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Emma Redding

"Don't even start with me, bitch. You won't like the consequences."

0 · 629 views · located in Frankfort City, USA

a character in “The Hooded Vigilante”, as played by Mela

Description

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Full Name: Emmaline "Emma" Taylor Redding

Role: The Sister

Age: 17

Personality:
Forget 12 year old, nice little Emma, who did everything she could to make people happy. She doesn't exist anymore. Circumstances have changed her into someone much different, someone neither her father nor brother would recognize if they ever came back. 17 year old Emma is a girl with many feelings, but no one to tell them to. She's a girl who's hurting inside out, who's aching for attention she hasn't gotten properly since she was 12, she's a girl who's lost and doesn't know what to do with herself. She's someone who stopped caring about the world and herself. Emma, by all accounts, is lonely.

Deep inside her, part of the old Emma still lives; she still feels sympathy, she still loves unconditionally, but she doesn't show it - she'd rather hide it because she believes it's only going to hurt her more. Instead the persona Emma shows the world, is of someone who hates everything around her. She has countless acquaintances, but no one to call a friend, and she specifically ruins anything good that comes into her life because she doesn't believe it's going to stay anyway, and to be entirely truthful, she's not sure she deserves anything good anymore. She parties harder than most, and when she's drunk or high, that's when she's at her happiest. At all other times, Emma is miserable, alone and broken.

All in all, she's a guarded girl, often considered a two-faced bitch. She protects herself before anyone or anything else, and so she's become quite selfish, and very ruthless in her ways. She can be manipulating to the point where you're unsure when she's telling the truth and when she's not. Most of all, however, Emma is bitter and angry, oftentimes both cold and hurtful towards the few people who actually attempt to care about her. She doesn't need their help, she thinks, believing that she is meant to be the way she is. Why else would all this have happened to her?

History:
Mere 5-6 years ago, Emma was your average 12 year old. No, she was a rich, clever 12 year old, but nothing about her screamed "trouble waiting to happen". Nothing about her made anyone think she would ever turn out much like her brother. In fact, Emma did well in school, she did her homework, she listened to her parents, almost never got into trouble, and most of all, being only 12 and still highly naive, Emma looked up to big brother Mason. To Emma, their little family was perfect and she couldn't have asked for more.

Then, however, Mason was sent off to join the marines. It crushed Emma's perfect bubble, her brother no longer being there and with the following pronouncement of him being dead, everything changed for good. Her mother was falling apart, and then the unthinkable happened; her father passed too. Suddenly the world was a different place to the young girl, because the naivety a child her age should still possess, disappeared, leaving only hurt and anger; anger at the world, anger at her fate, and anger even at her brother and father for leaving her. But mostly, Emma blamed herself for being so completely helpless. It altered the way Emma behaved, because she simply stopped caring. The world had decided to shit on her, she decided, and she couldn't do anything about it, so she might as well stop trying. It wasn't so much a choice made consciously, but more of a logical deduction made by her feelings.

For the next 5 years Emma went down the exact same road her brother had gone, completely turning from the innocent girl she had been before everything happened, unsure of where else to head. With her mother completely out of mental reach, Emma felt alone and left whenever she was home, so instead of spending any time there, she would stay anywhere but. Sometimes with random guys she had only just met, sometimes with friends. Wanting, aching for the attention of a mother who seemed to be anywhere but with her daughter, even when they were in the same room, Emma did all in her power to get it. At first she had tried in the good way; she had brought home good report cards, she had baked, cooked, she had cleaned. Everything to earn some kind of attention. When that failed, she turned around.

All things considered, Emma only became worse. Alcohol began turning into drugs about a year ago, often even mixing the two. She's become slightly addicted to meth, though she won't admit it to herself, nor anyone else, but she needs it because it makes her feel better. She feels less like a complete and utter disaster whenever she's high. The media says she has become the female version of her deceased brother, only worse - that she is following in his misguided footsteps, and truly, that might be part of Emma's agenda, because after all, Mason always got all the attention he needed. Or perhaps her only reason is that she needs to dull the pain of a broken family.

Half a year ago, Emma was raped. Usually Emma would be considered a slut, someone who lets in anyone whenever she's wasted or high on something, but this guy just felt wrong to her. She had danced with him briefly, but had then moved on, not liking the way his hands were wandering on private parts of her body in the middle of the dancefloor. He had been cheesy and desperate, not Emma's type whatsoever. So once she left the club, stumbling around in her heels, intoxicated beyond compare, her gaze slurred, he had told her he would help her home. Instead, he pulled her into an alley, making sure no paparazzi was around. Right behind the dumpster in a dirty alley, he put his hand over her mouth and pulled off her thong, shoving up her short dress hurriedly. After he was done with her, he left her in that alley, alone and more miserable than ever.

She never told anyone, and even if she had, she couldn't remember his face, so what would it help? Instead Emma pulled herself through it, now using men much like she had been used. Emma has made a game of making guys fall for her before breaking their hearts in the most horrid of ways, taking her anger out at every guy she gets the chance to. It's earned her the tabloid name "man-eater".

Other:
Tattoos:
- Left hip, but with the Greek words "Δυστυχία αγαπάει εταιρείας", which means "Misery loves company".
- Right hip.
- Back.
- Left Foot, but with her nickname "Emma", instead of "Ashley".

Piercings:
- Regular lobe ones.
- Tragus in right ear.
- Belly button.
- Nose - left side.
- Tongue.

