Emily Perish.
"Emmy"
"Emmy"
Appearance
Full Name
Age
Sex
Sexuality
Birthplace
Characteristics
Goals and aspirations
CV
Crime
Background
Power
Skills & Abilities
Cherubic in face and stature, Emily Perish barely crests a five-foot build and her weight can be configured in comparison to a sack of fluff when hoisted over one’s shoulder. Described as short, flitty, and almost doll-esque in her veneer, Emily has the pure, utter look of disarming innocence and manipulation to the masses. Refined further by her pale, sallow complexion with the faintest bite of rouge to her bow shaped mouth, she can achieve expressions of complacent kindness and harmless qualms. She heralds a sort of delicacy and traditional beauty, but the sort that most find in the pages of a childlike tale befitting the princess locked in a tower.
Emily’s sense of style has developed into the embellishment and suffocating, to don herself in heavy coats no matter the weather and sheathing her person in full length-ed garb from head to toe. Not able to withstand the cold has often cantered after her and has panned into a near uncontrollable compulsion to dress up in whichever wears she can find. Almost ridiculously donned and considered an improvement when she procures a decent, although loose sweater over a pair of lord-forbid tights tucked into the heavy tread of her laced up boots. [Perhaps this a need to shield herself, but a girl would never say.]
Hair the colour of rust, that almost darkens to bark in the winter, is not contained about her rounded cheeks and dark, almost black-blue eyes, incapable of being swept back into a proper tail or even doused down into a manageable curl. Wearing it long keeps it moderately tamed enough to keep the tresses from suffering humidity and having long been used to the heat on her neck, it’s be taken note of worry when Emily fusses with it - often indicating a nervous habit when she’s twisting it around her fingers.
Emily’s sense of style has developed into the embellishment and suffocating, to don herself in heavy coats no matter the weather and sheathing her person in full length-ed garb from head to toe. Not able to withstand the cold has often cantered after her and has panned into a near uncontrollable compulsion to dress up in whichever wears she can find. Almost ridiculously donned and considered an improvement when she procures a decent, although loose sweater over a pair of lord-forbid tights tucked into the heavy tread of her laced up boots. [Perhaps this a need to shield herself, but a girl would never say.]
Hair the colour of rust, that almost darkens to bark in the winter, is not contained about her rounded cheeks and dark, almost black-blue eyes, incapable of being swept back into a proper tail or even doused down into a manageable curl. Wearing it long keeps it moderately tamed enough to keep the tresses from suffering humidity and having long been used to the heat on her neck, it’s be taken note of worry when Emily fusses with it - often indicating a nervous habit when she’s twisting it around her fingers.
Full Name
Emily Aspen Perish.
Age
Nineteen.
Sex
Female.
Sexuality
Bisexual-Pansexual; Emily does not defer to one’s state of sexuality, but rather their compatibility to [current] herself. This could also be in relation to the fact that Emmy is very naive to these intricacies of attraction.
Birthplace
London
Characteristics
In commonality, Emmy can be disarmingly sweet and a compliment to those around her, building up a bravado of cheer and wide smiles, laughter and obnoxious joviality. But those that smile the most often have the most to hide and Emmy would gladly give a cold, cynical detachment in place of her fabricated niceness if not for the compulsion to be, well, not like her mother. In this, Emily is an enigma, not for the sake of mystery in the uniforms of cliche, feminine wiles, but because she’s nothing more than a quivering pile of pent up mommy issues. A mask, a mirror, Emmy has perfected the fine art of giving people what they want for the sake of throwing a majour tantrum about it later in the solitary confinement of her home, and bemoaning of that “no one understands her”. She’d say she has a reason, but that’s up to personal speculation.
Friendly to the point of annoyance, Emmy hangs upon her peers with a weight of familiarity and kinship, if not forced, and Emmy’s saccharine habits often break down suspicions to what is really pooling around inside her head. To break open the seams would reveal something dark and dismal, warranted by a desire to change herself and her life, to be purely and utterly honest and if she were under confession: to be loved. However, genuine circumstance leaves her afraid, unable to respond acutely to truth and preferring to mark lies, upon lies, upon lies until a bedlam of mistrust and hate festers.
Though considerably intelligent, if her habit of study and rigorous note-taking had anything to do with it, Emily often downplays this in favour of appearing airy and bubble-headed. Smart girls don’t woe and depress, they achieve and strive, and Emmy won’t accept any less from herself even if she has to lie to herself everyday.
