cmilia - Tumblr blog

[cmilia]

johnny-legend‌:

Giving her a little chuckle Johnny shook his head. “Not wrong, or at least not totally wrong. I felt like going out somewhere tonight, the invitation just kind of cemented it even if I’m not really sure still what it was about.”

“Seems everybody and their dog was invited to this thing tonight,” she ruminated, taking the new drink to her lips with a small, warm smile adorning them. “Well, I hope you stick around.”

[cmilia]

johnny-legend‌:

Johnny accepted her handshake, dipping his head slightly as she introduced herself. “A pleasure, Emilia. What brings you out here tonight?”

“I’m assuming whatever brought you out tonight along with the onslaught of patrons,” she ushered a delicate looking hand out to the crowd around them. “Am I wrong?”

[cmilia]

johnny-legend‌:

Happy there hadn’t been a major collision, Johnny gave a little laugh and nodded in response. “You’re right, I do owe you that at least.” Gesturing to the bartender to give the lady a refill, he leaned an elbow on the bar. “So it looks like half the town’s shown up tonight. I’m Johnny,” offering her a handshake.

“Seems that way,” she averred as she collected her drink, taking a lengthy sip. She’d almost finish the one he barrelled into so this was a good time as any to take advantage. “Emilia,” she mused, offering a hand. “Charmed.”

[cmilia]

seranbrenek‌:

It was something hard to explain; how he could hate someone but the second he saw her in pain there was a need to help. It wasn’t like this with everyone; not a chance in hell. Seran Berenk got pleasure out of watching people in pain. But there were people in his life such as Raphael and Naomi— he wouldn’t be able to bare it. But this certain someone was somebody he should have never cared about, it was written in them to hate one another. But as he stood there, watching her in pain he gulped thickly and before he could talk himself out of it. 

Seran Berenk was crouched before her, hands fluttering over the clammy skin of her face. Shaking his own head as he mumbled sweet words that were almost inaudabile. He should hate her, he keeps thinking. He did hate her. But did he really? His brows furrow as he moves himself, pressing his back against the wall and pulling her into his body. 

‘‘Hey— It’s me, It’s Seran.’‘ He sooths but knows that it was useless. She needed real help; and there was no way she’d want to go to an actual hospital. Having to explain what happened would only draw attention none of them wanted. 

He takes a beat and sucks in a breath.

‘‘We need to move you..’‘ Seran says and gets no response as he grumbles, using his strength to tug her into his arms. Shirt quickly drenching red as he curses. He really liked that shirt. But he doesn’t take anymore time to gripe as he starts pulling her to the kitchen area of the bar. There had to be something he could do; some utensils he could work with to sew her up. Stop some of the bleeding until he could further asses.

‘‘Jesus fucking christ.’‘

Seran fucking Bastard, more like. 

If Emilia had any strength, she’d be using the last of it to shove her fist through to the back of this man’s head. It had been in her code since the moment they met. He was a pompous asshole who treated women like objects. Worked for the man Roman despised. A man she had no issue keeping far from--- but yet--- he helped her. He was helping her. 

Emilia never wanted to be perceived as weak. If she hadn’t been stabbed multiple times and kicked in the throat so hard she couldn’t breathe, she’d be right there telling Seran to back up. To never touch her so long as she lived. It was then she realised how vulnerable she was. How, if she made even one wrong advance towards the man, he’d surely put her out of her misery. She was not going to die by the hands of Seran fucking Backstabber. 

Still, she had to hand it to Raphael and his team. They truly went above and beyond in Emilia’s view. They kicked Roman to the ground without even touching him and now they were free to take whatever they wanted with Roman out of the way. As much as she despised Seran and had been readily convinced he had no redeeming qualities, she supposed they had to be on the same side now. 

She fell into him willingly, using him as a crutch to attempt to hold herself up. That’s right. Give him the illusion you are nothing more than a wounded bird in need of a tender touch. 

Do not claw his eyes out. 

You will not survive the winter. 

She laid a delicate palm on the back of his shoulder, swaying slightly before falling into him once more, stars bursting behind her eyes.

“Call---” was all she managed to get out before her world tunnelled and her body went slack into his strong embrace. Shit.

