#Infinite being|In Character Annabella

[infinitexmuses-archive]

@featherchan asked: ❛  are you sure you’re gonna be okay on your own?  ❜ / Annabella (Swam Kwami) so cute! / Kanako (MLB Verse) 𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑺𝑻𝒀 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.

"Oh, yes, I am sure." The small white being smiled in reassurance. She hadn't quite expected to come across someone who could see her, and it did leave her in quite a mental panic, but she knew there wasn't much she could do other than make sure her owner didn't get found out about. The last thing she needed was for her identity to be discovered, lest she end up in a situation where they could risk a forced separation.

"I know the city rather well, so it will be no trouble at all to get back to where I need to be." She had always been overly careful when on her own. She was sure it'd be the same way this time, as well.

[infernorp]

name: rhys falcón

age: twenty nine

gender and pronouns: cis male, he/his

loyalty: chaney

occupation: police officer ( chef de service principal de 2e classe )

criminal occupation: associate to the chaney crime organization

faceclaim: keahu kahuanui

You used to have it all planned out. Life, career. Maybe even fame and fortune. You were the master of your own fate and, as you stared your own reflection in the face every morning, earlier than even the songbirds were awake, you told yourself you would have it all one day. But someday was never today, and though it was enough for the time being, you always ached for more. Parents gone, both of them, and you could only remember how it was they left you on the nights when you lay awake in bed staring at the ceiling and calling it sleep. It was just you and your sister for the better part of the last decade, and it was enough. The picture on your nightstand was one of you and Keira, and she was there the day you graduated from the academy, and for all the promotions and awards that followed. The only way for you to go, it seemed, was up. A shooting star, something bright and glowing as that million watt smile of yours. But the nights told a different story. Three nights a week at least found you in a bar out of the city, someplace no one would know your name, drinking away all the what ifs, the greed and the jealousy, the aching ambition, the yearning for something more than the overflowing goblet already spilling across your lips. It was on one of these nights you lost the last thing you could say with total honesty was of any value to you. Murdered. A word which normally held little meaning to you, but made the world feel like it was caving in when used in the context of your precious baby sister. Keira, brutally killed by some monster whose bottomed-out empathy made your shallow pool of substance look like an infinite well. All signs pointed to the man she had been seeing at the time, some scum she met at the bar you were known to frequent. The idea of it haunted you; what if she met him on a night she went looking for you?

Vengeance was a foreign word to you until that day. Very few things stirred what little emotion you possessed enough to make you want to seek retribution, but this crime, this sin, was unforgivable. It wasn’t enough to leave to the justice system. So you tampered with the evidence, made sure your sister’s killer would walk free, just so you could kill him yourself at the first opportunity. You tried to take every possible precaution, cover your tracks, no fingerprints and no DNA, but somewhere you got sloppy, and someone found out. Of course, you had motive, but that part was easy. You had been hot on the trail of a slow acting serial killer for some time, so you waited until you could be sure you knew who the killer was, and then you framed her for the murder of one Florent Vannier, adding a singular body to her already high count when she was brought in. And still, someone found you out. For now, they’re staying hidden, warning you of their presence and knowledge, and telling you to tread lightly until given further instruction. It’s been hard to focus on your other work with this unseen presence looming over you, and you find most of your free time devoted to figuring out just who this blackmailer could be. But every lead you’ve gotten has come up empty, so you’re slowly beginning to resign yourself to police work by day and whatever errands Annabella Chaney needs run by night. You hate belonging to people; first the Chaneys, and now this phantom being. But your time will still come. The only difference is that now the future you hold in your hands is one of selfish bloodshed.

associates: annabella chaney, dulce vilaro, gabriel prideaux, gille andre, indira pui, mathieu reyer, narissa king, raoul chaney, richard firmin, and tempest noble

coworkers: edmond ledoux, jacqueline mifroid, and veronica perez

suspicious of: antonin petrovic, enzo durand, gregory renard, lucien rousseau, lisette sorelli, philippe chaney, and zhu lau

HELENE THEODOSOPOULOS

There was a time you looked up to Helene, admired them even. They had the life for herself that you dreamed of. But you let all that go halfway down the drain, with whatever shreds of ambition and respect you still have hanging on for dear life, and Helene knows it. You were their favorite, too, for several years. Now you can hardly pass their office without them looking up from their paperwork with a disapproving look and a frown, disappointment coloring their features whenever they so much as hear your name. It makes you sick, but you refuse to accept that this is all your fault. If only Helene knew what you’re going through, what led you to this point, maybe they’d look more kindly on you. Or maybe they’d toss you out on the street, once and for all.

ODESSA FAUST

Half of you wonders if this little girl is somehow involved in this awful blackmail ordeal. Normally the answer would be no, without a second thought, but there’s something about Odessa that catches your eye, and you know you’ve caught hers as well. A person hiding something can recognize another with a terrible secret from a mile away, and you wonder if that’s what’s been drawing the two of you together. While it might be beneficial to turn the charm all the way up and find out just what it is she’s hiding, for your own good, maybe even for leverage, you can’t help but feel compelled to simply keep her at arms length. And it’s killing her. You can see it whenever you politely decline conversation, tell her you can accompany yourself down the sidewalk. It’s unusual, you think, for a girl in her position to throw herself at someone like this, and it makes you all the more wary and all the more curious.

SAMIR ROBERT

Your partner, for all intents and purposes, though it’s no secret the two of you don’t always mesh well. And that’s what you say when you’re trying to be polite. In truth, you can’t stand Samir, and you almost wish there was a way you could do away with them without getting caught. But since you’ve already tried that once and it didn’t work out in your favor, you suppose you’re doomed to put up with their incessant manual thumping, throwing the textbook and qualifying exam scores at you every opportunity they get. If a person has to brag about their intellect, it’s worth considering that they’re just a bullshitter with an over-inflated ego. Sami, you think, almost decidedly falls into this category. With almost no field experience under their belt, the notion that they think they can tell you what to do is absolutely appalling — but then, after the big department scandal when you were found to be having an affair with your former partner, who finds herself incredibly married to a Senator, you suppose you’re stuck with the bottom of the barrel.

THIS CHARACTER HAS A FLEXIBLE FACECLAIM AND IS OPEN