Friendly to the point of annoyance, Emmy hangs upon her peers with a weight of familiarity and kinship, if not forced, and Emmy’s saccharine habits often break down suspicions to what is really pooling around inside her head. To break open the seams would reveal something dark and dismal, warranted by a desire to change herself and her life, to be purely and utterly honest and if she were under confession: to be loved. However, genuine circumstance leaves her afraid, unable to respond acutely to truth and preferring to mark lies, upon lies, upon lies until a bedlam of mistrust and hate festers.
Though considerably intelligent, if her habit of study and rigorous note-taking had anything to do with it, Emily often downplays this in favour of appearing airy and bubble-headed. Smart girls don’t woe and depress, they achieve and strive, and Emmy won’t accept any less from herself even if she has to lie to herself everyday.
Goals and aspirations
Emmy has often, waspishly, admitted to wanting to be an educator. But then she had also wanted to be a cook, a dancer, a singer, a politician even. Her desires and goals reflect the usual uproar and fashion of her peers, but if one were to inquire what Emmy truly wants, she’d fumble and admit that she really doesn’t know. Maybe it’s to finally break away the shell of her issues and qualms, to live honestly, but Emmy wouldn’t, isn’t, one to admit truths like that.
CV
Graced with high marks, Emmy was always astute and well educated in academics but paled when it came to arts of visual aide and choir. She was more logical than whimsical in her studious career and was just fine when she was praised for her power of deduction rather than creativity. She did what she had to, if only to use her academic prowess to further enhance her chances of leaving her mother behind and enjoying the splendors of her life in London. Emily was bequeathed the chance to attend prestigious universities once she graduated, back-boned and shelled by scholarships when her mother could not hope to afford such pomp education.
She’s done a fair number of odd jobs since was capable at sixteen, and her latest occupation was assisting in managing a hole-in-the-wall establishment of a bookstore.
She’s done a fair number of odd jobs since was capable at sixteen, and her latest occupation was assisting in managing a hole-in-the-wall establishment of a bookstore.
Crime
The file says: destruction of property, and a rather flimsy DUI [at best, she'd mutter], but Emmy would laugh, barbarously so, and say that it was just a misunderstanding! Though caught in the act, Emily was beyond inebriated to really even understand what she was doing, but being among a group of unsavory youths by simply being “in the area” doesn’t sit quite well when a brooding judge is staring down her nose at you. Being her first offense, Emily was instructed to undergo classes to try and stave off the inevitability to become an alcoholic, catch ‘em young was her arresting officer’s motto, and to attend community service for the amount of wreckage she endorsed while at the local park because people really, really love their slides and swing sets and don't take kindly to a dismal little buggy of a vehicle being meshed against them in a heap of smoldering plastic and steam.
Background
While her production of self could be classified as “well off”, Emmy’s life was anything but. For the sake of woeful hubris, Emily never did allow people to come over to her house, no matter how lavishly she painted it up to an illustration of perfection, and avoided car pools to ward off the embarrassment because just - no. Emily didn’t accept her life for what is was, she refused to believe that poverty in the ghettos of London was to be her foundation. But, her mother seemed happy enough, bright even, and Emily could never quite grasp why. It perplexed her at a young age and no amount of better teachings in the ways of life from Margaret Perish could convince her cherubic daughter otherwise.
Thus spurred the long, drawn animosity between the two women of pale-faced-blue-eyed likeness.
Without the doting of a father figure, unless her uncle counted [but he was just as confusing as her mother was] and Emily refused to think that he was fit enough to be even considered such, Emily developed a cynic-pessimism rather early. She rejected various methods of reality and decided that she was going to have to reply on herself and her own strengths, know matter how few they actually were. Emily then began to ridge herself with what people typically enjoyed, all wide simpers and bright eyes and oozing cheer because no one likes a mopey girl. It was here she learned the long, well founded method of lies and she took to it like a bird in flight and did she soar.
Emmy continued to fortify this mask, slipping into her tales like an old, worn skin, a glove fitted exactly to her specifications. She molded herself constantly to the preferences of her peers and did so with finesse and class and if she happened to go home and cry herself to sleep, no one needed to know about it. Thus did Emily Perish live her life this way, never really knowing herself, letting things pile up until she could just slip into her own, pretty little lies and convince herself, just enough - that this was real.