[cmilia]

silent-cleaner‌:

Lorelei’s green eyes stared at the woman and then at the empty stool. She then shook her head and shrugged. “It’s alright, he says you’re too pretty and can sit there. Wouldn’t be nice for you to stand up wearing those heals,” she commented, pointing to the woman’s shoes. She wasn’t a fan of high heels and only wore them for special occasions and the first thing she did when she arrived home was to take them off and throw them somewhere she could never find them until it was the right time to wear them again. “A Bloddy Mary, very spicy. Very, very spicy,” she told the bartender when he asked her what she wanted to drink. “I thought you were one of that group over there,” she pointed to five men who had been staring at her since she got there. “They can’t seem to get it when a woman is not interested.”

“Well, be sure to thank him for the compliment for me,” she added, collecting her drink as she shifted her body to face the woman. “They haven’t started hurting yet, but I appreciate the sentiment.” Glancing at the aforementioned group the other had been talking about, she gave a discreet head turn, eyeing them. She cocked an eyebrow once more, turning back to the woman. “I could be your girlfriend.”

[cmilia]

lakewoodxkeegs‌:

keegan stiffened and set her jaw. “yeah well i wasn’t willing to give up my life just because he’s around. the world doesn’t actually revolve around him,” she said, her voice remarkably even. she turned her head to look at the other with a blank expression. “so far i suppose. if i can ignore the pain.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that--- next time he’ll carve his full name into your forehead.” She mused, a small chuckle to cover her mild discomfort. That wasn’t an exaggeration. She worried for the young woman. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you prior to his arrival,” she said after a beat. “I feel it is partly my responsibility for what happened to you.”

[cmilia]

“You can’t sit up in that tower forever,” she warned. “I’m here because I want to be. Don’t ever get that twisted. I’m not Joseph. I’m not his replacement!” She spat.

“I never said you were!” He shot back without missing a beat. “Joey deserved more than what I gave him. He’s dead because of me, can’t you see that?”

“He’s dead because I made sure of it!”

A long pause.

“What?”

“I told him--- you wanted him dead,” she said after a long moment. “It was right after the Gala. I brought him wine. We sat and talked most of the time, and I got him drunk. I told him that nothing would make you happier than to kill himself. Show his devotion because regardless of what happened, his fate would always end up--- here.” Another beat. “I ensured his death because I wanted you to myself.”

“You killed my best friend because of some idiotic claim you had over me?”

“Don’t you dare give me that! All you ever talked about was Joseph! Never once was it Emilia!” Her eyes were reminiscent of a blazing fire. “I wanted you all to myself but you never cared for me!”

“What are you talking about, I’ve always cared for you, Emilia! I took you in and gave you everything!”

“You never loved me the way you did with him! He was your number one! Even Phillip! My own brother and you put him before me!”

Then the knife came.

Emilia woke in a daze. Her jaw hurt. Her side ached. That was a lot of blood. And glass. Pushing herself up into a sitting position, it took a moment for the dust to settle in her mind. Where was she? Where was Roman? Where was anyone? She had already spotted red and blue just outside but no sirens could be heard. Even if there were, they were pin drops compared to the muffled screaming she could hear. Erratic and displaced. It was almost deafening. Was it screaming? Her head swam. Struggling to pull herself to her feet, she ambled back over to the VIP Room. Nothing. Maybe he really did get arrested.

Clinging onto the wall, she continued. The pain--- as imagined--- was intolerable. Why couldn’t he have stabbed her somewhere else for a change? Why was it always the stomach? The sound of heavy footsteps reached her and she withdrew her gun. Her vision tunnelled and the next thing she knew she had collided with another body, falling into them before her world went black.

[ @seranbrenek ]

[cmilia]

→ IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Emilia Adrienna Khan 

Characters Age: 38

Faceclaim Choice: Gal Gadot

Gender and Pronouns: Femaie, She/Her

Birthplace: London, England

Birthday: October 31st.

Occupation: COO of KG Industries

Family:  IN FAVOUR OF The Almeida Cartel

Position: The Bodyguard

→ BIOGRAPHY

Emilia Khan’s past had been impeccably concealed since her descent into the small town of Lakewood. Her employer made sure of that, but only so much could be buried before the secrets began piling high enough to push through the dirt. She grew up in London. Born and raised with a silver spoon in her mouth. Some would even go as far as to say a ‘golden spoon’, but Emilia never wanted that life. Once a pristine princess who sat high on her throne. It was a part of her she could never really shake— but oh, did she try.

By the time she was sixteen, she’d already been in more troubles with the law than her parents could cover up. She started with mindless vandalism that had escalated to worse ones that included arson, subsequently in turn burning her roommate’s hair in her sleep. Her rebellion was clear and the only source of stability in that topsy-turvy world she’d created for herself; was Roman.

