Approved by ma buddeh Safer! <3

Name: Aemilia Cosette
Age: 19
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Hair: snowy white/ light grey
Eyes: Dark red
Weight: 121 lbs
Height: 5'6''

Weapons:

Tira: A katana like sword is sheathed across her lower back, the blade itself measuring nearly three feet. Although its appearance is a dull jet black from the tip of the sword to the leather bound hilt, it is extremely sharp. Its mundane appearance only serves the purpose of refusing to glint or sparkle in the moonlight. Across the bottom of the black, near the hilt, the name “Tira” is etched, revealing the silver and steel underneath the black coating. It is the name of Aemilia’s grandmother, the first wielder of the sword, and the name by which she refers to her reliable companion.


Tira


Strengths/Skills: Aemilia’s most prominent skill is her stealth. Although she isn’t always silent, unseen among the shadows, she is very polite and inconspicuous, definitely not the type that one would suspect to be a professional murderer. She is extremely effective with a blade, aware of the locations of vital veins as well as a few pressure points. Aemilia’s fighting style outside of quick assassinations is one that could be described as graceful, using short turns and long, sweeping strikes of her sword that take advantage of its length. She is flexible, her movements are quick and sharp and, especially when in a perilous situation, she is very observant of her surroundings.


Armor: none

Weakness: Despite her skills with a sword, she is quite vulnerable to magic, especially spells and attacks that cover a large area and are nearly impossible to dodge or escape. She wears no armor, nor does she carry a shield, so any attacks against her must be dodged, parried with her sword, or simply taken full force. Although her movements are quick once she makes up her mind, Aemilia is one to overanalyze things and often thinks a bit too much before she acts. This is likely to cause her to miss chances to take action, or be taken off guard while lost in thought. In addition, her sympathetic nature may pose an opportunity for enemies to trick her or lead her astray.


Personality: Assertive yet calm and soft spoken, Aemilia isn’t one to make a bad impression, but is very strong in her beliefs and opinions and is willing to state and defend them. Her soft, calm tone does well to suggest a casual aplomb, but has the potential to make her seem a bit shy every now and then. She can be extremely contemplative, almost to a fault, but makes a habit of catching herself before her thoughts run too rampantly. She hates to draw unneeded attention to herself, and is generally kind and polite, but not to the point of being gullible or naive. However, the fact that she can be very caring and sympathetic and doesn’t like to upset or disappoint others, often being quick to apologize, could easily be reason for bouts of naivety. Although she usually isn’t one to instigate a fight, she will not back away from one. If she is offended, threatened, challenged, or is carrying out an assassination, she becomes somewhat cold, and extremely determined, no longer worried about the impression she may be giving. While fighting she offers quite a few remarks, some sarcastic, that may cause her to appear a bit cocky. But truth be told, Aemilia knows when to back down, and despite her occupation as an assassin she rarely takes assignments to kill individuals who are not criminals or otherwise harmful to society. Around friends and family she is cheerful for the most part, caring and sincere.


Appearance: Aemilia’s slightly wavy snow white hair falls a couple inches past her shoulders, curving inward as if caressing her slim figure. Her eyes are deep red and, although they are often fixed in a solemn stare, noticeably brighten up when she smiles. A very sturdy yet lightweight black dress fits snuggly around the upper portion of her body and falls freely below her waist. Surprisingly, it is extremely easy to move around in, as it was designed to be, and may appear to be more of an overcoat than a dress. It falls to the middle of her calves, barely covering the tops of the black leather boots worn on her feet both for comfort and a bit of added silence.


Aemilia

History:

“Kariette…”

Her whispers met the closed door. Perhaps her sister was asleep…

Or maybe she’d silenced herself when she heard approaching footsteps on the wood floor of the hall. Regardless, she couldn’t bear to go back to her room. Kariette was nine years old, Aemilia being only a year older. At times like this it seemed that they were all each other had, and she admitted to herself that she didn’t want to be alone.

She opened the door and stepped into a new collection of shadows. Even in the darkness, she could almost see her sister’s blue-silver eyes. She was sitting upright, facing the door. How long had she been awake? How long had she been like this?

“They’re doing it again.” Her small voice blended strangely with the sounds of the argument upstairs. It was firm and somewhat mature, as always, but held a hint of lost hope and exhaustion that made Aemilia uneasy.

