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Amelia Sharnock

An Irish girl running from law and crime.

0 · 759 views · located in Wing City Main Entrance

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Alasund

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 Sharnock's Story

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#, as written by Alasund
She nods at Natalie, darting over to grab the purse and bring it to Natalie. She'd only eaten in a restaurant once or twice, and so this was going to be a completely new experience for her. But most new experiences she found exciting, and this would be no different, she hoped. "How many different types of Italian food is there?"

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#, as written by Alasund
Amelia listened, nodding occasionally as the reached the hotel's door and passed through. "I've heard a lot about Italian Pasta, but not a single thing about the others." She replies, her eyes keeping a quick lookout. Even here she was careful, no matter how safe she thought she was. Her hand hovered near the gun concealed in her pocket.

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#, as written by Alasund
Amelia paused, then slowly drew the gun out of her pocket. She turned, disappearing for a moment back into the room before appearing again. There was certainly something much more tense now, the absence of the gun was something she hadn't had for a long time, and she was unused to feeling somewhat vulnerable.

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#, as written by Alasund
Amelia continued to walk beside the FBI Agent, still tense. She intentionally ignored the couple making out in the elevator, stepping in with Natalie, waiting for the doors to close. Once they sealed, and the elevator started moving, she lost a bit of the tenseness. There was no danger in an elevator, gunmen couldn't appear out of no-where here. It was one of those places that she felt safe.

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#, as written by Alasund
Her eyes widened and she looked at Natalie. How Natalie seemed to read her mind sometimes.. she didn't know. It was as amazing as the ability to spout facts on and off.
"How do they die on elevators?" She asks, curious in a almost scared way. She could imagine it if someone bombed the elevator or the building, but dieing in a normal elevator seemed a bit odd.

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#, as written by Alasund
Amelia sort of nods, although the tenseness is back as she steps out across the lobby with Natalie. Accidents were a reason for a lot of deaths these days. Amelia didn't know the exact numbers, as she wasn't able to conjure numbers like Natalie.

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#, as written by Alasund
Amelia closed her eyes on the cool air, it reminded her of rain, and she'd always enjoyed rain. She opened her eyes again, following Natalie out into the garage. "It smells like a garage?" She offered, non-plussed. Yet again her lack of experience was quite palpable, the only thing she was really experienced at was fighting and running, though mostly fighting. Not a profitable skill in this day and age.

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#, as written by Alasund
Amelia shrugged, she didn't put much thought into smells, not after she'd thrown up after her first kill. Blood and death smelt far more disgusting, and Amelia didn't really notice. "It smells of cars and car-related fluids." She replies. "It smells minorly nauseating, but only minorly." It was a minor attempt at copying Natalie's usual way of stating things, not meant in mockery but because the concise way of stating facts was impressive. Kind of like a lesser sportsman will attempt to copy a legend at the game.

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#, as written by Alasund
Amelia nods in agreeance as she climbs in the passenger side, agreeing with her last comment silently. The blood on the clothes and car were only just coming to be realised by Amelia that there had been so much dried blood, especially on her old clothes. The number of injuries she'd had were rather amazing.

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#, as written by Alasund
She listened as she pulled the seatbelt on and clicked it in place. "What's it like in Afghanistan?" She asked, slightly cutting into the thread of the conversation, but she was always interested in learning about things she knew little of. She couldn't remember things quite as well as Natalie, but she had an appetite for learning.

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#, as written by Alasund
She nodded again. She'd heard a bit about it, certainly over the news, but still didn't know exactly what it was like. "So it's army versus terrorists?" She asks, referring to the attackers, that's the impression she'd gotten immediately

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#, as written by Alasund
"You have to go back?" She asks, slightly surprised. That was a dangerous place, the terrorists had much more training and discipline than Amelia had, yet Amelia had hit Natalie dangerously. What could happen over there? Amelia didn't know just how dangerous her aim with a handgun was, nor how good she'd gotten at it.

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#, as written by Alasund
Amelia looks rather odd sitting there, slightly miffed at the casual way people were moved about without any regard to their abilities or lack of such in any area. "So... What were you saying before I interrupted you with my question?" She asks, changing the path of her thoughts. If there was one thing she wasn't going to do, it was join the FBI, she may have acquired a sense of justice, but for some reason the FBI's contract felt like it would take away her freedom.

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#, as written by Alasund
"Why was that?" She asked, less interested in the nausea, and more interested in what had happened. When not so afraid, she had a curiousity that seemed to have few limits. She ignored the surroundings for the most part, except for noting that it reminded her something of when her father threw parties.

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#, as written by Alasund
Amelia grimaced, her curiousity shut for a moment. That was even worse than what she'd seen, that was horrible... She shuddered just slightly, realizing her odyssy of terror could've been much worse. "That's worse than Gerogin..." She trails off, her face slightly paler than it had been. The Crime boss had been the worst thing she knew of in the world before this. Although likely he'd do the same as the terrorists had if in the same position.

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#, as written by Alasund
She shivered again. Being shot almost sounded merciful compared to what had happened, it was no wonder that even Natalie had thrown up over it... "That's .... a horrible way to die." She haltingly replied, her imagination allowing her to view the scenes in detail....

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#, as written by Alasund
"Not much else you could've done...." Amelia replies, still horrified. "At least you did something, I most likely would've curled up in a ball." The truth was stark, she knew she wasn't the bravest of people, but you had to be pretty darn brave to face up with a situation like that and actually try and do something. Or have a cast-iron stomach.

The setting changes from Wing City to Eastern Wing City

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#, as written by Alasund
Amelia undid her belt as the car stopped, looking at Natalie as she reached for the door. "We can only do what we are able to." She replied, opening the door and stepping out of the car. She couldn't offer much comfort at all for those kind of memories, since she herself tried to forget her own, lesser, ones.

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#, as written by Alasund
She just nodded, leaving that conversation behind, she hoped. Amelia hoped that she would never be confronted with horror of that sort, death was minor to pain like that. Rather, she just walked in silence, after shutting the door behind her, until they reached the restaurant. "What's your favourite kind of Italian food?" She asks quite randomly, looking for something else to think about than the horrible scenes that her imagination created.

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#, as written by Alasund
"That's a general answer." She replies in a slightly giggling voice, laughing quietly at her unusual lack of specifics. Usually when Amelia asked something, she was assaulted with facts or reasonings. More often than not, a lot more information than she'd've gotten from almost anyone else. This was a rather interesting difference.

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