Description
Ragged, hunted looking. Her clothes are hand-me-downs and her other equipment old, her hair hasn't been washed for several days now and her eyes flicker uncertainly.
Personality
Formerly somewhat sombre and polite, now she has a ragged edge about her, she no longer seems able to trust, and receiving something for free is considered almost a trap. Her happiness of the former life has fled, and now she is an outcast and on the run, unable to fully escape.
Equipment
One pistol, almost out of ammo. A couple of empty ammo clips and a knife. A few portions of random food she's saving up and a diary filled with her good memories, permenantly locked.
History
Amelia, born on the streets and taken into an orphanage at a young age. She grew up to the strictures of the nuns there, eventually being adopted into a kindly family of the upper middle class. Things went from good to better, even when she became a part of the local 'enforcers'. A mafia like group in which her adopted father was a very influential member. To put it simply, she was happy with her lot, and satisfied that she was living up to her father's expectations, she even made a best friend in her 'group'. A ragged young boy who was rather happy go lucky.
This was good for her, and she seemed full of life. The bright groomed to be ambassador of the group due to her almost charismatic magnetism. But then her father was killed by a rival group, and war in the streets broke out, over 18 now she joined the front line, killing and destroying the homes of those involved in the death of her beloved father. Until, that is, one of the last remaining of the enemy hid themselves as a staff of the orphanage. Conflicted, Amelia could not decide, until she decided to let that one man go to save the orphanage from destruction. The only person she told was the ragged boy who was her friend, not romantically, but platonically.
He told the superiors, and they, angered that a daughter of their esteemed associate would try to stop their will, went ahead and did it. She arrived on the scene just in time to witness the last nun being knifed to death by the hitmen of the group. She shot two of them before they escaped, but the police found her on the scene and blamed her for the murders that happened. She was on the run from the law. The groups contacts in the police egged the chase onwards, and let the other underground groups know that a traitor was headed their way. She is now trapped between the law and crime, and she cannot escape.
So begins...
Amelia quickly rolled up the half ruined sleeping bag, quickly packing up the few possessions she had with her into her small rucksack. The woods were good for her, quiet, with almost no-one around. The great forests of England was what these woods reminded her of. Home. Scotland was actually her home, but she'd lived in England with her surrogate family as long as she could remember, now she had travelled far away, rejecting her past.
Would she ever be able to return? Unlikely, all she was doing was stretching out this chase as long as she could, until she could finally go no further. Whether it was hunger or a bullet that finally snuffed her life, she would eventually find out, but she had no illusions that she would survive this dogchase, even though she'd hopped the English Channel.
She stood up with and air of indifference, the pack slipping easily onto her shoulders as she stands up, turning to make her way through the woods. Another day, another step. She had to keep moving, forever striding onwards to find another place to hide while she stayed away from her followers. Her chasers. Maybe she could stay in this forest for another day, another moment in which she can hold on to peace. To the last fragment of her life until she finally dropped dead.
Scurrying from tree to tree, Amelia knew how to hide and sneak in the woodlands. A keen ear could hear her, but anything less would never know of her passing. Her hand was eternally on her gun at her side, there was only five bullets left, and she couldn't get any new ones, she couldn't afford to waste them. She paused at a copse, something warning her that she wasn't fully alone. Back pressed against the tree, she slowly filtered the natural sounds out, finally hearing the slow patter of feet. Not a loud person, so someone used to moving quietly. Had they found her already?
She flicked off the safety on her gun, pulling out a fragment of a mirror. Shading it in her hand so that it wouldn't reflect the light, she reached up and held it behind some branches so she could see through the twigs relatively easily using the reflection, but it would be difficult to locate the shaded mirror in amongst the scrub. Time to see who was tracking her.
The breathing grew tight, Amelia only just holding the mirror perfectly still to watch this person. They had jerked their head towards the scrub, but seemed to have passed it off as nothing more than an animal. Damn, what was Gerogin going to stop at? He now had FBI! What in this damned world was the FBI doing after her? She breathed deeply, it was nothing more than normal, one shot and they would be dead, then she'd only have four shots. Unless she got lucky and the agent had some bullets on them, then it would be a lucky day for the runaway girl. Her hand tightened on her gun, it wouldn't take much movement to alert a professional. And ... What?!?
