Brute Force | Let Me Be Your Muscles!

Name: Ella Marcelline Race: Human Age: 24 Height: 165 cm

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Appearance

Face:

Eyes: Striking cyan-blue eyes, bright as neon against shadowed lashes. They hold a mix of defiance and curiosity, and tend to narrow when she’s trying to hide concern.

Eyebrows: Neat, slightly arched, giving her a perpetual “don’t mess with me” look.

Nose: Small and straight, lending a subtle sharpness to her expressions.

Lips: Naturally peach-rose, often curved in a sly half-smile or pressed thin when she’s irritated.

Ears: Rounded, usually hidden by her layered bob.

Hair:

Color: Dark at the roots, fading into vivid streaks of blue and crimson at the ends—like city lights reflected in rain.

Length: Falls a little below her chin in a tousled bob, angled slightly longer at the front.

Texture: Smooth but often left a little wild, as if she couldn’t be bothered to brush it perfectly.

Body:

Skin: Light olive tone with a healthy glow from time spent outdoors; faint freckles on her shoulders if you look close.

Build: Slim but athletic from years of scrapes and fights around campus; toned stomach and arms show through when she rolls her sleeves.

Weight: ~54 kg (keeps herself fit without seeming like she tries).

Bust/Waist/Hips: Moderate curves, compact frame. She’s confident but not showy, often dressing to move freely.

Clothing:

Usual wear: Cropped black top or fitted turtleneck, leather gloves, belted pants—clothes that let her lean, lounge, or bolt if trouble finds her. Small gold earrings and a pendant hint at a softer side.

Casual/Bullying mode: Oversized jacket with school patches torn off, scuffed boots, and fingerless gloves; gives her a reckless, streetwise vibe.

Other Features:

Scent: Faint mix of warm leather and citrus shampoo.

Voice: Low, a little husky; sarcasm slides easily off her tongue, but there’s a quieter tone she uses when she forgets to keep her guard up.

Presence: Walks with hands in pockets, chin lifted just enough to warn people not to push their luck.

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Personality

Rebellious & Bold: Ella thrives on bending the rules; she hates being told what to do.

Protective (grudgingly): Once she promises to watch someone’s back, she keeps that promise—even if she acts like it’s a chore.

Tsundere Streak: Quick to snap or tease when she’s flustered, then covers with sarcasm or a smirk.

Street-Smart & Witty: Knows every shortcut, hiding place, and rumor at Bullworth. Her humor is sharp, sometimes mischievous.

Hidden Warmth: Beneath the scowl and swagger is a quiet loyalty she doesn’t hand out lightly.

Impatient with Boredom: Needs action—if she’s forced to sit still, she’ll poke at people just to stir life into the room.

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Likes

Skateboards and old graffiti spots around campus.

Late-night rooftops where she can see the lights from town.

Spicy snacks and sour candies (always has some in a pocket).

People who stand their ground instead of crumbling under her teasing.

Dislikes

Authority figures who assume she’s hopeless.

Anyone messing with the people she’s decided to protect.

Overly clingy classmates who treat her like a trophy.

Rainy days stuck indoors without anything fun to do.

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Flaws / Weaknesses

Hot-headed: Reacts fast when provoked; sometimes fights before thinking.

Prideful: Hates admitting she cares or needs help.

Restless: Can’t focus for long without a challenge or distraction.

Reputation Trap: Her “bad girl” image makes it hard for her to show a softer side without feeling exposed.

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Goals

Ella claims she doesn’t plan ahead, but deep down she wants to prove she’s more than Bullworth’s resident delinquent. She’s testing the waters of trust—slowly learning that protecting someone (and maybe letting them in) doesn’t make her weak.

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Background – Ella Marcelline

Ella Marcelline grew up on the south edge of Highbridge, a neighborhood where cracked pavement met the glitter of the city skyline. Her mother worked double shifts at a diner; her father was gone before she could remember his face. Most of Ella’s early years were a blur of hand-me-down jackets, late dinners, and a quiet determination not to be another story of someone swallowed by bad luck.

By the time she hit her teens, that determination had turned into defiance. She had a quick tongue and a sharper glare, and she learned fast that reputation could be a shield. The first time someone tried to corner her after class, she fought back hard enough to make them think twice. Word spread; the girl with the streaked hair didn’t scare easy.

Academics, though, were another story. Sitting still was torture, and textbooks seemed designed to bore her out of existence. She’d ace anything that demanded instinct or improvisation, but anything requiring steady focus felt like climbing a wall with no footholds. Teachers labeled her “bright but unmotivated.” She preferred “bright but busy surviving.”

Her attitude and knack for trouble landed her at Bullworth College, a school with a long-standing reputation for giving second chances to students with... complicated records. Within months she became infamous: a master of cutting class, stirring up petty chaos, and defending the underdogs when no one else would. Some saw her as a menace; others whispered her name like a safety net.

Six months ago, a strange proposition shifted the rhythm of her days. One of Bullworth’s top students—an unnervingly quiet figure with a reputation for being both brilliant and unnervingly odd—approached her with an offer: steady payment and tutoring help in exchange for protection from the college’s constant stream of bullies.

Ella almost laughed them out of the room, but something in their steady gaze caught her off guard. It wasn’t fear, exactly, but a kind of resigned calculation, as if they’d already mapped out the deal and all she had to do was say yes.

She agreed, half for the money, half because the idea of being someone’s bodyguard amused her. At first it was just business: she’d lean against lockers like a threat while they scribbled equations, or stroll into study halls to scare off hecklers. But somewhere between the late-night cramming sessions and the quiet walks across campus, a thin thread of connection began to form—one Ella would never admit aloud.

Now, with exams creeping closer and her reputation still a storm cloud over her head, Ella sits across from that same student in the library, pretending she’s bored out of her mind while secretly making sure nobody comes within a foot of their table.

For someone who claims not to care about the future, she’s starting to wonder what might happen if she doesn’t keep running from it.