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About DividedTiara

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  1. "Ember, huh? Evelyn. Just Evelyn," Eve said with a smile. "You can call me Eve." She was listening to her new acquaintance speak, and tensed a bit when Ember made a mention of the number glowing on her phone. Eve reached for it and turned it around, its screen facing the table. "Really? He's a peice of shit, just so you know." Eve wasn't trying to remember her last encounter with Ryan, but she couldn't help it. He'd been tracking her after her last delievery. A strand of opium known for vivid hallucinations, some pretty intense stuff. She wasn't interested in her line of work anymore-- it was so many things she hated: dangerous, dirty, and badly paid. "You've been a hard one to find," Ryan approached with tenacity, thinking highly of no one but himself, despite obvious character flaws in both his teeth and general lack of hygiene. Eve was cornered-- the alley between her hovel of an apartment and the street was blocked at both ends by a few of Ryan's associates. "You're not very difficult to find-- the smell, you know." He smiled without warmth, stepping closer than Eve would prefer. "My, my, a naughty one, I know just how to handle that mouth of yours..." With a roll of her eyes, she looked back at Ember with a soft, harsh laugh. "Then again-- if we're in Izral, we're probably just as bad."
  2. “Alright sweetheart, you got me. I’m going to be honest with you, okay? No tricks, no lies. Just the truth.” Uh-huh. Of course, obviously, you’re just going to tell the truth, the one who was hiding in the cargo. This’ll be good. “Sweetheart?” Rose muttered, almost under her breath. It had a sense of entitlement, but she was entitled. The name Connell deserved respect; her family was well known in Ashville. Her father, Maxwell Connell founded his trading company when he was 22, starting as a delivery boy for simple items from Ashville to Casper, and now he was one of the richest men in Ashville. He could get anything, anywhere-- for anyone. She was a Connell, a respected member of a social elite, and she would do something about this stowaway. She listened to his story with a mixture of fear—the gun—and annoyance – him. She paid attention, and wished she hadn’t. His story was terrible. Even if the story was true—and that was a big if—why would she help him catch his bounty? Who was he after, the monocle man? ‘I probably wouldn’t blame him. Wearing a monocle? Like, in reality? It’s insane,’ she noted, but got back to business. The nice old couple? Perhaps someone in the front, if his story was even true. This Teddy was probably lying to her, which was the wrong move considering the immense pressure she was under. This situation was too important to let this insolence continue. “Look, Teddy, you need to leave. I honestly don’t care how or why you’re here—but you have to go. I don’t need money. And honestly, if you had money, I don’t really think you’d be back here, your bounty story aside.” She didn’t exactly enjoy being rude to the handsome stowaway, but this couldn’t continue. Rose had to alert her actual security to what was going on. They were in the front car, per her specific instructions. Guards tended to scare people, or worse, raise suspicion, so she attempted to throw people off by traveling mostly alone. There wasn’t a way to prevent this; he had to go. She turned her back to him, ignoring any further words to face the door, peering through the window on the door to see the passenger car she’d previously inhabited. She turned her head back toward him, saying with a hint of regret. “You shouldn’t have come here.” Or pissed in my floor. As the arrogant words left her mouth, shots rang out. She spun back toward the window and heard a woman scream, along with other voices yelling from the car in front of her. What the hell is that?
  3. "That'd be me," a mans voice seemed to call out from no where. "Don't be alarmed." Well, sure, Mr. Murderer I'd love to be your next victim, so of course I'll just stay as calm as can be! Slowly and seemingly as awkward as possible, a blonde haired man was slowly approaching her. Her fear was starting to disapate; he was kind of lanky, and not at all the brawling, herculean murderer she had been expecting. He was drawing closer though, making her a little more nervous. Also, she thought, kind of seemed to be staring at her. As his eyes--They are beautiful, so blue-- seemed to linger on her, she began to bristle. Just who does he think he is? It's not my fault some miscreant pissed on the floor and here he is judging me? Ugh. Rose had been silent so far, but really began to study him. He was attractive, if a bit dirty. She began to worry as her eyes locked on the rifle on his shoulder. He didn't seem as if he was about to use it, but it made her tense up anyway. Maybe he wasn't as terrifying as she first thought, but a gun would kill her just as dead, no matter the persons' size. An eyebrow raised as he went from a stutter and stalling to his confident claim of profession. She bit her tongue from saying something sarcastic or sexual, not wanting to escalate the situation in either direction. She scolded herself mentally, he was handsome and all, but also armed. And probably going to kill her. And probably peed on the floor. "You're security?" For a second-- she was almost amused, with him and the situation. However, as his conversation moved to the offending puddle, Rose suddenly lost that sense of humor, huffing. "Excuse me? I'm not looking for the bathroom-- though, I apparently seemed to have found it anyway," she was getting heated, her voice raising with nervousness and anger. "Just who the hell are you, really? You're no security of mine; you can't be back here!" Beyond the annoyance of being embarrassed, she was starting to crack. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Why was he here? Did he know about her gold? If he took it, she'd be done for. She had to protect it and if that meant throwing this blonde menace off the train, then so be it. Maybe she wouldn't typically demand a random stowaway be removed immediately and without care, but this wasn't typical.
