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Amy Robertson

A student, studying psychology and philosophy at Oxford. Scottish by birth, a musician and a writer.

0 · 389 views · located in The Infinite Void

a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by Script, as played by Disdain

Description

Image
© ~ntscha of deviantart.
Name: Amy Robertson
Age: 19
Race: Human (Mutant)
Significant Relations: Mother (amiable), Father (estranged).

Height: 5' 6"
Weight: 132 lbs
Physical Description: Amy is a pretty girl, with long wavy brown locks of hair that fall to her mid-back, worn loose. Her eyes are a pale blue, and her features smooth and youthful. Amy's figure is slim, and relatively unimpressive, more of a ruler than an hourglass. Very much 'in' with the fashions of the student world, Amy has a very preppy look, and can often be seen carrying a folder or pile of books around, or equally with a pint glass in her hand, enjoying the more social side of university.

Personality: Friendly, chatty and kind, Amy is a pleasant girl to know. Of course, like anyone, she has her sharp side, but generally keeps a lid on it unless someone causes her a great deal of offence. Studious more than she is wild, some consider Amy a little bit of a geek, but in university that covers a large proportion of the students, and so nobody really takes such labels seriously. Confident, Amy is not easily cowed, but she's not stupid -- in a dangerous situation, she's more likely to opt for flight over fight, despite her abilities -- or perhaps, her abilities reflect that.

Skills and Talents:
  • Academically strong - in general, Amy is an intelligent person.
  • Musician - Amy can play the guitar and the piano.
  • Accurate - Amy, though she wishes she didn't have to, does know how to aim a gun. After a bad experience in Glasgow with a group of anti-mutant activists, she made a point of learning.
  • Quick - Amy is a fast runner.

Abilities:
  • Phasing: Amy is capable of walking through solid objects, making her body insubstantial. When she reforms, her body takes priority over whatever substance she is in, and be it concrete or paper, it is shoved aside or compressed to make room for her.
  • Invisibility: Amy can become invisible, sight-wise.

Equipment:
  • Laptop.
  • General accoutrements.
  • iPhone.
  • Civilian pistol.
  • Can of mace.

So begins...

Amy Robertson's Story

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#, as written by Script
Breaking off from talking to Perry, Cally turned to face Liesha. "Speak of the devil. I haven't got a statement yet, ma'am, but you might have better luck with Simon - he's talking to a girl who was part of the fight. From what I saw, it was some sort of supernatural attack. I'm not sure whether I killed whatever it was or not, but it's gone so far as I can tell."

Cally turned back to Perry with a scowl, "I barely understood half of that, but if you don't want your ass arrested for obstructing the course of justice, then I suggest you take that stick out of your ass and give me a statement."

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The door of the bar was pushed open, and a brown haired student girl walked in with a yawn. However, she paused abruptly after a couple of steps in, and stared at the chaos.

"Err... I guess I'll come back later?"

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#, as written by Script
Amy Robertson blinked, overhearing Tobias' words. "Lovely sounding bloke ..." she muttered.

The girl glanced up at Rahal, frowning. "There was definitely a bartender the last three times I've been here." she said, "But, I suppose touch-screen ... stuff, makes sense."

Sidling over to the mentioned screen, Amy began to try and puzzle out what button did what.

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#, as written by Script
Amy Robertson absently stared at Ranpu as she managed to finally work her way around to ordering a mug of coffee. It really was a problem she had, staring at people. To be fair, this one did appear to be muttering to himself and clutching his head.

Almost certainly a bad sign. Amy retrieved her latte from the tender-bot-thing, and slid onto a stool. Sighing, she leant back and relaxed with a gulp of the warm drink. Hopefully this day at the bar would be less stressful. She really wondered why she kept coming back here.

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Amy Robertson blinked at Ranpu's smile and wave, hesitantly lifting her own hand in a slightly awkward wave back, realising that she'd been staring.

Still at least it didn't seem like this guy was a schizophrenic maniac, as might have been thought what with the muttering, and the head rubbing. Maybe Amy just had too-poor expectations of people in this place. After all, she came here, so surely there would be some other people who were sort-of-slightly normal?

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Amy Robertson yawned. Well, that was a good sign. If she was yawning, then she probably wasn't being shot at. Which was an improvement on yesterday.

Humming quietly to herself, Amy sipped at her drink absently. Of course, she would have decided not to bother bringing her book with her this time, given that she never got any reading done anyway ...

