Appearance (Before Awakening) CC is rather tall for a woman. At 5'10", she was always glad she could meet her brother's eyes level instead of having to look up at him. She has fair skin spattered with freckles, and had a long mane of gleaming coppery-red hair that she was immensely proud of. Her face is sharp and angular, set with eyes that were a deep, expressive brown, and often wears a smug smirk, because that's frankly just the person she is. She had slender arms, ending in delicate hands with slim, dexterous fingers, all the better to hold a brush. All that said, she's not weak, she has tight, wiry muscles. But of course, she's not a body-builder or anything. Just...not soft.

Most of her clothing has some kind of paint stain somewhere on it, ranging from little specks along a hem to an enormous neon-blue splash across almost the entire front of a white tanktop that she kept because frankly she thinks it looks cool. She has a slender athletic build, and has a tendency to bounce her knees or tap her feet. She's fond of makeup, treating it as an extension of her art and herself as a living canvas.

She carries herself with a bouncy, energetic stride, like she's listening to a nonexistent playlist, and had a habit of snapping her fingers to the beat, whether 'the beat' even existed or not.

Appearance (After Awakening) CC has had one of the more obvious changes in her Awakening. To start, her copper hair brightened into a vivid flame-red, and her brown eyes ignited into an unnatural searing orange. When she's exerting herself, and her heat is rising, they blaze with their own firelight.

But, debatably more noticeably: both of her arms--on her left, from the elbow down, on her right, the entire arm up to the shoulder--have gained the appearance and texture of black stone, running with cracks and veins of bright red light. Like cooling lava. They glow in low light and have their own heat. Not hot enough to give you blisters upon touch, but more than hot enough to be uncomfortable. Like touching the hood of a black car in hundred-degree weather.

Even for her, actually.

It makes things like showering a constant trial, and sometimes she still puts a hand on her hip and is rewarded for her reflex with that sharp burning discomfort. She dresses more sparsely than she used to. Even long-sleeve shirts are often uncomfortably warm for her now; she lives firmly in the "tanktops or tee shirts and shorts when it's ten degrees outside" area. She's still a fan of makeup, but not being able to comfortably touch her face has certainly made it more difficult. She occasionally still tries to snap her fingers, but being made of stone puts a dent in that for sure. Unfortunately, without these hands she probably wouldn't even be able to hold Lævateinn.

She's also not as tall as her brother anymore, and she is not happy about it.

Vision: She was just putting the finishing touch on a painting she'd worked on for weeks, just the last few rays of light from the clouds left. Tongue sticking out in concentration, she brought the brush up one last time...

"Oh my, this is unusual. How did you get here?"

What? Huh? Where was she? What was going on? The feeling of sun on her face and grass beneath her bare feet, breezes tickling her back with her hair, the crisp clean smell of the air, the soft susurration of the lakeshore softly lapping...

And the impossibly gorgeous woman who was standing before her. She stared back, utterly bewildered. Part of her wanted to answer: 'I don't know!' But somehow speaking to her like that felt against all the laws of nature. So instead, she turned to the person that was somehow standing next to her.

"Cade, what the hell is going on?"

Rank: Functionally a 1st Rank, technically half of a 2nd Rank (more on that later).
Summoned Weapon(s)

• Lævateinn - Norse Myth

Origin Story: Lævateinn is a weapon shrouded by mystery and the long passage of time. Many interpretations have come and gone. Including the sword of the fire giant Surtr.

And it is clear that is where CC's Lævateinn finds its origin. A great blade wreathed in impossibly hot flame, raised at the gods to herald the end of all things.
Relative Strength: 7 - Well-known enough to have infiltrated pop culture and the collective consciousness, but it's no Mjolnir.
Manifestation: Lævateinn is an enormous greatsword longer than CC is tall with a hilt of size to match. The blade is as red as her new hair, and the great hilt and guard are the black of volcanic basalt. It glows brightly with a violent light and can be set aflame at a thought (sometimes. More on that later).
Attributes

