preferred pronouns Xe/xem/xyr
applying for Calliope English
build 5'9", something she is really proud of, and about 178 pounds-chubby but not enough that you wouldn't notice with her clothes on. Enough weight on her that she's muscular-can throw it around with the best of them, but she keeps in the best shape she can when she can so she hasn't exactly let herself go. She's got broad shoulders, broad hips with thick, muscular thighs-her height is attributed in her long legs more than anything.
affiliation Felt, position depends on whether or not her father would even allow her to help out in the mob. If so, probably works as sort of an, unofficial earner? Due to her observation skills and being in-the-know about what people want. Even if she's not allowed to help " officially " , she'd probably slip her two cents in to those who know about her, or casually drop hints, yada yada, to her father whenever she felt she could help keep him safe without, tipping him off to the fact she wants him to keep safe.
jobs Officially she's an up and coming artist and an unpublished writer-she gets paid a lot to do commissions for people, but since that job comes with dry spells and she absolutely refuses to rely on her father/mother for money (and she's yet to find the courage to send some of her stuff to publishers, let alone look for someone who will work with her), she has an advice column in a local newspaper called " Cheer Letters "
personality The nature part of her is that she's essentially a sweet girl at heart. She's very polite, especially to strangers and she's usually seen with a smile on her face. She'd be hard pressed to say anything bad about anyone-unless they happen to be apart of her (blood) family, and even then she's polite about it; she doesn't necessarily believe that talking smack about them will help anything. Still, when she's sad she's sad-and she can get grumpy like nobody's business. Basically, when she feels-she feels, strongly. She can be quite the defeatist sometimes when she gets in that kind of mood-when it's pertaining to herself, at least, she'd never tell anyone they couldn't do something. She's also got hella insecurity problems, lemme tell you. As for, the nuture part of her? I don't know yet about the headcanons for the familial ties-whethershe's an illegitimate babbu or adopted-EITHER WAY, she was raised by a bunch of badasses, right? So, when I say Callie's got a backbone-I mean, backbone. She takes shit from herself, but she absolutely refuses to take shit from anyone else-someone tells her she can't do something, either because she's too sweet or a girl? Nine times out of ten she's going to do it (unless it's stupid and/or endangering to her health). And when she puts her mind to something, she does it, and she doesn't stop until it's done, or doesn't give up until she deems it right. She's not stupid, though-she's got a street savvy that comes with years and years of observing people around her doing it. And she's also very, respectful, in way? I mean, the obvious way being, obvious, but also in a way that she doesn't shy away from the icky, bad stuff that surrounds her, feeling the people around her deserve that kind of respect-i.e., not blanching/looking away/gagging when overhearing stuff about death, not putting people in a position where they would have to jeopardize themselves/their position for/because of her because she believes she should know better, etc etc. That also, brings me to another point-she's observant. It's more of a survival skill than anything else at this point. She's learned how to read body language like its her native tongue. She's also, incredibly stubborn, and loyal to a fault-like, even though she's ba s ic ally disowned her father at this point (at least, how I've got it headcanoned), if she were captured for information, nothing on gods green earth would make her give up anything she knows about her father or his family.
" I went to black swamp village... where strange, people live... "
The soothing sound of the swing song drifted through Callie's head as she bent over her work desk, fingers smeared and wood dusted with color from her chalks. She'd been commissioned to restore one of her clients old paintings of her grandmother, and the setting was supposed to be a fancy swing get together, though the girl couldn't really see how it was supposed to be that. It didn't look anything like the old swing joints she had seen in pictures-but the client was nice, and either way, she couldn't judge. Who was she to say what old swing joints looked like? She wasn't there. Besides, it wasn't nice to judge people. Maybe after she got finished restoring the painting, it would look better. Callie took a deep breath and refocused on the painting, the chalk gliding effortlessly and carefully over the canvas, restoring the colors to their previous shine. If anything, the work she was doing was beautiful-and it would help pay for food.
Calliope frowned and paused in her work. What was that noise? She pulled the earbuds out of her ear and lifted her head, and in the next moment she was curling her nose. Caliborn. Of course, she should have known. Her oaf of a brother was blasting some kind of music-through the walls, it sounded like Godsmack? And if this was any other time, Calliope would just move. But this was the fifth day in a row Caliborn had interrupted her when she was working-and she knew he knew she was working-and frankly, Callie was sick of it. She could put up with a lot when it came to her family-had been for her entire life, but there was only so much she could take. Still.. maybe he could be reasoned with. She pulled out her phone halfheartedly with an annoyed expression, and texted him. Staring down at the " sent message " notification, Callie waited a beat, and then went to go pick up her chalk again. Then, after another second, she heard it-
" I'm not the one who's so far away, when I feel the snake bite enter my veins... "
He had... turned it up. Callie stared at her chalk unseeingly, feeling the flush of quiet anger creep up her neck. She had been polite. She had said that--.. Calliope's teeth came together in a decisive snap, the click audible even through the blast of the music. She pushed her chair back and stood up from her chair, grabbing the rag from the back and rubbing the chalk from her hands as she strode toward her door with a clenched jaw and a fire in her eyes. She wasn't proud of her height just because it made her look regal. Oh no, she had a perfectly good reason why she enjoyed her height, where other girls might have blanched and hated looking over every other girl their age. But this reason, this very-specific reason had a lot riding on it. He couldn't see her coming. He couldn't have time to react. So, Callie tossed the rag back in her room and stared at her brothers door, directly across from her (really, she was going to need to ask Arthur for a different room) and braced herself.
Then, Calliope was shoving the door open with all her weight and knew, be it by twin telepathy or the fact that Caliborn was as predictable as a bag of hay, he would be sitting on his bed. The female didn't even give him a chance to react, she just grabbed him and twisted, throwing him to the ground and wrapping her arms and legs around him, sitting on his back and twisting him and tightening until she had put him in an old wrestlers hold he couldn't fight out of without seriously injuring himself. Still, the dense oaf was fighting her (she'd feel kind of bad for the insult later), and so she tightened further, until she heard the sound of him catching and holding this breath and felt him still beneath her.
" I thought, I told you-" she got out from between gritted teeth. She hadn't used this move in forever. "-to turn that music down. I'm working. "