“Kari…?” She sat next to her on the edge of the bed, hands clasped in her lap, front teeth grazing her bottom lip. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“I don’t know...” Aemilia wrung her small hands, looking over at her sister, “why they do this.” It was the only comfort she could offer, if it could even be described as such, but at least it was something to break the silence, to drown out the screams.

“They hate each other.”

Aemilia wrapped her arms around her sister and blinked back her tears, pushed them away. Crying wouldn’t help anything, although it was all she had longed to do for quite a while now. They should’ve both been used to their parents senseless bickering by then, she told herself. It’d been going on for so long, and things weren’t getting better. Perhaps Kari was right.

But she wouldn’t agree, or give away the true magnitude of her fears. She had to compose herself. For the both of them.

“Don’t worry. One day we’ll run away. One day it’ll be just you and me. We don’t need anyone else. We never will…”

Kari looked at her sister, a faint smile appearing on her lips. Aemilia could see it, no, she could sense it, even in the darkness, and the underlying tone in her voice, one of amusement and yet one of the purest trust, confirmed it. “You’re right.”

The two held each other there for the longest time in an embrace that kept the screams out, enveloped them in an imaginary yet welcome silence. It kept them from the fears, the nightmares, the horrible, regrettable thoughts that were only so because they just might be true. Although Kariette had agreed with her, welcomed her plan that involved just the two of them, where nothing could go wrong, Aemilia felt the need to add something.

“I promise.”



As far as promises go, it wasn’t broken. It may have never been followed through, but it was the kind of promise that still held validity, the kind that could’ve very well just been delayed.

The fights continued, more often than they’d ever been. Every word spoken seemed to be grounds for an argument. Rather than sitting up together at night, listening to the hate and terror upstairs, Kariette and Aemilia often found themselves right in the middle of them. It never stopped. Even when silence filled the folds of the house, it was a bitter silence, a silence riding on a mere sigh or gaze mistaken for something meant in ill-taste.

It was on one night that their dreams of running away were fulfilled, although they came in a package neither of them desired to open. Rather than running away together, they were separated carelessly, mercilessly, selfishly.

Their mother had been threatened, and thrown a small container at their father to keep him away from her. He’d been pushed over the edge. Kari and Aemy watched in horror as he hit her, his hand leaving a crimson impression on her cheek. He’d never struck her before.

Everything stood still.

And then Kariette spoke. Quiet, solemn, calm Kariette. Her out of character remark changed the course of all of their lives.

“You shouldn’t have thrown that.”

Such a simple statement, and yet such harsh, complex consequences. Their mother made an impulsive decision that night. Since Kari seemed to favor her father, she would go with him while she took Aemilia and fled from the hell they’d created for their children.

It was a bad choice at the time, but perhaps for the best of the future. Her mother regretted leaving in the morning. She and Aemilia did everything they could to contact the other half of their broken family, but to no avail. No one knew where Kariette had gone with her father. No one ever found out.

She missed her sister everyday. She’d lost her best friend, the only person she’d ever been able to truly confide in. Only twelve years old, and it seemed her life had already been torn to pieces.


Life got better for Aemilia and her mother, not in the sense that they forgot what had happened, but they’d adjusted. Her mother sold her paintings and worked at a local tavern while Aemilia continued her studies. It was a normal life, a contented life, but not one without wants or regrets. Still, they were as happy as they could be, with no current burdens to bear.

But things, as they often do in times of contentment, changed.

Aemy’s mother fell ill, so ill that she was eventually unable to continue work at the tavern. She still painted, when she wasn’t too exhausted to get out of bed. It always seemed to Aemilia that her paintings were her escape. She’d yet to find her own.

