frowned deeply and offered her shoulders to the woman. The older woman put one arm around Celia's shoulders, and the other around her husbands, and ever so slowly, they made their way toward the crowd ahead of them.

When they finally reached the hospital wing, Celia looked around for any of the other scientists, researchers, doctors. Anyone who could help her. She felt the woman's arm taken off of her and her husband guide her toward a bed. Another jolt of pain shot through Celia, this time sharper and more painful than the others, and she blacked out, the last thing she knew was her arms tightening around the girl, cradling her before they hit the floor.