When the chance of university came about, Emily was too chipper and pleased to leave behind their open-floor apartment, taking with her; her coats, her belongings, fitting everything pristine into her cases of splitting seam and rolling into the building with the air of that she belonged there and this was her new court. She laughed, obtuse, loud, she accepted everyone into her fold with a massive amount of exuberance that some found her odd even, bubble-headed sure, but generally harmless. And Emily didn’t mind that, not one bit, like a snake shading its skin, Emmy became just what they wanted.
But for all her strive and achievement, her lying and her woeful thoughts, it only took one night to immediately throw her entire works into a disarray and for her record to be scorned with an ill-favouring ebony smudge - and no amount of scrubbing could remove it, much to Emily’s scorn.
Thus spurred the long, drawn animosity between the two women of pale-faced-blue-eyed likeness.
Without the doting of a father figure, unless her uncle counted [but he was just as confusing as her mother was] and Emily refused to think that he was fit enough to be even considered such, Emily developed a cynic-pessimism rather early. She rejected various methods of reality and decided that she was going to have to reply on herself and her own strengths, know matter how few they actually were. Emily then began to ridge herself with what people typically enjoyed, all wide simpers and bright eyes and oozing cheer because no one likes a mopey girl. It was here she learned the long, well founded method of lies and she took to it like a bird in flight and did she soar.
Emmy continued to fortify this mask, slipping into her tales like an old, worn skin, a glove fitted exactly to her specifications. She molded herself constantly to the preferences of her peers and did so with finesse and class and if she happened to go home and cry herself to sleep, no one needed to know about it. Thus did Emily Perish live her life this way, never really knowing herself, letting things pile up until she could just slip into her own, pretty little lies and convince herself, just enough - that this was real.
When the chance of university came about, Emily was too chipper and pleased to leave behind their open-floor apartment, taking with her; her coats, her belongings, fitting everything pristine into her cases of splitting seam and rolling into the building with the air of that she belonged there and this was her new court. She laughed, obtuse, loud, she accepted everyone into her fold with a massive amount of exuberance that some found her odd even, bubble-headed sure, but generally harmless. And Emily didn’t mind that, not one bit, like a snake shading its skin, Emmy became just what they wanted.
But for all her strive and achievement, her lying and her woeful thoughts, it only took one night to immediately throw her entire works into a disarray and for her record to be scorned with an ill-favouring ebony smudge - and no amount of scrubbing could remove it, much to Emily’s scorn.
Power
Snake Skin; a witty little title of originality that has taken to Emily’s ability to shed her personality and tweak it to whatever she’s in need of. The exact limitations have not been tested and various theories assume that it’s a defense mechanism, but it’s fascinating none the less when one is to witness this eerie process. Emily can sustain a staggering amount of damage, a wealth of lacerations on her figure do not weep blood, but just expose the newly regenerated membrane beneath it’s flaking exterior. Peeling back, flaying away, her skin falls away into molted pieces, leaving her pink and vibrant if not just a bit vulnerable after the shedding. Much like the animal the moniker is derived from, her eyes take on a milky colour, hazing her vision into a tunnel, limiting her just enough to be rendered almost blind, this spurs a small amount of aggression and yet need of protection on her part.
Grievous injuries, however, could ultimately be her undoing, the depth of the wound could reach past her limitations and render her immobile until new cells regenerate and heal her body a new. However, in place, a scar lingers; a vivid line of white that stands out in a morbidly fascinating feature on her exposed self.
Any further abilities have been entirely discovered, just yet.
Grievous injuries, however, could ultimately be her undoing, the depth of the wound could reach past her limitations and render her immobile until new cells regenerate and heal her body a new. However, in place, a scar lingers; a vivid line of white that stands out in a morbidly fascinating feature on her exposed self.
Any further abilities have been entirely discovered, just yet.
Skills & Abilities
Build upon what you what know, rather than what you don’t.
Emily can lie her way through any situation and manipulation has oft been her glory in the wealth of social interactions, and persuasion, well, that just comes accumulated with the entire package that is Emily Aspen Perish.
Emily can lie her way through any situation and manipulation has oft been her glory in the wealth of social interactions, and persuasion, well, that just comes accumulated with the entire package that is Emily Aspen Perish.
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