|Name: Ruby Vaughan|
|Shortdesc: Petite brunette, dressed in jeans and t-shirts|
|Temperament: Scrappy, stubborn|
|Themesong: Lily Allen - LDN|
|Mila Kunis as Ruby Vaughan
WARNING: This information should be considered OOC Knowledge unless one has the IC means to access it.
In her early twenties, this woman has long, layered, straight, dark brown hair. Her well-shaped eyebrows arch high over a pair of hazel eyes, their size heightened by the makeup she wears. Her high cheek bones are accentuated by a brush of highlighter, but her mouth seems bare of lipstick. Her figure is slim, petite, and she wears a black jacket over a t-shirt with a slogan, and jeans.
I just missed the Golden Time, which my father, his cronies and my brother talk about. But there wasn't anything gentle about the streets I grew up in or the family. The old man was part of the Firm, tough and strict, big on manners and respect. Named me Ruby, which means "Look, a son!" I think it was a joke from my father, being one of the girl amongst all those boys. I don't remember the night my brothers tell me about, the night he got infected, became a leopard shifter, but it is part of the family lore. The Firm kept an eye out for us, I'm told, but I don't remember.
I grew up tough, streetwise. I'm not some curvy creature, skinny enough to slide through a handy window and open it. Really useful for the Firm, and by the time I was fifteen, it was a regular gig for me. It was a world of violence, your position earnt by your ability to survive, or to beat the hell out of the person above you. You obeyed though, you damn well listened and did as you were told by the people above you, or you only disobeyed once. Unless you have a taste for traction and pain.
Eighteen and it was practically a tradition to get a clawing, if you were tough enough. And I really was tough enough. Holding my own with my brothers, giving as good as I got but being a good little soldier, sticking to the rules and the laws, toeing their line. Bribes go a long way to covering an infection and not a word was said, as the old man put his money where people's mouths were. But by the time I was in the firm, the Golden Age was past, and the new gangs were pressing at the gates, bringing with them their violence without protocol and rules, and the police at the other side, trying to get that big catch, that big break. You kept your mouth shut and you did your job, keeping your nose clean. For a given value of clean.
Our rule were clear. You knew your place, you worked hard for the Firm, and you looked out for your people. They belonged to you and you protected them, gave the odd one a hand up if they had the brains for it. But those new gangs, they don't know how to live, bringing their threats and their violence - alright, we were violent but never without reason and without due cause, you know? They didn't give a toss about the people we looked out for, and more than once they used them to hurt us, get to us. And it worked. They picked away at our territory, taking it a bit at a time, and the old men started to vanish, either into prison or off mysteriously with a bunch of cash in the night. But the rest of us, we didn't go down easily, kept defending what is ours.
That final night was tough as hell, when they came for us. Just the four of us now, defending our few streets, but the rules say you don't attack on nights like that. Not on New Years Eve, mate, it's not alright. We weren't really expecting that. They set the fire, and the three of us got out, but our Nimir-Ra, Juliette, she never did. She made sure we got out but she never did. My brother sorted out the transport, the visas, said we had some resources and we moved. New York, the big apple, here I come. Except things there were just the same, and we moved west. Frank picked Chicago and who am I to argue? Not that I would. New York was shit. So we're going there and we'll set up in the old fashioned way. Respect matters and you earn it.