  4. Something was strange in the air; Rose had slammed the door open without as much as a care, but as she peered into the darkness, unease was smacking her. The hairs on her neck were standing, and the odor... It was... kind of familiar, and pungent. She took a moment to try to get her bearings, and moved to the left, out of the doorway. She hoped that maybe some of the sunlight could illuminate the car enough to find what she was looking for. Father wanted to expand his business, and she was set to deliver his promise of a "special" kind of investment to a man in Tia. Rose had been told many stories of the man, and he wasn't someone she wanted to anger. It was her idea to take the train, and she'd hidden the gold well with the help of one of the servant boys on their property. She was trying to be worried about the gold, or the man she would be delivering to, but instead could not get over that damned smell. What the hell was that? A step toward the large box with Connell stamped on it. Another. As she took the third step, she stopped in her tracks as a small splash occurred and it finally made sense what the smell was. Was that... a puddle? She begged herself not to look, but begrudgingly her eyes made their way down. " fucking kidding me?" The vulgarity was beneath her, but then again, so was piss on her new boots. They were heeled slightly and clicked when she walked, and gave her a sense on grandeur about herself that she was certain she wasn't getting back now. Rose stepped back and tried her best to shake her foot away from her-- huffing all the while-- as she contemplated the murder she was definitely going to commit. Many more muttered curses later, she steadied herself. Patted her hair, making sure the strawberry blond curls were still proper. Her dress... No, no, no! It was such a beautiful dress and it would forever smell horrible after being tracked through piss and how the hell was she going to get that out and did she even have anything else as good to wear... Another beat passed, her eyes were suddenly back on the puddle. If that's here now, and certainly was not when they first moved the cargo, then that means... "Hello...? Who's there?!"
  5. Green eyes were locked on the phone in front of her. It was almost like clockwork. He would get to four rings, hang up, and call again. Guess he was missing his preci-- An unexpected voice caught her off guard and Eve looked up. Horns are a nice touch, she noted silently. She wondered if the girl was born with them and exactly how the mother that birthed her felt about them, but quickly regained composure. "I've had a bit of a shit day, to be honest," she declared with a short laugh. She took a good look at the girl in front of her, trying to read her. "You don't really look like you're having a grand ol' time, either." Eyes moved down to her new friend's meal-- steak. She smiled, "Never had the steak here. Honestly can't imagine it's any good..." Then again, nothing tastes that great here anyway. Eve had a good feeling about this girl, but her instincts were often terrible. She'd also felt good about shellfish (which she was allergic to), her hair when she'd dyed it green (it was awful), and her previous employer, which was now the source of most of her misery. So, she decided instead to just talk to her, and decide afterwards. Anything would be a welcome distraction from her phone, anyway.
  6. Anxiety was pilling up on her. In an attempt to quell it, she tried distraction with deep breaths and expensive teas, but to no avail. It still gripped at her, crushing her chest. The roaring sound of the train didn’t help much, either. Rosalie had been staring out the window, watching the country side fly by, mesmerized. She felt the eyes of others and—for once—was unable to muster a care about it. The last time she’d seen her father was playing in her head, consuming all thoughts. “Rosalie, you must not fail,” he demanded. The man stood over her, his demeanor and tone lacking any compassion. “This will make or break your chances. Do not underestimate how vital this assignment is that I’m giving you. I’m tru—” Her replay was interrupted by a soft voice behind her, “Ma’am?” “Y-Yes?” She turned quickly, without grace. Rose took a small breath, calming herself. He wasn’t here now—and she had a job to do. “What is it?” “More tea?” At this point, Rose finally noticed the tray in front of the tanned maid. It was the tea she’d ordered, but now the idea of anything was making her nauseous. She shook her head and turned back to the window with a muttered thanks. The elegantly decorated car she was riding in was much emptier than originally imagined. There were five people, including her. A rather large man with an actual monocle—Rose stifled a smirk—and what appeared to be his assistant, sat a table across the car. It was mostly an open area- much to her annoyance. She was free to stare at all of them, of course meaning they could do the same to her. An older couple, currently eating, was the only other company in the car, sitting to the right. They were talking in amused, hushed tones. She supposed they were enjoying their trip together—good for them. Rose was feeling a bit paranoid and stifled in this area, and stood. The car she was staying at was the last of the passenger cars, with many more in front of this one. She assumed those would be much more full, as most wouldn't like to be so close to the cargo. However, this was her exact intention. Wiping the wrinkles in her pale blue skirt, she moved toward the rear door, toward the cargo cars. Maybe I could just check on it, quickly. She surveyed her own outfit and realized it would be difficult to cross the cars, but certainly not impossible. Her dress was relatively casual—for her—and the embroidered silk laid on her body nicely. The blue fabric reached about the middle of her neck, making it a modest garment, and the cloak attached the back made it one of her more practical ones. Specifically not looking back, Rose opened the door with a bit of difficulty and shut it behind her. Turning toward her current mission, she watched the tracks below as they soared past. There was a balcony area at the end of each cart and a small gap between where the cars connected. Minding the gap, Rose took a large step over it and crossed to the other side, opening the new door in front of her. Peeking in the small window, she noticed this car was much less ornately decorated and considerably darker. She threw the door open, and stepped inside.