Interests:
- Music. Emma plays the guitar quite well, and she likes to sing, but she's never sung in front of anyone before, so she has no idea she's actually rather good.
- She likes to take walks alone in the garden, watching the sunrise, preferably high on meths.
- Emma secretly loves to read. That part of her surprisingly still lives. The difference is, now she barely does it because she has trouble focusing on the letters when she's intoxicated, and let's be honest, she is most of the time.
- Puzzles. For some reason, solving big puzzles is something Emmaline quite enjoys.

So begins...

Emma Redding's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Emma Redding Character Portrait: Mason Redding Character Portrait: Russel Anderson
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#, as written by Mela
Emma watched as the crystals on the spoon she was holding began melting, the lighter she was holding beneath it effectively reducing them to liquid. She knew meth was a dangerous drug, and sometimes, when her head was clear, she even tried to stop herself from taking it, but then, at other times, she just couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t deny herself the peace of mind she needed so desperately. Especially now that Mason was home. When Emma had first learned of Mason’s return from the dead, she had been ecstatic, promising herself that she would turn a new page; that she would get well now, because her brother was home. But he had been so distant, and she felt like he didn’t really want to be there, so again, Emma had turned to comfort herself. It was the only way she knew how to deal with upset anymore; drugs and alcohol. She was definitely going out tonight, that was for sure.

Once the crystalline drug had finally melted, Emma put down both lighter and spoon, unpacking a clean syringe. She didn’t like re-using them. It made her feel like a dirty addict, and she wasn’t. Then, drawing the liquid into the plastic container, Emma took a deep breath, looking at it. No one gave a shit about her, she knew that. Emma had been using meth for the past month, and other drugs before that. Alcohol even earlier, and her mother hadn’t even cared enough to notice. She never did. And Mason, who had been home for a few days, obviously still saw her as some good little kid, as if she was still the sister he had left. Emma didn’t know if she was most angry at him, hating him for leaving her to become this… this person… or happy that he was home and alive at last, even if he barely noticed her presence. She extended her right arm, tapping the most upper vein with two fingers before pushing the needle into it, her thumb pressing down the plunger with not a sliver of hesitation. No matter what, he clearly didn’t want to be the brother she needed him to be.

Finally, Emma put the syringe back on her night table along with the spoon and lighter, looking at the three while the meth coursed through her veins, relaxing her body, her mind slipping from confusing turmoil into a steady haze, and she closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. She sat there for a while, enjoying the sensation of feeling… nothing. She simply was, nothing more, nothing less, and she didn’t care. She had told herself a long time ago to stop caring, but part of her would always remain that naïve little 12 year-old her brother still thought her to be. As for her mother, now that Mason was home, attention was even less on her – as if that could have been possible. Then young girl opened her eyes slowly once she felt completely at peace, and then got up from the bed, smoothing out her outfit for the day before walking out the door. She didn’t yet know what she was going to do; probably just out to take a walk. She’d see where that took her.

She was about to slide on her sunglasses on her way down the stairs, when she spotted Mason with Rusty. She stilled, her hand on the handle of the stairs. Frankly she was a little surprised. She watched the pair silently, but when they spoke of going out, she snorted, finally sliding on her sunglasses. Her eyes would betray her current high, so she hid them; force of habit. She walked the rest of the way down the stairs, her heels clicking harmoniously. She did stop at the foot of said stairs however, unsure of what to do with the situation. In the end, she just spoke. What did she care anyway? The words rolled easily off her tongue, her voice ringing out in a playful tone, “don’t tell me you guys are heading out without me.” Wry smile curving her lips, she then added breezily, “oh, hey Rusty.”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Emma Redding Character Portrait: Nate Anderson
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Nate woke up as the bile rose in his throat, like a bullet the nineteen year old shot from his bed, his feet pounding against the wooden floor as he ran towards the bathroom; opening the toilet lid, the contents of his brothers liquor cabinet spilt from his guts 'urgh' he groaned, mustering the energy to reach up and flush the toilet 'fucking hangovers' grumbled the teen as he pushed himself up off the floor, stumbling over to the basin. His head was spinning, still, after his possible deadly cocktail of drugs and hard liquor last night; the highs were awesome, the lows, well, they sucked. Splashing cold water on his face Nate felt a little relief, maybe getting high would ease his suffering.

Once refreshed, Nate left the bathroom, slumping back down on his bed, reaching for the already rolled joint resting on his bedside table, lighting it he brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply, repeating the ritual a couple of times until he began to feel relief. He had to laugh at himself, openly smoking a joint in his room, without even trying to conceal the evidence, anyone of his family members could walk in on him at this present moment and would be too far up their own ass to even notice let alone care, so why should he? Why should he try and hide it? Hunger filled his senses with the rumbling of his stomach, as he stumped out the roll up in the ash tray, when was the last time he ate? He doesn't remember eating last night, fuck, he doesn't remember any of last night! Dragging his weight from his bed, Nate trudged down the stairs and towards the kitchen "Rusty" he called out groggily, seeing if his brother was home, although he suspected he wasn't. His suspicions were confirmed by silence, 'probably out with Mason or Lily' he surmised opening the fridge.

Brown eyes scanning the shelves he spotted left over pizza "perfect" he smiled grabbing the slices, quickly heating them up before returning to his room. Turning on the tv he flicked through the channels before settling on family guy, he remained like that until an idea popped into his head. Grabbing his phone, the brunette searched for Emma's name in his contact list, it wasn't hard to find, 'Want to skip school today and do something fun?' he quickly punched in before sending.

Whilst waiting for a reply, Nate took the opportunity to get ready, changing into dark jeans, converse and a tee. Grabbing his keys, wallet, phone and of course a joint, he left the apartment, heading straight to the buildings garage and towards his baby an iron 883 Harley Davidson. The bike roared to life and Nate tore out of the garage, not heading in any direction just waiting until Emma text him back.