The two attended school together up until they’d reached graduation, but Emilia couldn’t stand the thought of returning to her extravagant life where she’d only learn to work under her mother’s thumb, betrothed to someone from her father’s affiliated companies and ultimately spending the rest of her life as a trophy wife. Ballet was her only passion. It was concise and controlled. Something she enjoyed. So she left shortly after graduation, trekking back to London to gather her things and find solitude in that busy city.

Plans had changed soon after and she was on the family’s private jet to the city of angels, blood-stained hands clutching her mink fur coat. Throughout it all, Emilia remained optimistic. Los Angeles held promise, but even that had different plans. She turned to sex work, exotic dancing and drug trafficking. A complete one-eighty of what she intended to do once she arrived. The life she’d dreamed of fell further and further behind and for a time, she didn’t believe in hope. She regretted leaving her wonderful life behind— but she couldn’t return. How could she?

It seemed all hope had been lost, but one fateful morning when she was getting ready to end it all, a familiar face had popped up on the screen of her motel television. Roman. She’d completely forgot about the man that had helped her escape. She tracked him down to his building, contemplating whether she should set foot inside. There was no chance he’d remember her, but she took that chance and they reunited with tears and drinks that very evening.

From then on, Emilia no longer had to live that life she’d fallen unwillingly into. Roman bought her an apartment, clothing, a new car, and settled her debts. He introduced her to his younger sister who practically ran Runway and offered her a job as a model. Life had turned around for the better and Emilia felt like she owed her life to this man. Ever since then, Emilia was always at Roman’s side. Tabloids began spectating they were a secret couple, always seen out at company galas and walking through Beverly Hills, arm in arm.

Throughout the years, Emilia grew into her own person. A commodity in the fashion world. A pioneer in business. She even took over the company while Roman was in prison while balancing fashion week. She long forgot her dreams of being a ballerina and focused solely on her newfound love of power. Her impulses and temptations followed her as she followed willingly in Roman’s footsteps. Murder became second-nature and soon her hands were covered in just as much blood as the tyrant to her side. She embodied what she tried hiding from for all these years, but now nothing and nobody could stop her. Fears and doubts dissipated, but— of course— one remained. A solitary hope that her past will never catch back up with her.

→ PERSONALITY SUMMARY

+ Positive Traits: Cunning, Intuitive, Amiable - Negative Traits: Calculative, Headstrong, Multi-faceted

[cmilia]

silent-cleaner‌:

“What the hell am I doing here?” Lorelei asked herself with a glass of Bloody Mary in her hand. She was in the darkest corner of the Black Rabbit so no one would even be able to bump into her. She didn’t like skin to skin contact that much or for drunk people to get into her personal space for that matter. If she had to pay extra to be left alone, so be it, but the twins were going to owe her big time knowing that she didn’t like to come into places like this, but a favor for a favor was too nice to pass, and those girls always kept their word.

She had been lost in the world of her book when there was a knock on the door. She put the bookmarker and stood up to open and see the two girls there. Long story short, they needed someone “old” to go with them to the Black Rabbit and since their mother wasn’t at home because of some family visit to England and their dad on a business trip to Japan, she was the first one that came to mind. Lorelei wasn’t that excited and she had to put on her nicest voice when she talked to the twin’s mom to let her know she was going to take them.

“Very well, but I have a few rules for you two to follow. If you break them you’re fired, as simple as that.” The twins nodded but promised to behave. Their boss was goign to keep an eye on them and hope that no one dared to bother her time of solitue. She could be doing more interesting things on Friday night that to watch the people inside the Black Rabbit, besides, Jazz was not her style. There was nothing wrong with it, but it just wasn’t her style of music.

“Yes, the seat next to me is actually taken by my imaginary friend,” she told the person who aproached her. “No, I’m not kidding. Your sit there, you crush him.”

Emilia’s interest in going to an event like this was slim to none. She’d come on the orders of Roman (assuming it was business only) but had only dressed for the occasion. A flowing black skin-tight dress that really had no give adorned her slim physique as the sky-high heels clacked against the flooring on her way to the bar. She’d been left in the background, talking business and fashion with Roman’s eldest daughter for a beat before the younger ran off in search of--- something--- Emilia wasn’t really listening. Sliding in between two, she signalled for the bartender before a women’s voice pulled her to the source. She cocked an eyebrow, glancing down at the empty stool. “I’ll sit far, far away, then, shall I?”

