rosaline collet {two} fin

Gender: Female
Age: Eighteen
District/Area: District 2

Appearance: Waves of silken black hair, tumbling like a dark-hearted waterfall over smooth, pale white shoulders. Gentle hands holding the sides of your waist, a small yet dominating body pressed close to yours. Cherry-red lips and a whispered confession of love against your ear, so sweet it sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to pause to close your eyes and let out a shaky breath. A tempting smile, a soft tongue, snowy white teeth that wouldn't dare hurt you. Charming blue eyes and a voice that sounds like sunshine melting frost-covered grass. This is what you see when you look at me. This is what you hear. This is what you feel. A tender heart playing right into waiting hands.
What you will miss are the sharp blue eyes of a serpent. The practiced movement and the commanding aura of my presence. The observant gaze, the quick hands, the tongue that could tell you nothing but lies and convince you it's the complete truth. The scars, crisscrossing in red up the white side of my torso. Soft skin torn by what I'd tell you was a nasty fall. You will miss the rehearsed words, the familiarity of my motion. You won't see the worn palms of my hands, only the smooth, warm tops to caress and adore and love. All you will see is my tender shape, the gentle curves of my body, the way it fits so perfectly with yours. The only thing you will remember is the way my dark figure moved against the flames behind me, the enticing look in my eyes, the rhythmic motion of my limbs, the twisting and turning and swaying, the perfection of silk against smooth skin.
You will miss the danger. You will miss the inner corners of my mind, you will step over them and ignore them. You will not see the slight motions of my hand, the deception and the lies in my tone. To you, I would say nothing but the truth. To you, I am the most gorgeous creature you have ever come across, because you can't seem to see any farther than what's right in front of you. What you won't realize is that you're walking into the carefully-spun web of a black widow.

Personality: Miss Allison calls me her crown jewel. The pinnacle of her career, a fine piece of art, carefully molded by steady hands. So much attention, time, and effort put into every last delicate piece of me. From the person as a whole to the tiniest fibers of my being, Miss Allison has shaped them with the sharpest critique you will ever come across. Everything I am is because of her. My very actions seemed to have been planned out as she was creating me. She tells me that when I first came to her, I was weak, pathetic. But she took me and shoved me in the fire, and I have come out a sharpened piece of hard iron. A heart of steel melted down and then hammered to perfection. Cooled to the point where not even the harshest of words can get past it. But is that what you would see in me? No, of course not.
My tongue is made of pure silver, a weapon that will lie and deceive and cheat until you trip over my facade and suddenly it's too late. Miss Allison taught me to spin webs of lies and make them appear like the honest-to-God-truth. A web so convincing even the most shrewd of flies would fall right into it. And then she taught me to spin them up in my silk and whisper promises to them while I suck away whatever I want. I can spin a web anywhere, from the way my words wrap around you in the streets of the market, to the enchanting movement of my body on the stage, to the laughter in my throat as I take a peak at the cards the dealer gave me. You won't see the clever, manipulative mind, spinning yet another plot behind gentle blue eyes.
I've never been ashamed of myself. Why would I be? I'm out to take care of myself, and I will never, ever care about you. You are worthless to me. While you think I'm the pawn, you will discover that it's you who I don't need, while I am the queen who twists and manipulates your moves with a flick of my wrist. But of course, I am not the one who wins the game. I am the one who does the work, the one who protects her king no matter what. Miss Allison is my king. She made me everything that I am, and she is the only person I will ever owe anything to. She taught me to lie, showed me how to dance, slipped a knife into my palm, introduced the ways of a master conman. She made me her prodigy. Princess, she calls me. She gave me a place to stay, put food on my plate. I owe everything to her. So I gave everything to her. My words, my abilities, my life. All of it. I am not my own because if I were, I would be one of the worthless ones. And then where would I be?

History: Where I come from is not important to Miss Allison. And I suppose it's not important to me either, but somehow I find myself thinking about it every now and then. I don't remember much of who I was before I was Miss Collet, professional dancer and gambler of The Black Arrow. That's my home now. A small pub, tucked away snug in an alley, windows filled with the warm light of fire and the shadows of the dancers. Laughter and shouting as girls spin their spidery silk around the men who come to play poker. The giggles and chatter in the morning as we count our gold coins and shove the boys out onto the street, stumbling home. They never remember anything, and they always come back. Mr Jackson, our lovely bartender, is a professional when it comes to alcohol and spirits. He keeps their glasses full till morning and reassures us that no one will remember the cheating and the lying. All they will ever remember is the fun and the girls and oh the kisses.
I came here when I was thirteen. Before that, I was on the streets. And before that? I don't know. I think I had a brother, because I came with a picture of some guy in my pocket, maybe twelve or so. Whoever he was, I don't remember the sound of his voice, the way he moved, or what he was like. And those are the things that matter. But I keep his picture anyway, because I'm a sentimental thing and I don't really want to let it go. It's part of the reason I don't get attached anymore.
From the moment I walked into the pub, Miss Allison began teaching me, training me. She had a reputation for taking girls in off the streets and turning them into the most beautiful women the district had ever seen. But of course, I was always her prize. Her piece of perfection. Her object she valued above all the others. She was never a mother to me, but I guess she's the closest I will ever come to having one. She's more of a mentor than anything else. I know she favors me, because when I stole money from one of the other girls and she pulled out her own little knife, Miss Allison kicked her out of the pub with nothing but an old bed sheet to wear and a wound to match my own. Fair is fair, she said. You didn't catch her in the act, she deserves it. You only heard because of your friends. And now I have a scar up my side, and somewhere in the alleys of District 2, there's a girl with identical lines of red on her skin.
I like things the way they are now. I have a warm bed, plenty of food, abilities that most are not so lucky to have. Miss Allison would call me powerful sometimes. Hidden power, anyway. Hidden away from prying eyes who would compromise me. I keep my walls up, build this beautiful facade of a girl they all love. The one you will make eye contact with and that's it, you're a goner. Careful. One day you might walk into my web.