The difference between night and day we watch the moon rise and all that indicates I got a home in you that noon illuminates together, alone in you I’m not running away amelia abraham
2nd in command • 212
known as the connard
“ I’m pretty sure that’s a wound you’re hiding there. ” With both hands on her hips and a playful smile on her lips, June wasn’t going to let go of this anytime soon. “ Come on, let me check it out. I promise it won’t sting. ” She beckoned the person in front of her.
“ i t ’ s just a burn,” words came out under the woman’s breath, rosy tinge on her cheeks when she saw the smile on her lips. there was one on her own soft pink lips, it was pretty sad she was so horrendous with an oven she burnt not only food but her own self. “or are you just that bored? should i be finding more for you to do?” she joked, a smile edging her lips.
she often finds herself sitting on the porch of headquarters late at night when everyone’s inside or at their homes doing their own thing. she hangs out here more than she cares to admit, but she suspects that it isn’t really a bad thing, though she does love the coziness of her apartment along with her pets. the pen in her hand moves across the page rapidly, “ it’s rude to stare. ”
“w e l l it’s a good thing i wasn’t then, isn’t it?” the words came out of amelia’s mouth with a sharp twist and vena’s words caused her brows to pull together.
he whistles for the dog, clapping his hands to try and get his attention. as always, though, duke is the M O S T hardheaded dog to grace the goddamn planet. instead, he decides to make the next person to walk through the door his victim, barking and wagging his tail. wes lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “ he’s SHIT at following rules, does whatever he damn pleases. ”
“ n o w i wonder why that personality sounds so familiar,” the woman pondered out loud, brown orbs travelling from the dog, to meet wesley with a purposeful insinuation. “you’re just living your life, aren’t you? aren’t you?” with the questions her voice changed, attention back on the dog a she spoke to him.
╯crystal reed, hers.╭ ─ get off the street, it’s amelia abrahams ! i heard they’re a ( twenty eight ) year old ( second in command ) in the 212. don’t let that smile fool you, i heard they’re most known to be ( dogmatic ); sometimes they can be ( intrepid ) but i hardly doubt it. they seem like they’d be the ( connard ). they’ve been in the gang for ( five years. )
like this post/i.m. me if you’d like to plot!
amelia started her journey in montreal, canada, as amelia dubois. she was born lucky, so it seemed, her mother a beautiful and supportive woman. the same, well, it couldn’t be said for her father. he was the result of old money, his father and his father’s before that beliefs and attitudes; but he made himself a monster his of his own accord. millie didn’t always know, but she was surrounded by crime from a young age, her father using the business he bought into as a front for crime of the “classier” sort. that’s what he would say at least. he had his hand in bloodied money, black market deals, and rings involving white powder. the raven haired girl was oblivious for a long time, her mother; whoever, found out sooner than later. they were always close, perhaps thanks to a protective instinct lindsey dubois had.
our girl lived a live of luxury, some would say she had it easy in her white castle but appearances can be deceiving. while she didn’t know what it was like to live away from her castle, away from children who didn’t have as much money as her, she knew she would trade the unknown for what she knew at home. her friends vapid, something she had no interest in; even less so the older she got. her parents only remaining in a marriage because it was too late; her father having trapped a woman who had no idea she lie with a monster the first time they met. but one day, she got her wish, eyes completely void of emotion as she watched red and blue sirens flash as police cars lined up in her driveway.
a father, the man she thought of as a wolf with teeth much to sharp, was now caged. a sixty-two year sentence, she only hopped would keep him there for life. even if this wasn’t the case, her mother promised they wouldn’t be found as they fled to new york city. she wasn’t who she used to be, but none of them were. miles away, she hated her father still followed them. what happened turned her angry, violate, and much too serious for just a teenager. but whatever happened, she knew her mother had it worse, and her smaller brother still had time to recover slightly. she wasn’t a strong person, nor was she a brave or daring one to begin with. it’s crazy the effects trauma can have on people though, amelia turning her back on her emotions because she had to be the person she wasn’t. it was fragile at first but with her new identity, came a new her. strong, brave, and daring.
she had built herself a fortress, soft and rosy amelia carefully guarded behind a version of herself that was stony, and did whatever she had to do to survive. at first it was playing symphonies in the street, her music the only time she let herself feel as people threw crumbled money into her violin case. then it was the jobs, biting her tongue at her scathing bosses. then it was the classes she’d saved up for, ones that taught her to fight. what she really wanted, was the last thing she did before adrian found her. fighting was profitable for her, and the people who let her in on the illegal rings. it turned out her mental strength bled into her physical strength. she was thin, and looked like she should be in editorials instead of in the ring — no one ever suspected her for the win. yet, she was a monster in the ring. quick and analytical — she fought mentally as much as she did physically. she became somewhat of a sensation in the underground and betting world, a champion of the people. though she didn’t consider herself one, in fact, it scared her… she saw her father coming out in herself more and more.
she always had family, and she was apprehensive about becoming a part of a new one when adrian approached her with an invitation. she had bad experiences with family before, and this world scared her. but she found solace in the idea it wouldn’t be just her; she took care of her younger brother and her mother was quite literally becoming a shell. with acceptance she promised herself not to become her father. but she had neglected her feelings so long, it was difficult not to. and now that she feels herself becoming her father, subjectively, she’s grown accustomed to having this family, caring for them as she does her blood.
Millie eventually proved to be very valuable in more than just physical strength and fighting strategy. A very maternal instinct resides in a girl that seems so icy at first glance, she fights for anyone who needs it, and that’s just who she is. She’s not exactly icy, it’s often realized once you’re someone who she considers to be someone, she thaws. Her maternal instinct paired with the fact that she’s keen to details, and has a brilliant eyes for strategy was definitely part of it. Not to mention the fact she’s likely proved time and time again she’s willing to sacrifice herself for the rest of the group.
Amelia can be quite the complicated person to attempt to read. Remainders of her spoiled self, although no one knows anything about who she was before New York, so she can be very opinionated and thinks that her opinions are frequently right. She’s also very intimidating, with a good poker face and confidence exuding from her it’s not hard for her to make people respect her, not to mention after so many cocktail parties she knows how to control a conversation. With a tough exterior shell, it can be hard for people to see her emotional side, often seeing a serious and sage side of her. It is there though, she does goof off, she does have fun; it’s just only when she feels a good days work is complete. What she is always up for, however, is a good back and forth; sarcasm like a good old game for millie. Her temper, that is another thing people may or may not see. It’s either all or nothing for her, when she’s angry she’s ready to punch through a wall legitimately, so she really tries to avoid it.
You’re pretending like everything is okay. You know, like we didn’t kill Barb. Like, it’s great, like we’re in love and and we’re partying. Yeah, let’s party, huh? Party. We’re partying. This is bullshit.
and that was the thing about her,
she kept on surviving.
with bullet holes in her lungs,
and knife marks etched in her back.
she never let anything get in her way,
resilient.
a fighter,
not by choice.
but a warrior at heart.