[cmilia]

davismorrissey‌:

“Do you think there’s food here?” Davis asked the nearest person. Sure, a lame way to start a conversation, but he hadn’t eaten in about two days and slept in less time, as shown with the shadows under his eyes. But it was vital.

“I haven’t seen any,” she sighed, leaning against the bar as yet another shot of whiskey was poured her way. Handing over a large bill, she waved dismissively, neglecting the rest of her change. Glancing sidelong at the man, she scoffed. “You could always try taking a walk around the block. I’m sure they have food on one of these godforsaken corners.”

[cmilia]

johnny-legend‌:

A Friday night in Lakewood, and word around town was that the Black Rabbit was the place to be. Johnny found himself at the club in somewhat unfamiliar territory. He was used to the laid-back Bullseye and this was definitely not it. Standing by the bar he ordered a drink, carefully gazing around the room at what felt like over half of Lakewood all there tonight. The place was definitely buzzing. Feeling someone nudge his elbow accidentally, he turned towards them. “Sorry about that.”

“No apology necessary,” she hummed, whisking her drink from any further damage as the male turned. Her dress, miraculously, survived. “You did spill half of my drink, though.” She cocked a playful eyebrow. “I forgive easily once I have enough alcohol in my system. Be a dear?”

[cmilia]

lakewoodxkeegs‌:

keegan hadn’t known if she was going to show up to the opening of the black rabbit at all. but her own stubbornness and pride had had her refusing to let whatever was going on in her head stop her from having a good time. so she’d put on some cute party clothes and headed out. she quickly ordered a drink, leaning against the bar and looking out at who else was there. 

“Brave of you to show your face while Roman is only a mere ten feet away,” came the sultry, alluring voice of Emilia, gaze downcast to the other. It’d been some time before she’d seen her. She had to hand it to her. Showing up with a bright red target painted on that poor darling head of hers. Remarkable Roman hadn’t seen her yet. “Are you enjoying your night, Keegan?”

[cmilia]

Gal Gadot photographed for The Hollywood Reporter, March 2018

[cmilia]

charlottexalmeida‌:

“Same.” Charlotte muttered before filtering, wondering how that must sound holding the very family name the cartel business was under and still not one to group herself in with them. Would she get there eventually? Or maybe she and Emilia shared the same viewpoints and she could help her fall into place without necessarily being committed by heart.

“That’s not comforting at all,” She replied sarcastically, but she hadn’t been seeking comfort particularly. A smidge shaken from the murder of the Mayor, but mostly out of worry for those she cared for. “What do you think the motive was?” Her own assumptions were obvious–she was a journalist, not a detective–there to help keep the public updated without causing too much panic and worry. A little bit at a time, not revealing too much, keeping the public on their toes. “My guess is…power. Not necessarily for the Mayor position but to cause stress and anxiety, a nameless person now infamous. 15 seconds of fame and all that.”

Emilia nodded, understanding. She had a deeper understanding of everyone around her than most. She chose to be apathetic, but she had been the biggest empath of them all. An inconvenience at times. They could understand each other, though--- right? Did Charlotte know where Emilia was coming from? Was it too cryptic? Did she even want to tell her the reasoning behind her response? She smiled in return. Comfort had been far from her since the day they arrived. She still couldn’t sleep at night.

“Exactly that,” she attested. “There are too many that fit that description, though. Roman by far.” She sighed. “Would it bring anyone peace to have the killer caught I wonder.”

[cmilia]

princessrinaldi‌:

“–Oh! I wasn’t trying to–” Aurora stuttered and anxiously paused. “Well…Women eat together all the time. Everyone will assume that I’m just helping a friend because that’s what I’m doing.”

“I meant the blood, love,” she smiled. A coy retort, but Emilia was known for double-meanings. “Unless your house is built like Versailles, I don’t see myself going in unnoticed.”

[cmilia]

harleystone‌:

The rival’s eyes raked her with a clinical determination, as though removing layer by layer of whatever facade Harley had been trying to uphold—pale emerald, in a certain light, but at times bluer than the bluest Texan skies. No matter how much one ogled, and she’d ogled quite a lot, damn her useless ass, it was impossible to tell. Who knows, maybe Emilia could change them on demand. Sort of like she did her personality. 

But what the hell, Harley thought. She wasn’t Naomi. She didn’t have to do this shit.

Head tilted to the left in a mock-playful challenge, she forced out a chuckle and followed it with a brisk shrugging of her shoulders. One of certainty this time.