• Might: 5 - It's a huge fuckoff fire sword. Each strike would already be a volcanic eruption, even if it didn't improve her physical strength by a large amount. But because it did she'll obliterate anything you point her at.
• Agility: 1 - But that's only if she can hit it. CC never meant to be a hero, so she's entirely untrained in combat; and she has a very large weapon, so quick maneuvering is something that she really has to get the hang of.
• Endurance: 2 - This requires a bit more explanation. 2 is the level for purely her physical endurance, as a distance runner (though of course running and swordplay require very different muscle groups). But most of the time--that is to say, unless she's fighting alongside Cade who can thermoregulate her--she sits squarely at a 1. The limit on her combat isn't usually physical exhaustion, but heat. With a body that was never adapted to wield Lævateinn until it suddenly dropped in on her, it builds up heat quickly, and she can't manage exertion AND its heat for too long before she starts suffering from heat symptoms, rapidly escalating from heavy sweating to heat stroke if she doesn't manage it properly.
• Presence: 4 - Overconfident and cocky though she may be, her outgoing nature and extroversion collide to give her a kind of magnetic personality, even if she can be obnoxious at times. Her 'heroic ideal' may be atrophied, as she never intended to be one; but even so, she has an undeniable force of personality. And she's headstrong and stubborn, so even without a strong heroic ideal, her willpower is undeniably strong.
• Instinct: 2 - Not to belabor a point, but she never intended to be a hero, and so her training in any kind of combat is nonexistent. She's saved from a 1 purely because she's fairly quick-witted and observant to begin with, so with any luck she'll get better here before too long, she's a quick learner.
• Resonance: 1 - Cecilia was never meant to wield Lævateinn, and it knows. Consequently, their connection is tenuous and unstable at times; like, for example, lighting on fire without her actually meaning it to. It reacts strongly to her emotions, and it will remain as such until she earns its metaphorical trust. The is also the source of her inability to properly modulate her temperature while in combat.

Guild Assessment Result: [placeholder]
Affiliation: Cecilia doesn't care much for the guilds at all. But Cade does, and she cares a great deal for Cade. So she's loyal to the Guilds strictly by proxy.

Personality: CC has a very particular personality that people usually either love or hate (or hate to love). She's overconfident and cocky, and a smirk is a constant fixture on her face. But she's also highly social, very extroverted and outgoing. She makes friends easily, even if sometimes she can have some trouble keeping them for any length of time. She has a blindingly bright smile, even if a lot of the time it's rooted in being way too confident and probably being punished for it in some way.

That being said, all the easy (and obnoxious) confidence of CC's outward personality can't fully get in the way of a major cardinal piece of her: she is kind. Fitting a bit into the jerk-with-a-heart-of-gold archetype, as much as she'll preen, or poke fun at other people in a way that some might find mean-spirited, if she finds someone in need, she'll still put herself out to help them. This isn't helped by something that her brother has cautioned her about endlessly: she is trusting to a fault. Suspicion isn't something that plays heavy on her mind when she's meeting anybody for the first time, partially born from that sheer confidence. It has definitely gotten her into trouble before, but it's still just as present.

The last major piece of her personality is her relationship with her creativity. For those who only know her as a bit of a massive pain in the ass, it can be a bit of a shock the first time they see her buckle down on one of her pieces: in a vast departure from her cockiness, she is serious about her art. If she wasn't, she probably wouldn't have gone to school for it. The constant haze of heat that surrounds her hands mean that it's difficult for her to get close to the canvas without ruining the oil paint that she most often uses, and of her Awakening, that's the part that bothers her the most. She spent four years studying how to paint, and now her whole life's been turned upside down without even being able to paint in the style she knows. It's always been an important outlet for her negative feelings, and having it suddenly locked off really isn't good for her mental health.

History:

The Sinclair family was never the best off.

Living in corporate hell as they did, their decision to have even one child was one they came to after extended deliberation. What they did not expect was for their one child to become two. Their money was already tight; after all, it wasn't like there was generous maternity or paternity leave. But against advice, they chose to keep both children. They'd make it work somehow.

And they did, for a while. Cecilia and Cade didn't have a childhood of plenty by any means, but they didn't go hungry or have to skip schooling to work as kids. It was during this time--when two paychecks kept life stable for the twins--that CC first saw her mom painting. It was a passion of their mother's, but with the two of them, she'd been forced to almost give it up. But she still found time, once every blue moon, to pull out her watercolors and spend a few precious minutes with her art.

