Amelia Doreen Baker

[AMELIA DOREEN BAKER]

AmeliaDoreenBaker



•Animal crackers in my soup, monkies and rabbits loop the loop, gosh oh gee but I have fun, swallowing animals one by one.•

FULLNAME| Amelia Doreen Baker
BIRTHDAY| November 18th, 1709
IAMTHISYOUNG| 5
PINKORBLUE| female
OCCUPATION| child
SEXUALORIENTATION| What are you talking about? Boys have cooties.
MEMBERGROUP| The Royals

HAIRCOLOR| light red
EYECOLOR| dark brown
HOWIAMBUILT| like a little girl. Average body build, a bit thin.
THISHEIGHT| about 3’ 8”
THATWEIGHT| 39lbs
TATOOES| none
PIERCINGS| none
IHAVEATWIN| Shirley Temple
OVERALLLOOKS|
Amelia is a little angel. She has soft locks of hair that curl down about two inches above her shoulder line, and often prefers to wear a ribbon or a butterfly clip in it. While she still has obvious baby fat, it only manages to emphasize her cute grin, which the girl almost never fails to show. There is a small gap between her front teeth, the cause of her slight lisp.
It is incredibly rare that one would find this little girl wearing anything but a dress or something of similar appearance. Amelia prefers to dress and act like the princess she seems to think she is. If a ribbon or butterfly clip fail to occupy her hair (and even then sometimes she merges them together anyways), it will almost certainly be replaced with a tiara to match one of her dresses. One of her recent loves is Disney classics. Well… more importantly the princess dresses that came with it. She has a complete set of every one of the princess dresses from the classics (Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Ariel, Belle, … and even Asmerelda from Hunchback of Notredome).
Being a young girl, Amelia also enjoys getting her hands on make-up once and a while. If someone sees her with an… interesting array of make-ups on, then they can pretty much chalk it down to “Amelia got into the make-up again…”. Over the years she’s gotten better at applying the make-up… but her love of a variety of colours (and therefore wanting to put them all on) makes for an entertaining outcome

ILOVETHIS|
• wearing dresses
•playing dress-up
• going to the park
• meeting new people
• tea parties!
• going horse back riding
• singing and listening to music
• Disney classics
• make-up
IHATETHIS|
• being told what to do when I don’t want to do it
• boy colours
• scary movies
• being treated like I’m not old enough to be told what’s going on
• the rules about fraternizing with certain people
• being told ‘no’
MYSTRENGHTS|
• convincing people to do things for me
• being a princess/ angel/ perfect =P
• making cookie-cut-outs with a cookie cutter
• getting really high on the swings
• not getting ice cream and candy all over my face when I eat it
• singing
• flexible and agile
• has loads of energy (especially when you give her candy)
MYWEAKNESSES|
• colouring inside the lines
• thinking about my parents makes me feel sad
• not particularly strong… or tall
• people don’t often take me seriously… at first
• becomes easily grumpy if my sleeping habits or eating habits are disrupted
• sharing/ letting people do what they want (for example, when playing with another person doing the “And then you say ‘………’ and put this here”)
QUIRKS&HABITS|
• twirling hair
• rocking back and forth on my feetsies
• spinning the hem of my dresses
• sucking my thumb
• has a bit of a lisp
• chewing on my teddy bears’ paws
OVERALLPERSONALITY|
Behaviour in the 1700s had been incredibly strict. As such, Amelia finds herself to be a (occasionally) well-behaved child. She was taught all of the basic manners; sitting with her back to the chair while eating, lifting her pinkie finger when she drinks tea (okay, that’s something she’d seen her mother do, and since then her herself has copied it), patting her lips with a napkin, chewing with her mouth closed, and of course she owns a set of her very own exquisite manners. Being a young child and a lady also sets her at a particular disadvantage for being taken advantage of in this peculiar, old-fashioned town. She generally listens to what she was told to do, simply because that is just what ladies did back in her day. The recent concept of “women are equals”, while appealing, is quite foreign to her. This, however, has very little to do with the little bud on the inside (the little bud that shall never bloom).

When one looks upon little Amelia they see the epiphany of any stereotypical little girl’s dream. Amelia takes the term “Royal” to a bit of an extent. Had she been born in a different century, she would have been considered the little pop-diva. As it is, she loves to adorn herself in dresses, slip on a tiara and play princess of the castle; where everyone else is either her prince charming, maidservant, or silly guard that always stumbles in when she calls –sending her into a fit of giggles, if I might add. Amelia enjoys picking flowers, having tea-parties, riding horses, and other princess’y activities (had she passed away when she was older, she’s sure she would have been able to use a bow and arrow for play-time too). She is dainty, and has this sense of superiority over many people and enjoys bossing them around.