“Both, Ms. Krol,” she replied. That simple. “But my brother’s the President, you know.” The corner of her gaze followed the bodyguard’s every premeditated—Always assume the worst of your enemies, Harley-girl, Daddy used to say—movement: tightening the blood-soaked bandage, long, slim fingers lingering to smooth it out, as the other hand reached for the cigarette dangling from her mouth. Injured or not, you never knew. Just you go ahead, sweetcheeks. Be my guest. “He still has to act like he respects your greedy asses. I’m free to speak the truth.” A smirk surfaced on her lips as she gestured towards Emilia’s injured side with her chin. “I see someone beat me to it, though. Granted, didn’t succeed, but at least they made a point.” A sneer. “Or like… sixty percent of a point.”

“Emilia is fine,” she countered with a soft smile. “Is he?” She couldn’t help the tongue-in-cheek reply. A joke that was harmless enough, she was certain. Emilia was anything but harmless, but a sense of humour had always stayed within reach. She could joke about decapitating someone with her heel. She studied Harley with an inquisitive gaze, reading further. Her defenses were up. For what reason, though, that was the question. Emilia was incapacitated. Well, that’s what she wanted her to believe, didn’t she? She couldn’t be helpless. That was so out of character. “So glad to find someone genuine nowadays. I was almost convinced this town was all talk.” She had, though. Everyone had a distinct pride about them like it was a crime-town, but it was their self-control that had almost tricked her into believing anything but the truth. She glanced at her wound without moving her head just as Harley did before she flicked it back up to level. “And what point is that, darling?” A manicured eyebrow arched. “That I’m not made of stone?”

[cmilia]

raphael-stone‌:

Well that was a change of tune, as Raphael sat back. He wouldn’t cut Emilia off. And protecting her wasn’t on the table. It was taking all the power players from Roman’s side that Raphael wanted. He wanted to see Roman crash and burn as he pleased. It wouldn’t have been the first time watching an empire fall, and it wouldn’t be the last. Be it his own or another. All it took was the strategy and ability to remain one step above your enemy—and prepare the parachute when they push you off the ledge. That was how they all operated. “I don’t need allies.” That much was clear—he had the Rinaldi’s. “I need to weaken the Reyes and whatever they’ve got going, taking out anyone in your Cartel is just a part of the plan.” To how much he planned to see that through, of course, Raphael omitted.

“Why tell me his weak point? If it’s his company, what happens when it erupts from the inside out?” Hues narrowed to Emilia. Did he believe her? An inkling told him to. That affirmance of truth was rare, and such a promise of enlightenment while ridding the world of scum such as Roman—in Raphael’s eyes—was glory. That was a win to him. One less pawn on the chessboard. “Then what do you want?” He countered, hues fell to the wound. He’d help her—but it wasn’t in him to do so. Something had to be favourable to him, something worthy of sparking a fight or a glamoured chance with power. More than he held now. “He wants all this shit, to belong, to be like us to have that collective network—whatever. What the hell do you want? Whatever he wants?” Did she have her own agenda? Raphael was curious.

“Semantics,” she shrugged lightly, eyeing her pack for another vice. She’d have to quit. She’d gotten his plan out of him. A simple dice-throw that’d ended in her favour, but was it something she couldn’t work out beforehand? No. Everyone was an open book and it was obvious the lengths people would go to obtain limitless power, but it felt nice getting confirmation on her theories. She kept her mouth shut as he did. There was more that she’d have to learn in order to take back to Roman.

“His weak point is a two-hundred-billion dollar company that has tight ties with the American, Chinese and Korean militaries. The possibility of it going tits up is bar none unless he decides he wants it to,” she smiled. “I don’t imagine anyone in this town has that sort of power.” A polite smile that said ‘I Know Something You Don’t’ radiated quietly. “I’m just telling you what I’ve learned over the past few years of being at his side. You want the Cartel, he’ll hand it to you if you ask nicely. He doesn’t have pride for something that can be taken. Well--- what he thinks is expendable. When it comes to things that are not, he’s essentially the antichrist.” A cock of her eyebrow as his question arose. “I want what everyone wants--- him dead.” A slow smile. There it was--- out in the open. “Was that not obvious?” Of course it wasn’t She made sure it was under lock and key, but perhaps Raphael was the spare she needed after all. “That multi-billion dollar company belongs to me as well and it’s a Kingdom that deserves one Queen, don’t you agree?”