Post by EMILIE SIMONE on Oct 10, 2011 0:32:34 GMT -5
... Emilie Trillian Simone*
* To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. *
[/size]* To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. *
...basics*
name
Emilie Trillian Simone
nickname
It’s just Emilie. Always. Unless you’re Christian, and can get away with throwing the occasional “Aunt” into the mix.
age
Seventeen
gender
Most definitely female, thank you
grade
Junior
hometown
She was born in Kapalua, Hawaii while her parents and sister were on holiday, but was raised in Strasbourg, France.
sexuality
Men are quite nice, thanks.
personification
Irene Adler
status
Dormant
face claim
Michelle Trachtenberg
...appearance*
hair color
The color varies somewhat between dark and light brown, but always naturally so. It’s curled, softly, and she only ever straightens it for special occasions. It also has that almost obnoxiously soft feel to it, and smells faintly of lilacs and orange crème, which goes a lot better together than you’d think.
eye color
Somewhere between blue and grey, they’re sharp; the sort of eyes one often finds hard to forget.
build
Slight, to say the least. Emilie runs frequently and eats very healthy; needless to say, she has a rather good figure, although petite.
height
Five feet, three and a quarter inches
clothing style
Emilie’s style is exceedingly feminine, and much more modest than many of the other girls at her school. She’s exceedingly fond of skirts, but not ones that go up past her fingertips, and doesn’t mind lace or ruffles either, so long as they’re tasteful. Being firm in the belief of leaving more to mystery, she makes sure never to wear a low cut shirt at the same time as a short skirt or short shorts. The thought makes her cringe. Mostly, however, she can be seen in dresses. She likes the way they twirl.
distinctive traits
More than anything, it’s her eyes people usually remember. They are, as with most people, her most expressive feature. Usually wide and doe-like, they give off a very innocent vibe most of the time, although it’s clear there’s something exceedingly sharp beneath them.
She never smiles with her teeth, and hasn’t since she was about four years old.
...personal*
personality
Cool
Emilie is, above all else, collected. She doesn’t lose her temper and she doesn’t get involved in fights, unless they’re intellectual (although she prefers to call those “duels” in the privacy of her own mind, because it sounds a bit more interesting), preferring to go about anything vengeful in the most subtle way possibly. She’s the type of person to wait trouble spots out, believing quite deeply that although good things come to those who wait, it is occasionally beneficial to speed the process along with a little push. It’s one of her favorite things to do, plant the seed and watch it grow over time. Sometimes the seed grows an apple of chaos. Sometimes nothing. She likes to wait it out, anyway—despite her calm demeanor, she likes the thrill of the wait.
Brilliant
Straight A’s are all Emilie has ever known, just as well as advanced classes and various, if somewhat unnecessary, tutors. She’s well aware she’s smart, and not at all afraid to show it. Not as outwardly conceited about it as many would like to think, however, she tends to keep the good grades and classic literature to herself not out of shame, but convenience. There are only a few people in the world worth discussing such things with, and for the most part she’d rather not waste her time with people who don’t actually know what they’re talking about. Or how to talk, as the case may be. Having grown up in France, French is obviously her native language, although she was taught English from birth at home, and thus has an almost undetectable accent. In addition to French and English, Emilie is fluent in Latin and Spanish, and is a good speaker in Portuguese and Greek. Most of all, Emilie likes to lead people around in conversation. Answering questions with questions, dodging them like bullets and returning fire with clipped words and sentences designed to drive one loopy. She thinks of it a bit like a dance. Or the gallows, should she really be given time to contemplate the idea of it. Either way, the words are like string, winding her opponent round and round and round until they either become tangled, break free, or hang. Again, it doesn’t much matter which, although she does enjoy a good verbal execution.
Lonely
At the heart of it all, of course, Emilie is just a teenage girl. As unsatisfied with her life as most are, although perhaps more disgusted by this fact because she knows just how good she really has it. Still, she’s insecure. She feels isolated due to her family situation, and knows nothing she can do will ever be able to help it, so she tries not to think about it. But that’s like telling a dog not to chase a car it knows it won’t catch. She wouldn’t know what to do if she actually caught the answer, and she’s awfully certain she wouldn’t like it, but the thrill of the chase keeps her turning things over no matter how much she’d rather forget. And despite having Christian around as supposed company, she’s found he more often than not makes things much worse than she already can; odd, as she has an uncanny knack for that sort of thing.
past
Emilie Trillian Simone was born on April 29, 1993—just under four weeks premature—while her parents, Angelique and Damien, celebrated their daughter Katrina’ birthday in the Hawaiian town of Kapalua. A bit of an elaborate gesture for a seven year-old, sure, but the Simones were wealthy enough to pull it off, even with the medical expenses that came from Emilie’s birth. There were few complications, luckily enough, and Emilie was declared perfectly healthy after only a five day stay in the hospital, and was allowed to fly back to France after two months, per doctor’s orders.
