Description

Personality

Chloe is a patient, perceptive, spiritual, and imaginative individual who is considerate and sensitive to the feelings of others. Although she has been known as scattered, uninspired, unable to focus, and impractical, these traits are most assuredly not the driving forces behind the complex essence of Chloe. Having said that, Chloe is a regal, tactful, compassionate, and reliable individual who when focused can move mountains. She may display almost obsessive-compulsive workaholic traits, and seem very materialistic on the surface, but if you dig a little deeper, you will likely find that Chloe behaves this way because she feels she is accomplishing something good. Chloe has the ability to detect undercurrents that others don't detect, and then responding in an appropriate and timely fashion to the amazement of others.

Equipment

She loves to improvise. When a threatening item is nearby, it's most likely going to be used.

Distraction is a simple tool for her... Chloe has been able to master three instruments (piano, guitar, flute), hums through almost everything, spends a lot of time quietly singing to herself, and will spin stories about things that never happened, yet sound so real it's difficult to stray away once one has been pulled in. She doesn't like to distract too often, because she sees it as a defense mechanism used by those too weak to establish what they really mean.

History

FLASHBACK

The horizon was a milky violet covered in translucent orange clouds. An abandoned road stretched far ahead of her, nothing visible for miles. Behind her, was a beaten up truck, ditched at the side of the road, the red paint barely showing from the dirt and grime that had built up over the years. Inside were torn seats made of now sweltering leather. The gas tank was empty, the cooler that sat on the back seat now hung from her hands, getting heavier with every step. Her hands were sweaty, allowing the cooler to slip a little more with each breath. She felt as if she was going to die. But, to go back to the car was to give up, to start an unnecessary suicide.

Thus, she pressed on, tired as ever, but too afraid to stop and lie down. No cars passed, so the thought of hitchhiking was out. The sun moved ever higher in the consistently bluer sky, the heat was pulling water vapor from the hastily melting ice in the cooler and the sweat that coated her brow too heavily to wipe away. Her shoulders were scrunched forward, her wavy burgundy locks held back by a flimsy white ribbon. With bloodshot eyes, she surveyed the area, looking for something to provide shade that wouldn't kill her. The only things to be seen were small weed-like plants, dirt, and the unleavened gravel road that seemed to go on forever.

All hope was lost for communication. As far as she knew, her car had broken down halfway through the 20-mile detour and there were no towns to be found for another 5 miles at least. The sun would've killed her by then. Her cell phone's battery had died in the middle of the night, after searching for service for hours throughout the night. None of her family or friends knew where she was headed, and she made no attempt to tell them that she was leaving either.

She sighed and dropped the cooler, stumbling to her knees. Her callused hands wrenched the cooler open, watching as vapor rose through the air, and grabbed the water bottle nearest the bottom, where the heat hadn't attacked quite yet. Gulping down the first swallow-full, she attempted to sob and failed. The night had robbed her of more than just sleep.

The day that followed was almost unbearable. The sun grew hotter, the road appeared longer, her pace grew slower. The water was gone by the early afternoon. No signs of civilization had appeared yet, even though she felt as if she had been walking forever. The dribbles of hope of survival had diminished at an alarming rate, starting when the winds had begun again.

Sand had wrapped its way around her skull, whipping it around, partly yanking the cooler from her death grip. Her sneakers lost their traction against the gravel. Falling victim to the wind, she cursed loudly, as though anyone could hear her. She hit the ground hard. Blood appeared, though she knew not where it came from. Her eyes squeezed shut, hoping that it didn't last too long.

Shuddering from the memory, she continued on the path- staying on the gravel, hoping for something to keep her alive to arrive soon.