Amelia almost goggled as Natalie begins to spout something random about hair as she tucks it behind her ear. Her eyes narrowed. Were they trying to get her to lower her guard? The revolver in her hand was brought up to next to her head as she continued to watch, her heart beat fast as it always did when she was about to fight, she just had to find a moment in which the Agent was looking another way.... The mirror would wobble slightly, due to her speeding up of heart rate as she struggled to control herself.
She tensed her right leg, the agent was getting closer, and although her clothing was inocuous enough you could never trust what an agent had hidden on their persona. For all she knew Natalie's pen was a dangerous weapon, why else would she wave it around like that? If that was the case, could she use it faster than Amelia could let off a bullet? She couldn't hesitate, who knew what inhuman speed this one contained, what other reason would she have for not going in a group? Everyone else chasing Amelia was in a group because of the danger that this girl had...
More nonsense. That girl seemed to know a lot, it was almost as if she were lecturing a group of students that were with her! Surely an act of insanity to make targets underestimate her. All of this building up in her mind, this potential monster that a FBI agent was, had Amelia actually nervous. After all, she'd only dealt with downtown thugs and general people, policemen of a more backwater variety. No-one of high quality, why shouldn't she expect something superhuman? Her breathing quickened, her heart hammered. She dropped the small piece of mirror as she dove out of hiding, she couldn't afford to use more than one bullet so she span in midair, firing where she had memorized her target to be before dropping into a roll and hopefully reaching another lot of foliage before checking to see what the result had been. The aim was right between the Agent's eyes, although she might easily have not been hit.
She paused, watching the agent. She was immobolized, so Amelia had nothing to worry about immediately, she stood up, keeping the gun aimed at Natalie as she retrieves her small piece of glass and approaches the agent. The tattered pants and stained and ripped t-shirt told a story of constant running and panic, the rips meant that she had used the shirt for bandages. The hard look was mixed parts despair, for her having to leave this beautiful forest so soon, and mixed part anger and detirmination.
"Wha' did Gerogin offer your people in return for me. Why cannae ye leave me alone!" She bursts out the gun aimed dead level with Natalie's head. Desperation in every tone of her body. She knew she could never escape, but it would be good if for once she got a reason as why the police and such were so ready to hear the ganster's side of the story.
Amelia paused, almost replying to the hungry question. Yes, she was hungry. Very hungry. She constantly rationed herself to make sure she didn't run out of food, not soon at any rate. But she wouldn't let that distract her. This witchy FBI agent was not only denying knowing Amelia, but also was trying to insinuate that she wasn't chasing her. She knew better than that. "Always your kind is chasing mae, do naet think I dunnae know your after me. Now tell me why!"
Her eyes once again flickered to the pen, why was it so important, was it some kind of technological shield?
Amelia threw her hands up in exasperation, conceding defeat on the front that this woman could certainly outmanouver her in the art of words. "Your people, why do thae do what Gerogin wants?" She asks, annoyedly. He gun was no longer trained on Natalie, but rather was just waved around in exaspiration. She was not bothering to do anything about the bandaging unless Natalie couldn't do it for herself. This was the first chance for Amelia to get answers, she wasn't going to have her 'hostage' bleed to death before she got answers.
She muttered to herself for a moment, trying to get her mind around a sudden, foreign, concept. The frustration had been real, not feigned, and the lack of knowledge... Maybe this lady wasn't after her? Was it possible she'd shot someone who was innocent? That... That didn't go down so well. Her eyes went downcast as she thought about it, her hair slowly forming a curtain. "The police, thae're always after me... always. Gerogin has influence with them, I'm not sure how." She replies, her voice containing odd traces of remorse.
Looking up after reflecting for a moment she hesitantly reached out her hands, then more confidently took the cloth from Natalie and wound it expertly around the injury, pulling a couple of ripped strips that probably were originally from her shirt from her backpack to secure the arm with.
"Gerogin was mae fathers best friend, he runs the town I used to live in. I ... did something he didnae like, and has had me chased.. forever chased." She bowed her head for a moment, the crushing despair that those memories brought was evident in her voice for a moment before she stood up. "Come, we can camp for a moment, but in a more sheltered spot." She said, offering an arm to help the injured FBI agent along. She was still suspicious that Natalie was after her, but that would reveal itself more easily if she pretended to trust her.
As they stumbled onwards, something a little like awe coloured the face of the scottish girl as she listened to Natalie spout yet another fact. "Where did ye learn so much?" She asked, not a little impressed. "I'd never be able to remember aw that." She adds, shaking her head as the stepped through the underbrush, at the mention of the police her eyes flicked back and forth, Natalie can feel her tensing and sort of scrunching up. "I didnae do anything else than oppose Gerogin. I didnae do anything else." She hisses, the accent of her homeland coming through thicker.