Back in the family’s home in Strausburg, life went on as normal. Or, well, as normal as life for the Simone’s could be. Being the owner of a very large, very successful international business, Damien was often traveling around various places in Europe, returning home only between business to spend time with his family. When he was around, they were happy. When he wasn’t, life went on.
Emilie grew up separately from her sister, more due to their significant age difference than anything else. She was a quiet child when Katrina was loud, but despite (or perhaps because of) that, twice as sneaky. From a very early age, Emilie was well aware of the power a simple look or a few well-arranged words could have, and she took advantage of said knowledge in almost every way possible, almost ruthlessly. When she broke a very expensive vase at the age of five (an accident), all it took was a bit of frowning, some trembling of her lips, and a very horrible lie about how she’d been playing with her dolls and bumped into the table on accident, and she was in. Due to just how horribly put-together the lie was, her parents instantly thought she’d been trying to cover for Katrina. Emilie’s older sister received the blame for the damage, despite the strong probability of her being at school during the time of the incident, and all the little brunette could think to do was smile about it.
Five years was also the age when she first met Adolfo Reichenbach and his grandson, Christian. Adolfo was married to Emilie’s cousin, Jeanette, and although Emilie doesn’t remember much of the wedding or its following festivities, she never really forgot the sound of her new family member’s laugh when she did a little curtsey upon being introduced, or the sight of a boy her age with big, bright blue eyes and a strange something behind his smile. She liked him. He was funny.
For the most part, Emilie’s world was a good one. She had opportunities and she had smarts and she had ambition, and she went far with all of them; as far as an elementary school girl could go, anyway. She found a passion in singing at around second grade, and pursued it as far as she possibly could for her age with the immense encouragement of her parents and even her sister, who couldn’t help but notice that Emilie was actually quite good.
Of course, everything changes eventually.
Emilie doesn’t remember much of the accident due to the concussion she suffered from, but she remembers her family was driving through Germany on their way to Amsterdam. She remembers it was dark outside and that the cars moved much faster than they normally did, and she remembers some sort of horrid pop music Katrina must have been trying to enjoy playing on the radio, and she remembers a very loud honk of a horn.
When she woke up ten hours later, she was alone.
present
Katrina took care of her after that, having gotten out with only a few large cuts on her arms and a fractured wrist. Emilie suffered nothing more than the concussion, although it was a rather bad one. Their parents, of course, didn’t make it out at all. They’d died on impact, according to the report.
Katrina and Emilie managed well enough, lucky that they were that Katrina was old enough to become her younger sister’s legal guardian. Even luckier (depending on one’s way of looking at it) was just how quickly someone else came along. Someone with money enough to take care of them easily, and a familiarity with the family. In fact, he’d even been family, at one point. Just six months after the death of their parents, Katrina married her late cousin’s husband, Adolfo, and became a Reichenbach. They moved in that very night.
Emilie was, to say the least, moderately displeased. She’d never been exceedingly fond of the bits of Adolfo she could remember, and the displeasure had only grown with each time he made a calling for Katrina during his courting. And then there was Christian. She had gone, in a matter of under ten years, from being his cousin by marriage to his great aunt, and there was really nothing more sickening than that in Emilie’s mind, it being that they were the same age. His personality was horrendous, and beyond exasperating, and yet, try as she might to hate him, she simply couldn’t, and it was beyond maddening. Living with him was even more horrid than she could have possibly imagined. Between Christian and his grandfather (not to mention the obnoxious amount of times Adolfo requested her presence for a simple song, the sudden influx in dance classes and horseback riding lessons and various other “womanly” activities thrust upon her by the old man) she didn’t know which she hated most. Katrina was absolutely no help, flitting about the house as though nothing in the world could bring her down, and shrugging off any hint of disgruntlement from Emilie with the pursed lips and condescending stare they shared. It was beyond infuriating.
