Amelia Cross

A bottomless well of patience, curiosity, and inquisitiveness, topped with an irredeemably pure outlook, she could be most readily defined as the very embodiment of amicable. It would, however, be at the risk of the observer to mistake her blind optimism for ignorant naivety. She simply chooses to limit her breadth of attention to the proliferation of positivity. Her calling is to save lives, and any distractions that might draw her away from her purpose are not to be tolerated. She is always thrilled to meet new faces, trusting of everyone she meets, and enthusiastic to assist those who request it. Of course, a modicum of wariness and suspicion is healthy when encountering strangers, and she remains completely devoid of both. She always believes there is good in everyone, even if she has to look extra closely to find it.

Pacifism is held in the highest regard, and its message spread in an effort to stem the tides of bloodshed and violence so that humanity can focus on mending the injured and feeding the hungry. The sight of conflict revolts her, and she will not hesitate to try to break up a fight through diplomacy. Failing such, she will reluctantly take up a position nearby, patiently waiting to administer aid after the altercation ends. Personally, she has never indulged in anything wilder than a verbal disagreement with someone, and she will happily defend her position until the opposing party relents, surrenders, or walks away. Problems that cannot be academically resolved are very difficult for her to cope with.

Self reliance can be a noble trait, worthy of pursuit, however she has caught up to it, tied it down, and slung it over her shoulder. A product of an isolated upbringing has taught her that whatever she does must be done herself. Her problems to solve, her issues to deal with, her responsibilities to heal others. She can handle things, and does not need assistance in doing so. Because in her mind, that would show weakness, and if people detected weakness hanging upon her, then her ideals and morals would become weaker by association.

Well versed and practiced in medicinal crafts, she prioritizes tending to the injured in any situation. Regardless of circumstance or threat to her own life, she is likely to have a knee-jerk reaction and will, without a moment's hesitation, rush to someone's aid. If her offer to help is rejected, she will try to assert her position more formidably, willing to explain why the individual requires assistance and describe, graphically, what will happen if they do not allow her to do so. If she is instead rejected more firmly, she will hesitantly withdraw from the potential conflict and attempt to ascertain a more subtle approach.

She can be persistent to the point of annoyance, though she is completely oblivious to both approaching and having reached that point. If she has a point to make, she's going to make it, and unless the person she's talking to begins to act aggressively, they are going to hear it.

A powerful gust swept carelessly through a shattered canyon, weaving and twisting its way past a myriad of obstacles birthed from both natural and human origins. The majestic yet invisible force orchestrated its own wondrous music as it flowed endlessly across the landscape, humming a gentle melody to serenade anyone who afforded it the time to listen. It whistled past the rocks, ruffled through the trees, dropped in tone across the basin, only to rise again in a glorious crescendo that would make the very Maker envious. The animals residing amongst the overture carried the chorus, and together they created a tune well beyond anything the inhabitants could hope to produce. It complimented the sunny skies well, sweeping away the cascade of heat to leave a utopian warmth in its wake. Today was a day only gifted to humanity, so infrequent in number that they were nearly forgotten between occurrences.

But even such immense beauty must eventually take pause, though typically for nothing more than to recuperate from its own tireless ambiance. However, this particular moment was not by choice, rather it was forced to yield to an even greater vessel of elegance. This interruption occurred as it suddenly collided with a solitary figure standing at the precipice of a cliff, observing the breadth of the horizon as if expecting something to appear there at any moment. Her poise was firm, resolute, and unwavering against the gentle gust that so offhandedly blew through disobedient hair, jealousy lifting a stunning array of long midnight streaks skyward.

No longer shrouded by the errant strands, her face blossomed forth into the brilliant sunlight. Purposeful intent had stripped her head of all ornaments, exempted only by a solitary ribbon that rested softly across the length of her forehead, falling down and away to vanish just above small ears. While its sole purpose was to stem the wealth of hair from escaping its confines in more ideal conditions, the fabric held something else captive. An incandescent hue of scarlet burned within, engaged in a silent waltz with every fleeting ray of light it could ensnare, carelessly stealing the magnificence of the flame drenched sun itself. Below, a turquoise tinted gaze ignited twin shallow sockets, burning in unison with the cloth above as they surveyed the horizon. Lips, far too selfish to permit themselves to be forgotten, held an equally red luminosity against the otherwise dark complexion that surrounded them. In that moment, a perfect plan captured the instant of equally brilliant luminosity, strengthening the illusion that sunlight itself was bent to her will, and lesser Men would swear that wings sprouted gloriously from her back to bask in the radiance unrestrained.