Despite living the little girl dream, Amelia occasionally feels a sense of jealousy as she looks at others. Perhaps it is the mind-set that will never change, but she notices things that she doesn’t have, and sometimes she finds herself wanting it. Amelia has been around for a long time- three hundred one to be exact- and in her un-life, she has seen many people come and go. A few are “caught” and still remain, but none of them are her age. In fact, it’s rather rare whenever a child her age comes to the town, and when they do, it is rare that said child would meet the same fate as herself. While she sometimes wishes there could be another child, some part in her realizes that she could never truly wish such a thing upon another child. Just under the surface of that giggly, sometimes stubbornly grumpy little girl is a woman wishing to blossom, and she feeds on the years that she’s missing. Once and a while the woman that she would have become shines through, just hinting at how many years she holds under her belt.

HOMETOWN| Belmill
PARENTSI| Hawthorn and Peter Baker
SIBLINGS| unknown
IHAVEPETS| a bunny named Fluffy
CURRENTLYLIVING| in Belmill
MODEOFDEATH ran over by a horse and buggy on October 4th, 1714
OVERALLHISTORY|
The five years of Amelia’s life were well lived. Her family had been in the middle class, maybe a bit poorer then that, but the young girl never new the difference. In her eyes, there was her mom and her dad, and they both loved each other and they loved her. At this time, it was rare for her aunt to visit, as she had a family of her own to tend to, but she knew her mother’s sister fondly.
It wasn’t until the fateful gloomy day that everything changed. She remembers the little details faintly; a few townsfolk had been acting strangely. New curfews were being lain out; not that it bothered the five-year-old though, her bedtime had been set for 7:30 anyways. Her and her mother were in the market place, and she can remember the strong scent of a heavy rainfall on the way. They were just making their way to her Uncle’s shop to pick up a fresh loaf of bread when the storm hit. Amelia, young and aloof as she was, had been standing in front of one of the windows, staring longingly at a teddy bear. By now the details of said teddy bear are blurred, but she strongly remembers that it was the cutest, biggest, softest looking teddy bear she had ever laid her eyes on. She hadn’t noticed when her mother crossed the crowded street filled with bustling people trying to get out of the rain but still reach their destinations.
She heard her name being called out and turned; panicking for a moment when she realized that her mother was no longer behind her. When her eyes locked onto her calling mom, she ran towards her, relieved and still trying to shake off the clinging vestiges of fear. It was about mid-way across the road that the lightning, and seconds after the thunder struck. She had failed to notice the near-by buggy; and it would later be revealed that the horse pulling the buggy was young, and still being trained. The poor thing reared in fright, and darted forward just before the driver could jump aboard.
Amelia doesn’t remember much after feeling her legs snap under the force of the horse’s hooves. The shocking fear and pain washing over her as her head cracked against the stones. From the corner of her eye she could see the wheel inching closer and closer to her face; but she couldn’t get up in time before everything went black.

It took the young girl a few days to wake up; long after her funeral. It was confusing to be told that her parents had left the day after her funeral; they hadn’t been able to handle the loss of their only child. But she was still alive… why would they leave her?
Amelia soon caught on to the secret that very night. After she woke up from a nightmare and found herself staring down at her body.

Her aunt moved away not long after the funeral, "creeped out" as she was by the state of the town. Which left Amelia all alone in the town. For a while she was moved around between other ghost families until the Cross family decided to take the little orphan under their wing. Amelia currently resides with the Wheelers. While she has a poor relationship with her foster family, the girl is grateful for their generosity.

YOURNAMEI| Teris
IAMTHISYOUNG| I am 16, going on 17…
GOTEXPERIENCE| about… 3 years of role-playing experience
WHYIJOINED| ‘cause it’s awesome xD
SAMPLEROLEPLAY|

It was incredibly boring at work. No one -no one- ever comes in, and when they did it was just to escape from the snow, or rain, or sleet, or whatever the hell was falling from the skies that day. Which, knowing Kenton, could be lasagne one day, and bloody chickens the next. The boss never stopped by either. He was probably off getting high or drinking. Daviel's eyes glared at the wall for a moment, 'Or looking for a hooker.' The only thing that could cross his mind after that was Ren. If his boss even thought of touching her Daviel would have to seriously consider shooting someone in the face. His face scrunched up into something of a constipated scowl. No one touched his Ren without his permission. ... Unless it was her brother 'cause he highly suspected he wouldn't touch her wrongly. ... And because if Raiden really wanted to, there's not much Daviel could do.

The very thought of Ren, though, eventually brought a smile to his face -after he was done scowling over his boss, that is. His eyes glazed over and he stared at the wall with a content, stupid grin. He remembered the first time seeing her, in the cafeteria, and how his throat had tightened and made his blood pump faster. Her friend -Teris he later came to know her as- was pretty too, but the moment she'd opened her mouth, and that high squeaky voice hit his ears was the moment he'd effectively been “cock blocked” as the saying goes -or something like that. Americans had strange 'sayings', in his opinion.

