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Today's Document
DEAR READER
almost home
RMH
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@haeredis
how many dresses will i have when i'm empress? callista says a hundred, but i just don't know if that's enough.
♛ independent emily kaldwin; low & high chaos ♕ extensive knowledge of dishonored lore ♛ crossover + oc friendly! ♕ 8 years of rp experience ♛ adaptable writing style; multi-para, para, icons, whatever works ♕ skype available for plotting/conversation
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Meet The Muse
Hover over the links for a brief description!
|| The Basics ||
Name: emily drexel lela kaldwin i Nickname(s): lady emily, little girl, em Age: 11 Species: *christina perri voice* i'm oooonly huuuman
|| Personal ||
low chaos — high chaos
Morality: Lawful / Neutral / Chaotic / Good / Gray / Evil Religious Belief: she's not sure, but the abbey makes her uncomfortable — she's not sure, but she despises the abbey Sins: Lust / Greed / Gluttony / Sloth / Pride / Envy / Wrath Virtues: Chastity / Charity / Diligence / Humility / Kindness / Patience / Justice Primary Goals In Life: to be the best empress she can be; she's young, but she knows her people are hurting and things need to be fixed — to make sure everyone knows she's empress and doesn't forget it; what she says goes; she doesn't want a single person undermining her authority Languages Known: n/a Secrets: she makes a point to speak her mind quite often. if anything, it'd be how often she has come into contact with the outsider. Quirks: toying idly with any ruffles, lace, buttons, ribbons, etc. on her clothes; tapping her fingers on things when she's bored; when she hears something she doesn't like she scowls and juts out her chin; refusing to look at advisors/the like when they criticize her Savvies: she isn't always the best at empathizing, but when listening to those who are sad or angry or in need emily exhibits stunning patience; she's bright, a fast learner in all regards, and picks up on the behaviors of others fairly quickly; really good at feeling no remorse over her cruelty. in her mind she was wronged, the world is fucked anyway, so she's justified.
|| Physical ||
Build: Slender / Scrawny / Bony / Fit / Athletic / Herculean / Babyfat / Pudgy / Obese / Other Height: 4'8 maybe @ 11; around 5'7 fully grown Weight: ~81.5 lbs @ 11????; 125 lbs-ish full grown, she's thin & sharp Scars/Birthmarks: Abilities/Powers: little things here and there she learned from corvo. i've always loved the idea of her being taken with fencing (and therefore sword fighting). she's also probably a pretty good shot with a pistol when she shoots for fun; like the plate shooting stuff, trophy hunting, etc. Restrictions: she doesn't weigh much so she could be tossed around or overpowered pretty easily. plus she's not super strong or athletic either. also, when she's older and can shoot, it's not like she carries a gun everywhere with her.
|| Favorites ||
Favourite Food: she really loves fruits of all kinds Favourite Drink: nothin hits the spot like an ice cold glass of aj Favourite Pizza Topping: pineapples, if they had pizza Favourite Color: white Favourite Music Genre: anything she can dance, preferably not too slow, to Favourite Book Genre: adventure Favourite Movie Genre: n/a Favourite Season: spring Favourite Butt Type: all butts r special in their own way Favourite Swear Word: piss! Favourite Scent: sea salt and ocean brine Favourite Quote: i'm too lazy to do this one :v
|| Fun Stuff ||
"Boss" Theme Music: ok not boss music per se but consider the following: if she was ever assassinated just picture it's at a huge ball and she's doing one of those big group dances where they constantly switch off partners and 02 serenade for strings in b minor by dvorak is playing as the assassin calmly makes their way 2 her Bottom or Top: n/a. older emily is disinterested in sex, but she'd thoroughly enjoy humiliating and/or talking down to anyone with amorous affections for her Loud Burper Or Soft Burper: she burps like a trucker and it's inspirational as hell (but in formal situations she's good at passing them off as a series of tiny barely noticeable kitten burps) Sings In The Shower: Yes / No Likes Bad Puns: they're the best thing ever and honestly if you asked for an audience bc you wanted to tell her a pun she'd let you
Tag 3 People!: 8')) my pals on this blog have all done this
haeredis
[ corvo ]
the papers in his grasp, weighed down with t i m e and whispers of the sea, are filled to the brim with m e m o r i e s he has, at last, decided to face. there are paintings of a sun-filled smile, words written in ink, seemingly so s o l i d in their promises at the time. there’s notes, stolen s e c r e t s shared in the company of two. and then, there are the drawings. sweet gifts given to a man so d i f f e r e n t than he is now. pages turn, until the very last memory is upon him; her name is emily. written on a single piece of parchment, the ink stained from his hands, his tears. they mark his joy, his frustration. they mark his s o r r o w. there’s suddenly footsteps, small and light, and corvo closes the book, eyes stinging and throat constricting. he expects no one else then the young girl who walks so f e a r l e s s l y to his room. he greets her with a smile, hair falling to mask the emotion he can never truly hide.
seldom is the young empress apart from her faithful lord protector, even within the armored walls of her fortress, but she has just come from her room after changing into something more suitable for the chilly outdoor weather.
chin up, she waits for corvo to turn to her with hands clasped behind her back.
"corvo."
( her tone still harbors a child's innocence that she has, in truth, been robbed of. )
his smile is returned easily. it's hard for emily to trust these days, but never with corvo. dark eyes look only briefly to the documents in his hands. she starts to question him, but thinks better of it; she's more interested in discussing the proposition she is here to offer.
"i'd like to go for a walk."
I took a break from drawing dishonored junk
to draw more dishonored junk
[ the outsider ]
he’s been watching her for a while now, sitting inside that room with her knees pulled to her chest, wondering, hoping her royal protector will come to save her soon.
she draws a lot, he’s found that out, and it’s always pictures from memory. whether it’s a scribble labelled mother or a full page with the word daddy or corvo, every mark has a meaning.
the outsider knows how scared emily must be. maybe she could use a friend… or maybe even a little excitement to lighten things.
the world slows, twists for the time being, and he steps from the void and into the real world, fingers laced behind his back and brows arched in false concern. the god looms for a moment, glancing over her shoulder, and then gives a small cough to catch her attention.
“ hello, emily. “
the cat is undoubtedly beautiful. more beautiful, even, than dunwall tower, emily thinks. but it's not the sort of place you'd want to live in—— no, it's too beautiful for that.
and she hates the smell.
when her grief subsided enough that she might get up and wander, she wandered; it helped to keep the sad thoughts at bay, just for a while, even if she hadn't been allowed to really talk to the other ladies who lived there.
( madame prudence wouldn't allow the girls to talk to her, and the pendleton brothers insisted that she leave the whores be. )
but then the golden cat opened its doors to business once more and no longer could little emily wander as she once had; especially after two nearly successful attempts at escape.
it is when locked away and left to her own devices, that that dreadful tempest of emotion comes rushing back, surging through her like a wave. it undulates like the sea——first frustration, rage that fumes, then guilt, helplessness, and finally she is only sad.
dirtied knees pulled to frill-adorned chest, the sadness creeps with the cold up from the floor and into her bones, spilling over cheeks salty and raw not long after. in these past six months little emily has cried so much she wonders at how she has not yet drowned.
d r o w n i n g . . .
the air around her feels heavy. full. frigid. faintly familiar——she has felt it in her dreams before but she can't quite recall it. and then, a foreign voice pulls her from her suffocating sorrows;
emily uncurls and rises without really realizing it. she turns, slowly, and now she stands face to face with...
...a ghost.
"how do you know my name?"
ooc; help me.