  7. BASICS First name: Rosalie Surname: Connell Nicknames: Rose Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Human Marital Status: Single Gender: Female Age: 21 PHYSICAL Voice: Feminine, a bit higher than most Eyes: Grey-Blue Complexion: Pale-skinned Height: 5’4 Weight: 120 Build: Small in every sense, dainty Hair: Strawberry blonde, often worn in an elegant and extravagant style Tattoos/markings: No tattoos, a deep scar cuts vertically up most of her upper right thigh PERSONALITY Positives: demure, reticent, pensive // willfill, headstrong, stubborn // compassionate, solicitous, caring Negatives: secluded, isolated, lonely// self absorbed, egocentric, self-centered // insecure, doubtful, hesitant// Hopes: To find a true connection to someone else after being isolated for so long Fears: Marrying someone she doesn't care for, feeling alone forever Likes: animals, praise, compliments Dislikes: rudeness, dirt, being lied to, being ignored GEAR Clothing: Due to her nobility status and wealth, she is often in lavish dresses that offer little in the way of free movement. Armor: N/A WEAPONS N/A STRENGTHS Quite compassionate, does empathize with others Stubbornness often gets her what she wants Finds humor in many things, but often stays quiet in social situations WEAKNESSES By being both insecure and self-absorbed, she tends to react very negatively to criticism Is relatively naive and sheltered Is too stubborn for her own good-- often making a bad decision and sticking to it instead of changing sides. HISTORY RELATIONSHIPS
  8. BASICS First name: Evelyn Surname: Cole Nicknames: Eve, Evvie Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Human Marital Status: Single Gender: Female Age: 21 PHYSICAL Voice: Feminine and soft Eyes: Green Complexion: Pale-skinned Height: 5’4 Weight: 120 Build: Relatively petite, but with a bit of muscle. Hair: An unnatural red, often worn in curls. She takes pride in her appearance, so it's very rare its disheveled. Tattoos/markings: No tattoos or scars. PERSONALITY Positives: excitable, happy-go-lucky, positive // sincere, caring, compassionate // relaxed, easygoing, even-tempered Negatives: irresponsible, impetuous, rash// selfish, egocentric, self-centered // Machiavellian, sly, duplicitous// Hopes: To meet a nice guy, and live a comfortable life Fears: Living in squalor and poverty her entire life Likes: money, men, a good time Dislikes: rudeness, shyness, having to hide or stay silent GEAR Clothing: relatively cheap, casual clothing. Mostly skinny jeans and simple blouses. She only wears clothing that allows her to move freely. Armor: N/A WEAPONS Guns: Glock 43 - 9mm. Carries inside purse, in a hidden zipper. Unregistered and she is unlicensed. STRENGTHS Is incredibly agile-- quick, balanced, supple. Outgoing and warm personality-- she tends to win most over with ease. Self-preservation instinct is strong WEAKNESSES While she's popular at first, her selfishness ultimately will drive others away Is relatively naive to manipulation, especially in the line of work she's chosen. Makes decisions on impulse-- often doesn't think things through HISTORY W.I.P. RELATIONSHIPS W.I.P.