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Amy looked up at Rahal'a approach, raising an eyebrow briefly but lowering it as she remembered -- the normal social boundaries between strangers were practically ignored here. The girl smiled, "Sure, I don't see why not." she replied.

"I'm Amy, it's nice to meet you." The Scottish girl politely lifted her cup in greeting.

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"Tell me about it!" Amy rolled her eyes, "I ain't been here for but three bloody days, and already I've been in as many shootouts, brawls or what have you."

Shaking her head, Amy glanced at the stethoscope that Rahal wore. "So, are you a doctor?" she asked, "Or just dressing up for shits an' giggles?"

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"A healer, eh? Magical, I take it? Everything here seems to be." Amy raised an eyebrow, "But as far as magic goes, healing is what I'd call a good use for it. None of that fireball crap."

Amy shrugged, "A door, oddly enough. Some run-o'-the-mill bar in Oxford, every-time I open their door, I end up here instead."

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The door of the bar swung open, and the slight figure of a girl slipped into the room. Appearing in her late teens, she had a bag of crisps ('chips' by the American terminology) clamped between her teeth, and was hefting a guitar case and a laptop in her arms, with a bag slung over her shoulders.

A frown was set on Amy's face as she hauled her way to the counter and set her guitar down, slid her laptop onto the surface and finally removed the bag from her mouth. "Guh!" she complained eloquently, slumping onto a stool and waving a hand for a bartender.

"Coffee, please... latte."

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#, as written by Script
Amy blinked at Chris' approach, returning the smile with less eagerness. "Uh, well, it isn't the best - but it's about as good as most places. That's not helpful, is it? It's decent, is what I mean."

The girl coughed, "Sorry, my thoughts are everywhere right now." she said, "I'm recovering from being subjected to an onslaught of somewhat unbelievable information."

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"No, no, it's fine!" Amy said, shaking her head, "I didn't mean to say I wanted you to leave, I was just- what?" She blinked at Chris' interrupting himself, following his gaze.

"Oh, for Pete's sake..." she muttered, facepalming and dragging her hand down her face. "Every bloody time there's some maniac with too many sharp objects ... can a girl nae have a bloody coffee without ... grr." Amy sighed, sliding her laptop into her bag in case she had to make a hasty exit.

"I'm Amy, by the way." she said to Chris, smiling weakly and doing her best to ignore the aforementioned pointy objects.

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Amy nodded in agreement to Chris, "Aye, it's unnerving at the best of times. I've gotten in more trouble here than I have ... well, everywhere else put together."

She was about to speak again before Cerce's 'hello' drew her attention. The Scottish girl raised an eyebrow "Hello?" she replied to the seemingly purposeful greeting, "Can I help you?"

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"Oh aye, that's if you don't shank us first!" Amy retorted to Lukas, "Bloody Londoners." she said, rolling her eyes with a grin that made it clear she was mostly kidding.

The girl returned her attention to Cerce then, "Oh, well. Alright. I'm Amy." she replied, "Nice to make your acquaintance."

Amy raised an eyebrow at Chris, reaching over to pat him on the back. "I know, right?"

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"... interesting choice of conversation prompter." Amy noted, "Let me guess, you have one. Odder things have happened here. I don't want to see it. My childhood is just fine unmolested by harsh reality, thanks all the same!"

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"Fantaastic..." Amy groaned, "I did ask, didn't I? I wasn't just imagining that? Because it seems like nobody else heard. Or at least not the relevant body."

The Scottish girl glared momentarily at Lorraine, before returning her attention to her coffee.

Because coffee made sense, dammit.

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"A great deal of fuck all." Amy noted, "As far as I can tell. And I like it that way."

The girl turned back to Chris, and elbowed him, "C'mon, cheer up! We've not been attacked yet, and it's been at least ten minutes - that must be a record of some sort, eh?"

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"With the track record of this place? I'll pass..."

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"I said n- fuck it." Amy ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. "It really is, isn't it?" she said, looking at Chris. "It's just annoying today, rather than dangerous... I might fuck off to a Starbucks or something."

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"Also, you know what's fun? Being passive aggressive. And then wondering why people don't talk to or like me! That's great fun." Amy said cheerfully, slipping off of her stool and picking up her guitar.

"Feel free! Though mind, I don't know how this place's weird location nonsense'll work if the both of us leave. I come and go from a door in the city I live in, Oxford."