Despite the money her mother’s art brought it, their savings began to dwindle rather quickly, considering normal costs added to those of medication and frequent medical bills. She was above usual working age now and knew it would only be right for her to work to support her mother as she had once supported her, and so she willingly filled the job her mother had left at the tavern. However, as her mother’s condition worsened, so did their financial wellbeing. She was nearly completely bedridden, a saddened, frail version of her optimistic former self she painted less, and her medical needs continued to rise higher as the hours available for overtime work at the tavern were depressingly finite. Things couldn’t stay as they were for long…

“Don’t worry…” Aemilia said that night, kissing her mother on the cheek. She intended on finding some other field of work. She had to. As she left the room she could barely meet the woman’s eyes. She had aged so quickly in these times of misfortune…

Wiping down the counter in the tavern, her eyes were drawn to a corner table filled by a group of shady men. They seemed to be talking in a hushed tone, expressions both skeptical and thoughtful, and an occasional scheming smirk stood out among the more subdued expressions. The majority of them had weapons, swords or daggers at their waists. Pieces of paper were passed between them, as well as small bags and vials. They very well could have been travelers, just a group of friends looking for adventure, but Aemilia’s hopes and desperation got the best of her. She immediately assumed that they were mercenaries or assassins.

“I’d like to apply for a job.”

The men stared at her, their countenances suggesting the disbelief of some and the ability of others to find hilarity in the situation, until one of them set his mug down and laughed, eyes bright with amusement. “You’d like to what, precious?”

“I’d like a job.” She found it hard to keep her intimidation inside. She’d had no training, no experience in anything but caretaking and serving and drinks, and wasn’t even sure of the true employment of these men.

He was sitting in the corner and seemed to be detached from the rest of them, He lifted his head, the hood of his cloak casting an ominous shadow over his face. “You know what you’re getting into. You know what we are?”

Aemilia clutched the damp rag in her hand and prayed for luck. “You’re assassins.”

The whole group seemed taken aback.

The first man spoke again, his tone and sly smile suggesting that he was hoping for a laugh from his peers. “And you’d like us to…train you?”

“I’d like that.” She was keeping her answers simple. She didn’t want to make a bad impression on the men who, by employing her, could help her save not only her mother’s life, but keep her own intact.

“Hah! And why would a pretty little thing like you desire the life of an assassin?”

“I’d like to try, please.”

He looked her up and down. Her body tensed; she could feel his wandering eyes inspecting every inch of her, admiring, imagining.

“Well, dear…we could train you to do more than kill.”

That particular man left the tavern that night with a cracked and bleeding nose.

Aemilia left with a new occupation.



In the months that followed, Aemy was trained by the very same group she’d spoken with at the tavern. They taught her each night after she’d locked up, sparring with her and demonstrating skills that they used themselves. Her mother was lead to believe that Aemilia was simply working extra hours for increased wages, when in reality she was learning techniques that would earn her more than a life of cleaning tables could offer.

She wasn’t proud of what she would eventually do, but it was necessary. She’d get her mother well again, and if this was what it took…

It would have to do, as long as the poor woman didn’t find out.

On one particular morning, as the waking sunlight cast a dull haze through the windows of their home, it fell upon something unfamiliar propped up against the door.

“A sword…?”

The blade itself was jet black, slightly curved. It was beautiful, nothing like the swords she practiced with, which were dull to both sight and touch. Something caught her eye near the hilt, a small engraving tainted the midnight with a sliver of silver.

Tira

Her grandmother’s name?

Rising from the position she’d assumed to better examine the sword, she turned towards her mother’s room. It was the only explanation…

But one never proven.

That night the lull of her mother’s shallow breathing came to a halt. No pulse. No murmurs in sleep. No soul residing in that tortured bedridden body.

And the next night Aemilia performed her first assassination. It wasn’t hard; she imagined that the man was her mother’s killer. No mercy was shown. She’d lied to herself, but found closure.

After that night she would leave unnoticed, allow the shadows to embrace her and carry on until morning, stopping only when her body simply demanded that she sleep. She would find Kariette, the only member of her family that was alive and worth finding.

But that night. That one twisted night.

That man had felt a hand across his face, a finger teased the pressure point behind his ear. He could not move.

A leg wound itself around his own, locking him in place. Cold steel was tempted at his throat.

The sound of lips kissing the air, and a woman’s voice.

“Goodnight…”

In one moment of pathetic desperation he struggled to speak, but couldn’t even manage a breath. In one moment of hope and regret intertwined, his whole wretched life, the life that had lead him to this fate, flashed before his eyes. In one moment on which balanced life and death, blade met skin.

All was lost.
_____________________________
Battles
We'll Paint This Red (insaney) - [Done =D]
Stolen Kiss (Wolfen) - [Getting there]

Crossroads RPs
Seven Years (Dark Tragedy) - [uhhh.]
Nevermore (insaney) - [active again :]]