  9. The ding, ding of the bell alerted the patrons of the diner a new customer had entered. Evelyn walked casually inside, her fiery red hair styled in loose, lazy waves today. A more conservative person would be caught off guard by the unnatural hue, but that conservative person would probably be caught off guard by Eve in general. She cussed like a sailor, had very little respect for authority figures, and tended to dabble in illegal activity to make ends meet. She was trying to change that, but the underground tended to pull anyone reaching out right back down. Smuggling had been something she was particularly good at, as Eve tended to charm many she came across, and was small enough to be inconspicuous to most police and guards. Her favorite table was calling her name, but as her eyes landed on, she instead saw a very stressed looking, completely red-skinned blonde sitting there. A small sigh almost escaped her, but she stopped herself, knowing it wasn't quite fair to be annoyed with some stranger who took her favorite table... even if it was annoying. Sitting to the right of her favorite table, she took the chair facing the woman. Eve was curious about her race, but thought it rude to ask, so stayed quiet until her waitress approached her. Glancing through the menu, Eve knew exactly what she was going to get: the potato soup. It was a comfort food of hers, and she needed it today, especially. She'd just ignored almost 20 calls from her-- now former—contractor. She didn’t know much about his boss, or who he even was, but he was her main contact with whoever she used to work for. Often, Eve was kept out of the loop of what she was transporting and for whom. It always seemed better not to ask. Slipping her phone out of her pocket, she sat it on the table and watched it light up over and over again. No way I’m answering that, she thought. I can’t do this anymore.
  10. APPEARANCE BASICS First name: Adeline Surname: Moor Nicknames: Ade (pronounced Addie) Alignment: Chaotic neutral Race: Human, probably Marital Status: Single Gender: Female Age: 24 PHYSICAL Voice: Smoky, speaks mostly in harsh tones. Eyes: Brown, almost black Complexion: Olive-skinned Height: 5’5 Weight: 114 Build: Petite, unintimidating with careful hands Hair: Deep brown, falling in waves to her mid back. Often kept up. Tattoos/markings: No tattoos, but heavy scarring on the backs of her shins and thighs from childhood punishments. PERSONALITY Positives: clever, shrewd, perceptive // candid, authentic, frank // self-reliant, responsible, capable Negatives: insolent, disparaging, rude // sarcastic, sardonic, cynical // cold, unfriendly, harsh // Hopes: a soft bed, a stable life, a warm fire Fears: restraints, powerlessness, captivity Likes: sweets, alcohol, jewelry Dislikes: children, loud noises, unnecessary violence GEAR Clothing: black breeches, a loose-fitting peasant top, traveling boots. Armor: deep red, light leather set. Very old and shows its age. Misc: her most prized possessions are the few rings that color her hands. They are jeweled subtly but elegantly and are the only things she owns of worth. She also carries several vials of a mysterious silver liquid tied to her belt. WEAPONS Melee: one regular sized dagger lies strapped on her right thigh. A smaller one hides in her left boot. Long Range: Carries throwing darts, some dipped in the silver liquid carried at her side. Proficient in aim, but rarely actually throws them. Their size allows her to grip between the fingers and nick the skin of her target, the poison she carries now dooming them. Poison: The exact ingredients to the viscous liquid are unknown to most. You won't find this potion in a book of recipes. Acidic, potent and deadly. If consumed, it will paralyze for a short period. Aimed directly at nervous system, it's symptoms often begin with stiff joints and shortness of breath. As it advances, the stiffness begins to spread to the limbs. Working over a period of four hours, by the third it's almost impossible to move. Speech becomes more difficult and soon only the eyes are functioning. This effect last for about 12 hours, and feeling slowly regains throughout the body. For a more potent effect, it will enter the blood stream. All previous symptoms begin similarly, but it reaches further, and the lungs can't keep up. It's relatively painless, until breathing gets more and more difficult. As they are often poisoned without warning or notice, the fear is more overwhelming than the actual symptoms in the first few hours. Death by these means, however, is not an honorable one. There is an antidote to the poison, made with a few common ingredients. Ade tends to carry a bit with her. STRENGTHS Is incredibly agile-- quick, balanced, supple. Talented with poisons. Self-reliance creates independence and ability to travel indefinitely. WEAKNESSES Physically weak and easily overpowered when caught. Cynicism often causes a lack of determination--better to not try than to fail. Often dismissive of people and assistance, meaning she has little in the way of back up. HISTORY W.I.P. RELATIONSHIPS W.I.P.
  11. Thank you! It really did! I'd like to think it's because I have just... the most charming personality
  12. To be honest, I just love the fact it's called hobo dinner, haha.
  13. Oooh, nothing more fun than a leper colony, haha. I'd be happy to show you her sometime, but... ya know... whenever you tell me your name. Thank you! Definitely feel free to send a carrier pigeon, or use UPS(:
  14. Everyone is way nicer than I remember. -crying emoji- I will, literally, right now!
  15. Honestly... everything about your profile is magic to me. Please live forever.