Sure, Ren was a little rough on the edges perhaps, but that somehow made him love her all the more. Maybe because all of the imperfections made her perfect. She spoke for herself and wasn't one to back down from something; strong. She was fairly strong, in both senses; of course he could still over-power her if he wanted to, but after everything she's been through he would never be able to lay a controlling hand on her. Beneath the powerful, cranky, and tough facade, Ren was equally hurt, tired, scared, and just another teenage girl with problems bigger then they should be. He saw that side of her more then the other, and it made him want to beat anyone and everyone who'd ever hurt her and who would ever hurt her.

Slowly, in the far reaches of his mind, he could feel that addicting, enticing want. It crept up like a sneaky cloud, until -once he noticed it- he couldn't really get his mind off of it. His heart began to beat steadier, harder, and he glanced around. Still no one. Surly it wouldn't hurt if he stepped around to the back for a few minutes, twenty minutes tops. He gave the store one more look-over before slipping away to the back, where he paused for a moment. Somehow the thought of what he was about to do gave him a thrill, simply the wrongness of it stirred him and made him want to do it all the more. There was still no sound, and he figured he should get this done and over with before someone did show up.

He leaned against one of the piles of moving boxes, glancing down at his waist line with a little of a grin. His gaze turned upwards as his hand began slowly moving over the curve between his legs. It excited him, and before long, he couldn't take it much longer. Going to the door, he pressed his head to it. Still not hearing anyone, he went back over to his boxes and began unbuckling his belt. The two sides dangled on either sides of his hips, clinking slightly. His button was next, and soon after it his zipper, making a satisfying sound as it slipped down. Finally he had easy access. He began working around his pants, widening the zipper area and pushing it down slightly. Another grin worked across his face as he reached down to stroke hi-

The door burst open, and Daviel let out a squeak, trying to figure out how to explain his pants being open to his boss. Ice seemed to flood his veins and he hid his waist behind the boxes, a wide-eyed terrified look turning towards the door. It was worse when he saw that the person standing at the door was non-other then his sister's boyfriend... and Ren's best friend... and his enemy. The little shit apparently hadn't noticed a thing and simply went on his little tangent. ”Daviel, I do believe I should apologize for the way I have been acting.” Maybe he should really be apologizing about coming at such a terrible time and getting the fuck out. Daviel's eyes narrowed slightly as he fiddled to do up his belt.

”We are basically family, and I should have been treating you like a gentlemen, not a pest to be liquidated. You're just in an unfortunate situation that you can't and couldn't control, maybe instead of fighting against you, I could help you with it.” “Skippy” moved away from the door, but Daviel didn't dart towards the door; he was still working on putting on his belt. He could feel his face was warm, and probably had been since the little shit just burst in. How embarrassing. To be caught by his baby sister's boyfriend... when he was about to jerk off. ”Come for a walk with me, Ren and I are deeply regretful for our actions. We should have been more compassionate to you; we were both like you once.” His eyes narrowed on Robin, further. His and Ren's relationship was none of the little shit's concern. Sure, they were going through a bumpy patch due to the circumstances... but he knew Ren and him would work through it. Without “Robin's” help.

Of course, jumping the kid as he walked out of the room wouldn't be a good idea. Something told him that wouldn't help him in the least with the Ren-and-his-relationship-being-in-a-rough-patch ordeal. Nor would his sister be ecstatic to know that he fried her boyfriend; more-so now that her other little friend, Shin, was in the hospital in a coma. Finally getting his belt to stay on and straightening himself up, he walked out of the back room with as much dignity as he could muster. ”Sure, I'll just be a second closing up the shop.” Some part of him was jumping in joy that he didn't have to stay here much longer; even if it was eclipsed by the powerful feeling of suspicion.

“Locking up” wasn't really as bad-ass as it sounded. Huge pillars of bomb-proof steel didn't slide over the windows with a huge bang; bars didn't slam across the door; and lasers didn't fill the unoccupied isles. What a disappointment. Especially since it would take that kind of equipment to keep a store safe in a town like this. No. Daviel turned off the lights, flipped the sign to 'Closed and waited for “Robin” to leave the building so he could lock the door behind them. The pathetic security around here was upsetting. Especially since he was walking out of here side-by-side the Devil himself. Shouldn't there be a panic button in here, like they have with taxis? He just has to subtly push a button and ninja policemen will come to the rescue like in movies.

Outside in the cold snow, Daviel shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, trying to keep them from freezing. He hated the snow. ”Okay, let's go I guess.” He said with little enthusiasm, falling into place beside the little shit at a respectable distance. Which, in his mind, was far enough away so he figured he could out-run “Skippy Harper”.