Fabric would not dare to reclaim skin before the short unblemished stretch of her neck transitioned smoothly into her shoulders. There, a thin lavender collar encircled her throat, though it was so loosely fitted it made play as a short necklace instead, the strap intended to hold it fast shifted slightly to the side. Its weight was held perfectly centered over the shallow pit between each lithe collar bone by an engraved metal ring, designed to be small enough to never interfere, but heavy enough to never sway from its duty to conceal the scar tissue that betrayed the otherwise immaculate appearance.

Wide bands of silk engulfed the expanse of each rounded shoulder, the twin fabrics gliding gingerly along the edges of her neck before plummeting inward at converging angles across her chest. One proudly glowed a strong cobalt blue, the other striking back in defiant opposition with a vibrant shade of amber. They clashed at the apex of her bosom in an explosion of color, bands splitting apart only to coil back together as they traced the sudden rise in form, all sense of cohesion falling into an intricate lattice weave before diving deeply into the valley nestled between the two soft mounds of flesh that flanked it. The silent duel for supremacy ended once they escaped the confined space, each color reluctantly parting ways to slyly trace the gentle arc of each rounded slope back around to drop into full retreat towards her curved sides, following the lowermost rib as they vanished from view. Their endless struggle resumed across the length of her backside, tracking along her spine before looping around once more. Such a design scarcely concealed her, so in accompaniment, a form fitting undergarment seamlessly extended the fabric between the shoulders and where it disappeared below to fully conceal the upper sides of her body, leaving only an hourglass of exposed flesh visible along the entirety of her torso.

Bare arms pulled away from what clothed the rest of her body, their texture from shoulder to distant fingertip remaining as smooth as the silk they left behind. They were devoid of any decoration or markings save her wrists, which were only briefly concealed by soft padded bracers. Each boasted the same lattice weave that concealed her bosom, but achieved greater structure at a singular point just below the palms so that they could fasten themselves securely and not be permitted to interfere with any activity requiring her hands. Having little else to do with them presently, one arm fell lazily to her side, the other bending across her exposed stomach to grip the edge of its counterpart.

The snug grasp of the upper edges of a skirt lay claim to subtle hips, the beginnings of which were enveloped by a sturdy leather strap that was buckled down tightly, though far enough below the wavy trim to never directly contact her skin. It was slightly out of place amongst the rest of her composition, but its purpose glowed with the smooth silver shine of a thin but lengthy blade. It was in no way humbled by her beauty, nor was any attempt made to conceal it from view. It rested proudly, boldly, triumphantly at her side as if it had fought to be there for its entire existence. Clasped faithfully to her back resided its companion, their colors unified against the splash of vibrant shades around them, cutting through to accentuate their importance and purpose. Beside it, a satchel hovered ominously, and the director of its contents was slung lazily around the adjacent shoulder.

The skirt complemented the shiny luster as best as frail textiles could accompany stringed grace. Extending to just shy of her knees, the patterns were long and purposeful, diverting little from their intended path, each streak in alternating shades of beige and turquoise. Though repetitious, both colors managed to distinguish themselves in a wholly unique way from the next. When the wind carried the light folds, it effortlessly captivated any onlooking scrutiny, despite surrendering its symmetrical perfection along one side.

Smooth legs permitted ample muscle to be clearly defined as they extended beyond the skirt. The tendons etched an array of endless sinuosity, a pattern fit for dexterous movement, rather than brute force. Each subtle turn outlined a greater beauty than the one that preceded it, a jealous chase giving way down the length of visibility until it abruptly ended into a pair of flat cloth bound shoes. Tied neatly around the ankles with interlaced strands of violet, they were little more than miniature bags, but they covered her feet and protected them from the elements, and such was all that could be asked of the shoes of travelers.