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[b]Name:[/b] Amelia Sevres-Lavere

[b]Age:[/b] 16

[b]Appearance:[/b] 

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An ungainly sprawl of legs and arms, genetics ensured that Amelia would never be stately and statuesque. Her cheekbones are too sharp, chin too pointed for conventional beauty, her nose a thin blade, her eyes slightly too large. [i]Striking[/i], that is perhaps a better word for her, once seen and never forgotten. She is quite diminutive for her age, at five foot one and a half inches – the half being important - and has long since resigned herself to being short. As a result, she is very good at walking in even the most vicious of heels.

Lithe and whipcord-lean, despite her colossal sweet tooth and its attendant predilection for lollipops – which she is almost never seen without – she wears tight tops and short skirts, clothes that flatter and support her very modest curves, tipping her just onto the feminine side of androgyny. 

This is not to say that she doesn’t have her own charms, of course: extraordinarily-pale, flawless skin makes her hair – dyed a brilliant, defiant red – stand out even more, and her lips are an expressive cupid’s bow, almost the same shade. Bright scarlet eyebrows arch dramatically over her eyes, often raised in wicked amusement or sardonic question, and piercings glitter at her ears – and in more private places.

[b]Talent: [/b]

Fire
Conjuration/Summoning (Objects)
Magitech

[b]Grimoire Appearance:[/b] 

Amelia’s grimoire is outwardly simple and relatively unadorned; smooth oiled black leather and a crimson bookmark that writhes with subtle flames at the corner of the eye, with a discreet lock keeping it shut. Inside, however, there is the beauty; the rich, creamy pages burst with colour and life, gilded and illuminated with a painstaking hand, handsomely illustrated and written with perfect penmanship. It is also small, perfect for stuffing inside a pocket, pouch or – in a pinch – waistband, and fits Amelia’s dextrous hands well.

[b]First Spells: [/b]

1. Fire – Heat Globe: Heat surrounds Amelia in a large if somewhat wobbly globe, warm enough to keep her snug and comfortable even in inclement weather, but never hot enough to burn.

2. Conjuration/Summoning - Brasswork: Amelia can conjure small, simple objects made of brass, none of them larger than her cupped hands.

3. Magitech – Entrapment : Amelia can store minor magic and magical effects into an object, ready for later use.

[b]Personality:[/b]

Brash and uninhibited, a middle-finger perpetually upraised to the world as a whole, Amelia – from the top of her spiky crimson hair to her dainty painted toes - screams ‘dissolute party girl’ and doesn’t care who knows it. She loves to flirt, to provoke and to needle, whether through voice or appearance or action, and delights in discomfiture, in the breaking of standards and expectations. Argument and debate fan the flames of her ardour; she feels deeply and passionately, and loves the cut and thrust of verbal combat more than she should - words like ‘equipoise’ and ‘sang-froid’ are, as a consequence, almost never applied to her. Amelia does at least know what she likes, and makes no bones about expressing herself.

For all her appearance and abrasive behaviour, she is intelligent and driven, and can respect such traits in others, particularly if they can match her acid tongue.

[b]History:[/b] 

Amelia Sevres-Lavere grew up in the lap of luxury, splitting her time between France and the UK as the seasons changed and her parents flitted between their homes. Old money and high society, Amelia’s life was all laid out: boarding at Roedean, summer holidays in the Seychelles, improving weekend trips to Italy and France, skiing in Switzerland, Magdalen College, Oxford for university and then the serious business of being one of the Ladies who Lunch. In the fullness of time, there would have been an eminently suitable match and children to follow, carrying forward the family lineage to the next generation and for the whole cycle to start anew.

Alas, such was not to be. Not from lack of any material thing, nor from an absence of love and care, but there was, nonetheless, a wrongness to it all. A sucking emptiness without a name inside her that rendered even the finest things faintly hollow, painted mockeries of what should have been. Amelia tried many things to fill the nameless gap – knowledge from Roedean and its libraries, culture from Victoria and Rome and Paris, nature amid the wilderness of the Swiss Alps and beyond, all to no avail. Ever hungry, desiring something she could never articulate, she slipped further and further off the beaten path in search of it. 

Amelia abandoned herself to dissolution and the practice of ever-more-esoteric things in her hunt, criss-crossing the globe in a tireless, restless search. None of it sated her – nothing did, even for a moment, before she found the first Clue. It was a fragment, a glimpse of something which filled – for but a breath, but oh, what a [i]wonderful [/i]breath - that gaping potential space inside.

Following the Clues took her across the globe, and finally led her to the dusty and ill-used emporium, in a city whose name she forgot almost the moment her plane touched down.


[b]Other: [/b]

1.) Amelia is almost always seen with a lollipop in her mouth, having a truly colossal sweet tooth and a metabolism to match it.
2.) She smokes, occasionally and offensively, for its annoyance factor more than anything else.
3.) She is terrified of dolls, most particularly porcelain ones, and dislikes spiders.
4.) She likes tea – black and with lemon, for preference.

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