Estelle Five

[Reld]

Your name: Reeellld, the pink bunny princess who is not-so-secretly a ninja.
Random fact about you: You can’t see me, Imma NINJA!
Other: You should go read The Thirteenth Tale. Diane Setterfield is an amazing writer! Oh yea. *cough* The actual character. She's kinda crapped out... sorry dudes. I haven't completely gotten the hang of her personality quite yet, she's very new.
How did you find out about VoB? A tellytubby ran up and told me.

Full name: Estelle Adele Five
Nicknames: Essie, Five, Ez, Five of Spades
Birthday: October 12th, 1916
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Sexual orientation: Straight
Appearance: Essie takes her height from her father, at around 5'7". She isn't near plump, but not really thin, either. She's right between.
Her skin is a ghostly pale color, her eyes a dull gray. Essie's hair is long with some wave to it, a coppery red shade, and very unruly. She has a pretty face, and rarely thinks otherwise.
Personality: Around strangers she portrays herself as the type that you might think to put your trust in and come to for a nice talk. She's polite, well clothed, and pleasant - if just a bit reserved.
But behind this exterior is a completely different girl. She's a sly, self-regarding, cunning, little thing that can have quite the temper and lies through her teeth if she thinks there would be any self-profit in it. Very few people see past her mask. She feels like she has enough to hide from people not to let it down easily. And it's just easier for her this way, to hide the pain she doesn't understand, although it's the only way she has tried...
You see, Essie's stubborn like that - to an almost humorous extreme. She'll keep at something and never like giving up. She doesn't like to admit herself wrong.

Not to make her out as an inhuman villain with some of the above. She is capable of compassion, she just doesn't let many close to her. From her point of view there are too many dangers in doing so. She isn't used to having human companionship, she has kept to an isolated lifestyle.
She's a tough bugger, she's gotten herself through a lot.
Likes:
Singing. You wouldn't know it, she's shy about her voice, not wanting anyone to hear. But she's quite good.
Music.
Pastel colors.
Pearls.
The afternoon.
Spiders.
Just letting loose and... screaming.
Being outside.
Dislikes:
Socks.
Those who show pity, especially towards themselves. Toughen up.
Sore losers. Then again, who likes sore losers?
Unnecessary babble, although she's learned to stand it some, with .
Pervy men.
History:
Essie's childhood didn't help with molding her into the young lady (yes, I know, lady might be debatable, but lets just go with it, hmm?) she is today...

Her father's name was Roscoe. Her mother's Malissa.

Her parents rented a nice flat in the middle of London.
Her father's Great Aunt Mercy moved into the spare bedroom before Essie was born, when his mother died and that house was taken by the bank.
Essie had always been rather frightened of Great Aunt Mercy, who she secretly called The Great Clout. It isn't very hard to guess why she called her that, now is it?
The Great Clout always just sat in the living room, staring off into space and plucking leaves from a poor plant that sat next to her armchair. It seemed like she had sunk into herself, she was immersed in wrinkles. If Essie even came close The Clout would make this odd growling noise and, if she caught the girl, Essie wouldn't be able to hear for a few hours afterward.
So needless to say, Essie stayed away from the old bat.

When her parents disappeared, for months at a time to who knows where, Essie was left with the bitter old aunt. It wasn't much supervision. Essie had to find ways to survive by herself, and did whatever she wanted as long as she was careful to avoid the living room.
She'd never gotten to know her parents well, so it didn't matter to her weather they were home or not. When one or both of them actually were they didn't pay much attention to her anyways.

When she was fifteen The Great Clout died. It took Essie a few days to realize she hadn't moved from her chair, that even The Clout was holding too still.
Plus the plant was flourishing.

Pretty soon the landlord wasn't happy about no rent coming in. It had been the aunt who scraped up enough money to pay for everything. Essie's parents hadn't been heard of in five months, and she actually started to wonder if they were coming back.
So Essie tried taking charge of the finances herself. It didn't work out very well; the banker she knew her parents had funds with raised his eyebrows, as charming as she conducted herself, and mumbled apologizes as he showed her the door.
She managed to keep the landlord off her back for a few months, and then had to avoid running into him - which caused her to spend very little time at the flat. But she couldn't avoid fate forever.

One night she came home, after a week of hiding at a friend's, to find the door locked. The key she kept on her didn't work in the lock, and the spare was missing from it's place under the carpet. She checked and re-checked if she had the right flat. Yes. Yes she did.
Someone must have heard her from inside the flat, because a woman, somewhere in her mid-fifties, opened the door. Essie's mouth dropped open, she didn't know what to say to see someone in her home.
"Oh, can I help you, dear?" were the woman's words, that lead to Essie being brought into the house, offered soup, eating three helpings even though it wasn't the best stuff in the world.
That's how Essie found out her home had been newly rented. All traces of her family were gone; either thrown out or sold.

Essie stayed away from her old life from then on.
She found herself a new, shabby, flat to live at, and got some work as a typist at a small newspaper.