Needless to say, Emilie was beyond thrilled when she first began attending Baum two years ago; being at the same school as Christian was preferred any day over being in the same house as Adolfo. Her grades are just as good as always, despite the fact that they gained her extra attention from the one man whose radar she’d have rather flown under, and her attitude is just as sly as ever. She’s waiting, you see, for something to happen. Something just interesting enough for her to get involved in. And if nothing of that sort comes along, well, she’s waiting until she’s old enough to move out and away from the Reichenbachs for good. Both of them, she tells herself. She hates both of them.
family
Angelique Simone: Mother, deceased at age 46
Damien Simone: Father, deceased at age 51
Katrina Reichenbach nee Simone Sister, age 24, married to Adolfo Reichenbach, and legal guardian to Emilie since the death of their parents just over three years ago. They get along well enough, although Emilie can’t pretend she’s not a bit peeved with her marriage to a man more than double her age. Still, Trina (although Emilie is fond of calling her Kat when particularly cross) is the only family Emilie has left, and she can’t help but put some value in that.
Adolfo Reichenbach: Brother-in-law, but certainly old enough to be her grandfather. She despises Adolfo, but does what he says because she has to, and it’s certainly much better to be on his good side than anywhere else. Because of her cousin’s previous marriage to him, she’s known of Adolfo since around age five, which perhaps makes it a bit simpler to live with him now.
Christian Reichenbach: Technically her Great Nephew, although they’re the same age. Again, due to her cousin’s marriage, she’s known him since childhood, and can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing in the slightest.
likes
Singing, although not for Adolfo
Piano, both playing it herself and listening to it played by someone else
Musicals, West Side Story being her current favorite—however, she refuses to listen to the songs unless actually at the theater or singing them herself, and absolutely abhors the film version
Foreign languages, in study and simply listening, despite being incredibly frustrated when she can’t understand them
Toying with people—she’s a tease in many ways, and adores verbal sparring
“Pushing the envelope,” so to speak
Classic literature, although she really just loves any book with more depth than a young adult novel. Significantly more depth.
The smell of Spring, although she likes the look of Autumn
Lilacs
Baby’s breath
dislikes
Adolfo
Horseback riding; it’s not the riding she detests so much as the fact that she’s forced to do it
Shellfish—she hates the smell, hates the taste, hates the slurping sound people make when they eat it
Dancing. Or, more specifically, dancing with Christian.
The Autobahn. Being where her parents died, she can’t really bring herself to travel on it anymore
Being out-witted
The smell of blood. The sight of it doesn’t bother her, but as soon as the smell hits her, she gets woozy
Potato chips, but only because of the way the grease gets all over her fingers
Bubblegum, as well as fruit-flavored gum. Anything but mint gum, anyway.
other notes
Her vocabulary inflates like a balloon when she’s angry, which can be quite amusing to watch.
...literature*
book title Sherlock Holmes (or, more specifically, “A Scandal in Bohemia”)
backstory
Now this here’s a story all about how
Holmes’ life got flipped turned upside down
And I’d like to take a minute so just sit right there
And tell you all about how Irene became…nope. I can’t do it anymore. It’s not worth the cleverness.
So basically Irene Adler was born (and raised) in New Jersey, but instead of the playground, spent more of her days onstage being an opera singer. Neat-o. She stopped all that before she turned thirty, though, and moved to London and did generally BAMF-y things there until she became a lover to the King of Bohemia (which is pretty BAMF-y in itself) and kept a photo of them together, which was a big ass no no. Holmes gets contacted because the king is supposed to be getting married and can’t let it get around that he canoodled with Ms. Adler, who was also getting married. Good ol’ Irene recognizes Holmes through his utterly pathetic disguise (lawlz, it was probs a good one, she’s just super great at everything lol) and ends up thwarting all his plans running off with her husband. She leaves a note behind for Holmes and the photograph, however, which he keeps because she’s just a BAMF and the only woman ever to outsmart him ever because she’s just super cool and awesome all the time.
The end.
...roleplayer*
name
Scoutbob Scoutpants
age
Why don't you go and ask Cowbob Ranchpants and his friend sir Eat-a-lot.
gender
That guy over there used to be the Atomic Flounder. I know he doesn't look like much now, but he could go back to crime just…like that.
rp experience
[narrator voice] One hour later. [/narrator voice]
how you found ouac
He's right Squidward, Seabears are all too real. Why once I met this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy's cousin...
rp sample
“I told you Patrick, I'm claustrophobic,” protested Squidward helplessly.
“Nice try Squidward, but there's no Santa Claus here,” said Patrick triumphantly.