She slowed down her pace at the last question, almost stopping as she once again paused, looking at the ground. "He tried ... to destroy something. Something I would not let him destroy." She whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, before beginning to walk again, the momentary weakness that had been in her eyes now back to the solid look that Natalie had seen when she first shot her, and when threatening her. Again they were walking, Amelia seemingly quite familiar with this part of the forest.
"Here." She mutters as pulls them inside a mediumly sized copse, with enough coverage that it would be hard to find without knowing it was there. Amelia, however, obviously knew it was there as she led Natalie in before leaning her against a tree. She quickly went about making a small, shielded, fire and beginning to boil some water. Preparing some new bandages for the wound, she also kept her silence.
Amelia merely nodded as she cut away the last lot of bandages and the clothes around the wound, before washing it over and binding it anew with the cloths, it seemed that if nothing else this girl seemed to know her way around treating an injury, no doubt because of past experience. She eventually finished, leaning back, standing up, and walking away to the other side of the copse. "They killed my father. But even then... I couldn't let him destroy my past." She mutters as she crouches down on the other side, poking the fire with a metal rod.
"That wasn't how I was taught. The police, they were corrupt." She knew that her group was a large part of the problem, but then, they were long corrupt before she came along, it wasn't like she had actually done anything wrong in that regard herself. But the way she gripped her gun at this point gave a slight indication to what her actual reaction, rather than going to the police, had been. To think what the two empty cases of bullets would tell, a story not uncommon.
"Go deimhin, is féidir liom." She replies to the question about Gaelic, quite obviously could speak it, considering she replied in it. "You are wanted dead too, then?" Is the next question, her concerned eyes going over the body of the woman she had shot. Unnecessarily. Her paranoia had gotten the better of her, or maybe it was just that she couldn't believe that someone would be in the same vicinity of her without trying to catch her.
Amelia nods slowly, her eyes narrowed as she stands off to the side. "I've had more." She mutters quietly. "Too many to count, too many to remember." She slumps down to a sitting position looking away from Natalie, with her back to the small shielded fire. "It almost got to a point that anyone that saw me was after me for one reason or another. All the freedom I had, back then...." She trails off, the sentance unfinished but an almost crushing despair flavouring all the words as she hunches up before turning her head back to Natalie. "You could call the hospital, if you have a mobile. I'll be long gone by the time they arrive."
Amelia's face reflected complete and utter surprise, and possibly just a bit of hope sparkling in the corner of her eye, quickly stamped on. Her face closed after just a moment, back to the more expressionless look. "But I did do somethin' wrong. I killed. It may have been in reaction to what had happened, but I have done that." Her voice was gravelly, but does not hold much remorse for those she had shot. "Gerogin tried to destroy the place I came from, to get one woman who was hiding in there, and I don't know how he has influence over the police." She spits, "Corrupt to tha' core, is what I reckon."
If she had've been thinking about it, Amelia would've wondered what exactly inspired her to trust Natalie with her past actions. She wouldn't've known why she trusted the FBI agent at all, but for some reason, finally given a chance to trust and reason to not suspect it was a trap, Amelia did trust her. "Nae in Scotland, I lived in England. I was born into a Scottish family, but I cannae remember much of them. They died when I was young, an' I lived in an Orphanage til I was adopted by a man of local influence." She paused, already seeming to relive the past.
"He was part o' Gerogin's group. They ran the town from the background, underworld connections and all tha', I was a part o' that until they tried to destroy the Orphanage. But I got there too late, They'd --" She pauses, taking a deep shuddering breathe as she holds herself back from actually crying, sitting like that for a moment. "They'd killed them aw, even the wee ones, to find one woman. So I shot them, everyone who stood there gloating over their victory. They all died, and I dunnae regret it." She finishes, rocking herself backwards and forwards as she slowly composes herself again. The tone of her voice had gone from almost crying to steely, like metal, at the end.
She just nodded as she sat for a moment, her voice quieter as she replied from where she huddled for the moment. "Tha' one woman was the last of a group that had tried to take the town over, I fought against them as hard as everyone else. She was hidden in the orphanage, and the nuns where hidin' her. Gerogin decided to just destroy the whole buildin' rather than doing anything else to get tha' woman out. The easier way."