Okay so I'm doing this Selection rp thing on insta and I had to think of a character. I really wanted to use the genderbend!Washington I'd found a while ago (above) so I immediately started thinking. Three seconds later I came up with a name: Louisa. Taken from the amazing Historical Fiction Turn: Washington's Spies by turnt-lafayette, Louisa is an amazing character, and I knew I had a lot to work with.

So, basically, I made a fanfiction of a fanfiction. And after a half an hour, this is what I'd come up with:

~~~
Louisa Tallmage
Age: 22

+Hardworking/Dedicated
+Loving/Caring
+Passionate about things/people close to her
+Objective
=Not particularly adept at romance
=Would die to protect kids, but few others, and not strangers. Kids take priority.
=Always in casual attire, but loves getting done up fancy whether or not there's a reason
=Likes to eat with chopsticks
-Mentally absent a lot
-Closed off
-Keenly observant
-Very nosy

Favourites:
- Book(s): Common Sense (Payne), Hamilton (Chernow), Washington (Chernow), Harry Potter (Rowling), Ender's Game (Card)
- Food(s): Beans, Clam Chowder, Lemon Poppy Muffins
- Music: Classic rock, R&B, Classical
- Websites(s): Twitter, nytimes.com,
- Body of water: River
- Beverage: Hard Cider, Sparkling Apple Cider
- Pasta: Gnocchi
- Pass time: Reading fantasies and historical children's books to her kids, Horseback riding, Climbing trees until the branches can't support her weight

Fears:
- Dying before her kids "can take it"
- Fear
- Old ghosts dredging up her past to harming her
                • harm intended for her reaching her kids

        Louisa was raised in a casual, loving environment until a house fire at age six, which she barely remembers. Both her parents died, as well as her older sister. The fire was later discovered to be arson, and that the only victims were supposed to be her parents. It was only good luck that kept her alive, something her sister didn't have. This is the spark for Louisa's intense fear of long-gone enemies, for the man arrested and tried for the arson turned out to be a man owning an establishment Louisa's father once wrote a poor review for. The establishment had begun to crumble, for Louisa's father was a very distinguished man, and the owner of the company had never gotten over the devastation.
        This also has led to Louisa leading a very closed-off, and meaningless life (in her opinion), because he voice had long been lost in fear of making enemies who would later be her destruction. This fear was further enforced by an attempted arson on one of her mother's workplaces years later.
        Six years old was when her house burned down, and also when she would have been put into foster care. Luck saved her again by placing her friends' mother at the scene of the fire before anyone could take her away.
        Seven years old was when she stopped writing "Adams" behind Louisa, and began writing "Tallmage.
        Ten years old was when she started painting. Nothing made her happier than making colours mix and swirl, blending and contrasting until a masterpiece was left behind. Of course they weren't masterpieces at first, but someday...
        Fourteen years old was when she started painting for a purpose. The unsatisfied people in her area had started revolting. Layers of organized crime were hidden in every crack on the cobblestone streets. The first massacre happened right in front of Louisa's eyes. She photographed it in her memory, and later printed it out onto her canvas. Her adoptive mother made her keep it in her room, away from the windows. Louisa understood. It could create enemies. After all, the painting showed the massacre how it really was, as opposed to how the rebels twirled it: vulgar and unprovoked on the rebels' side, and bloody and defensive on the Crown's side.
        Sixteen years old was when her first painting got sold. It was one of a summer day upstate with her family. One of empty grassy fields, a large forest of massive trees, and all her siblings hanging in the branches. Unlike most of her work, it was calm, tranquil, and unprovoking.
        Seventeen years old was when the past whispered in her ear and said "I'm still here." The man apprehended claimed to be another victim of her father's published displeasure. It was again luck that Louisa was not harmed, or even killed. She had been on her way to one of her mother's old offices when the young orphan was stopped by an old friend, with whom she took time to grab a coffee before promptly dropping it in shock several hundred feet later, when the sight of the scorching flames encompassing her inherited property danced into view.
        Seventeen years old was when she chose to renew her name, now not her adoptive surname, but her marital one.
        Eighteen years old was when her and Benjamin, her now-husband, had their first child, Samuel. Both of the two opted for adoption. Given her past, Louisa was understandably hesitant. By now, her paintings were roughly half political, half everything else. And people got mad about the political ones.
        Nineteen years old was when André, the second of the Tallmage adoptive lineage, was born. Louisa was still hesitant, but nothing had gone wrong so far. She allowed herself to hope.
        Twenty years old was when her hope was ripped from her and thrown headfirst into the abyss.
        Twenty years old was when her past finally caught up with her.
        Twenty years old was when her past laughed in her face chanting "I'M STILL HERE!"
        Twenty years old was when some angry rebel set her studio on fire.
        Twenty years old was when she was running late again, this time held up by lunch.
        Twenty years old was when Benjamin had decided to surprise her at work.
        Twenty years old was when her food was once more forgotten as it succumbed to gravity.
        And twenty years old was when she lost the love of her life.

        Twenty years old was when she stood at a black gravestone crying. When she planted flowers in her front yard. When she laid a smooth, rounded stone on the grass in front of her doorstep, for while the flowers would wilt and die, the stone would last forever. And twenty years old was when she painted a picture to outstand all her others. A black gravestone, surrounded by grass, a smooth stone in front, a background of flame. An old-fashioned roof and two walls above and on either side of the gravestone, prominently discernible from the orange and red, yet still distinctly on fire. She never sold that one. It hung on display in her front window. A testament to Ben, a testament to her grief, and a testament to the rebels. "Never forget."

        Twenty-one years old was when she deemed her heart and mind fit for proper function again. She cast aside her misery and grief and delved back into everyday life.
        Twenty-two years old was when the Selection was announced. And the mild interest of her mind, the light prodding of her heart, and the incessant begging of her two children, not even six, either of them, but their minds much older.
        Twenty-two was when Louisa Tallmage signed up to change her life.

~~~~~

So yeah! What do you guys think? I had to modernize it, so that obviously chanced a lot. Should I write a one Shot on this? xD Those of you who may have read Washington's Spies already, what do you think? Am I close to Louisa's character? How do like her kids' names? LEMME KNOW! I live off feedback!!

That should be it for now. Love you guys! Bye!

Update: the Selection was cancelled :( I'm about to join another one as a Royal, though, so maybe I'll get to use her again!