Well, until she couldn't anymore.

After their dad walked out on them following his layoff and constant arguments with their mom, CC's comfortable life shattered. In the ensuing maelstrom of missed rent and financial ruin, CC grabbed one thing, half out of impulse and half out of a desire to go back: the watercolor palette. She was an emotional wreck during their series of moves in and out of shelters. But CC had always known what Cade was thinking, and she saw how much pressure he put on himself, even if he was just kid like her. And her mom was stretching herself so thin she barely had time to do anything at all outside of working and sleeping. So she decided right then and there that she wasn't going to be someone that they had to just...take care of. She was going to be someone who could take care of herself so they didn't need to. She wasn't gonna cry, ever.

It was a childish promise that she inevitably would never be able to keep. She wasn't like Cade. She was awful at hiding any of her emotions, wore what she was feeling on her sleeve more often than not. She definitely cried, and not infrequently. But that stubborn insistence gave her enough of a foothold on emotional stability that she could get through school. It let her spend her time at home with Cade waiting for their mom to come home. It let her poke fun at her brother now and then, because she could feel some of the fun burning out of him and the thought scared her more than she ever let him know. The two of them were almost always together; at school, at home, in the same bunk bed, on the weekend, they were like each others' shadows.

By the time the twins were in high school, life had gotten a little easier for them. Working their asses off meant that their mom could finally take a well-deserved rest after raising two teenagers on her own. Things had reached a kind of stability. She took her schooling as seriously as she could. But Cade always outstripped her in grades, because at night, after her part time job, when he studied, she would take that same palette of watercolors out and paint. Night after night, even when only a fragment of pigment was left in each cup. Then she took the plunge to take some of the money that she'd earned, go out one day, and buy some brushes and a set of cheap oil paints. Her grades...really didn't improve. At all. But her art did. She blossomed, really starting to develop her own style and come into her own as a painter. And her obsession with painting didn't go unnoticed. When the final year of high school came and she dared to apply to art school...

Well, she definitely cried when she told her family she'd gotten a full ride.

She also cried when she learned that Cade had gotten a grant to go to school too. She hadn't let him know, obviously, nor their mom; but the idea of leaving both of them to go live off on her own scared the hell out of her. She'd never not, of course; she knew that her mom had wanted to study art when she was younger, and was determined to be the artist that she never could. But it didn't make it any less scary. So Cade being there with her would make her feel so much better.

The second she got the chance, she buckled down and applied herself like she'd never applied herself before. Flew forward in ever class; her childhood had given a work ethic that some of the other students there could only dream of. Now that she was finally free to spread her wings, she lunged forward at every chance. She did feel bad, though; because she was focusing so hard on her studies, Cade didn't have time to. After all, someone needed to keep the place they lived functional. It was a constant guilt that dug little fishhooks into her skin. But, she rationalized, as soon as she graduated and started working as an artist proper, she could start really making some actual money and pay Cade back for all he'd done.

And then, of course, the dumbass had to start getting into vigilantism. The first time he'd come back to their dorm with his face busted up, she'd just about had a heart attack then and there. She wanted more than anything else for him to stop. What if he got hurt? Like, not a black eye hurt, but hurt hurt? But she knew her brother. And he knew that the bonehead wasn't going to stop if she asked. So all she could bring herself to ask was for him to be careful! The idea that he was in danger weighed on her mind constantly. But she still flew through school, graduating summa cum laude with high honors. She did her best to ignore the news every time vigilantism came up, especially after the advent of Awakening. Every time she thought about it, there was a painful squeeze in her chest. It started to leak into her mind when she was working on art, too, now. He was in danger, wasn't he? All the time. She wished she could do something. Wished she could help him somehow--

"Oh my, this is unusual. How did you get here?"

Motivation: She didn't want this. She certainly didn't ask for it. But it happened. And with her boneheaded brother constantly throwing himself at danger, what kind of sister would she be if she didn't use her new big fuckoff fire sword to help?

Side Roles: (Do you also want to play a supporting character — civilian, journalist, opportunist, etc.?)
Theme Song / Quote: (Just for flavor if you like.)