Shades of Amber
Being of average height and thin build, Scarlett seems remarkably unremarkable with the exception of her long auburn hair, never quite deciding between red or brown and her piercing, dark eyes that are ever watchful. It has even been rumored that she slept with them open as to “not miss a thing.” Her skin is tanned from what seems like long journeys through wasteland and desert. After spending a decent amount of time with Scarlett, one would notice that not a single scar marks her body though battles and wounds have surly become countless over the years.
Uncomfortable in more “feminine attire” (as some would like to call it), which she deems “unpractical,” Scarlett is often found in tank tops and pants or shorts with what seems like too many pockets and armed to the teeth. Guns, knives, anything she can get her hands on and wield. Occasionally, she sports bandannas in the typical locations (around the neck, head or tied around an arm) and she loves her aviators: “If you ever feel like losing a limb, try taking them.” Red has appeared to be top choice for color and pink is strictly forbidden.
My fellow “Havenite/Amberite Cousins,” as they like to call themselves, are a relentless and nosy bunch; always with these questions of my past, I grow quite tired of avoiding such irrelevant nonsense. I am here now, what more could they possibly want? Sure, I didn’t grow up in the leisurely and luxurious lifestyle that the majority of them grew up in and are accustomed to but I don’t follow them around like some sort of lost pup, begging to know all of their and Amber’s past! ‘Course, that would most likely bore me to fucking blubbery tears until I blow my own brains out all across the Great Hall. Fuck, their food is amazing here. Top notch. Better than anything I’ve had in ages. Literally. Except in Shadow Earth, and thank the Unicorn for that place. Can you say Coke addiction? Holla.
Oh, anywho, back to the “Biography and Shit.” I should totally title this that. Mum would roll over in her grave. Several times. And I can already see Morgana shaking her pretty lit’le head in confusion and disappointment, though I can never tell which is the stronger feeling in such instances. I haven’t thought of mum in a long time. If my shadow wasn’t such a wreck… Naw, I still wouldn’t look for her grave. Not yet. Too bad dear ol’ father was never around to see how beautiful she had become in those last years before she disappeared. Apparently, he was too busy getting around the universe, training every child under the Universal Sun how to wield a sword in the proper fashion. But we made due. I was in military care/training for many years, working all sorts of miscellaneous jobs here and there to make ends meet. Wars seemed to be constantly waged, a lot of jobs were manual labor which I’ve always seemed a bit more capable than others; it all makes sense now but at the time I was well over the freak side of the white-picket fence. Misfits are always the more interesting and fun bunch anyway (and good thing too, since they have always seemed to flock to me like I wear some sort of bright, glowing neon sign, right above my head. With arrows and all.)
But, to be honest, I didn’t even remember any of this until we all snuck into Amber herself, and walked the pattern. No, after Eric whisked me off through shadow and introduced me to Alfred, whom I do miss dearly, that old bastard, and after Caine came and wiped me of all memories, leaving me in the streets of yet another shadow (which, I might add, was much like my home shadow, you know, before the zombie apocalypse; so uncreative sometimes, that prick. He could have had the decency to dump me in, oh I don’t know, say some kind of paradise shadow? It’s probably his fault I’m all “sick and twisted” and whatnot. Maybe I should give him a piece of my mind… and thank him, if he ever comes back ’round.) I was basically a zombie much like the poor wretched creatures I would later spend years fighting off.
I could always remember my name though, and the pendant Alfred gave me was always a comfort. I knew that I was important, some how. And that I was a fucking badass. I spent quite some time in a little nameless village outside of one of the major cities, Nodol, as a ward of one of the larger farming families. It was pleasant, but I was always insanely bored no matter how much work and chores I accomplished throughout the day. My daily horseback and archery lessons grew longer (I combined them when no one was looking), and eventually I convinced some of the local mercs to “teach me to use a sword.” During the beginning of my “first lesson,” I knew that I was already better than them, by far, and it didn’t take them long to discover it, too.
To avoid a witch-burning like punishment, I fled to Nodol and here is where the real fun began. The contrast between the village and city life was astounding; it was almost as if I had entered a whole new world. Perhaps I had. I picked up a couple jobs while I saved up enough money to afford an apartment (I literally didn’t sleep for days), then I joined the local gym and martial arts dojo. Growing bored of just working out and fighting, I tried my hand at driving. It wasn’t long until I found myself in the dark and dangerous world of street racing and gambling. And man, let me tell you, that shit was crazy. Nothing quite like the thrill of being locked in 2 ton metal box, barreling down the road like some sort of maniac. Of course, the gun club was always a blast, as well…
This fun didn’t last long though, mind you. Soon, the skies seemed to permanently darken, people started acting crazy and some just disappearing completely. All the government officials ditched and/or holed up. And I think once people started eating each other, their pets, and children included and lit’le ol’ grannies started chasing me down at the grocery, it was then that I knew that society was now, well, chaos and just not very “society-like” anymore. But I wouldn’t let this shit get me down. I was rollin’ with the punches. Not all the weapon warehouses had been looted yet, I knew, so I gathered some of the local thugs, hot-wired some Jeeps and made for the bunkers. This was now home-base for the time being. This is where “family” truly began to mean something to me. These guys were my boys. We looked out for each other. Took what we needed and were pretty well off.
I never aged though. And I knew that. They knew it, too. So, as a team and a family, we decided to extend our family and became nomadic in the process. We recruited as we traveled. We rescued all that we could, training the young and incorporating the old, taking supplies anywhere and everywhere possible. It became clear that the whole world had suffered this zombification but there were other families out there, fighting the rad fight. Years past, and again, my infamous boredom was beginning to settle in…
And this is where our Havenites-Heroes make their ever-so-dramatic rescue entrance scene…