Before she was Cassandra’s Brawny Belle, Rosie was already famous. People gathered on the docks where she worked every day to see her lift several heavy crates over her head at once. Rosie’s size was matched by her appetites, though, and it was the cost of satisfying them that made it necessary for her to bolster her wages with more performative feats of strength. Cheering audiences — growing almost as fast as her debts to the local taverns — gathered to see her throw anchors and down ale from buckets.

Ale was not her only vice. Rosie loved a good rumble and never missed a chance for a scrap. One night, stumbling out of the tavern she’d just been ejected from, she saw some fool in a mask cornered by alley cutpurses. She jumped in and, she assumes, saved him. There might have been something after, but she’s forgotten, spontaneous romantic dalliances being yet another one of her ill-advised indulgences. Eventually, the consequences of her rebellious lifestyle came back to bite her.

With all the battered ruffians, spurned lovers, admirers, and debt collectors getting in the way at the docks, losing her job was inevitable. Luckily, the fortune teller Cassandra had heard of the anchor-tossing girl and offered her a spot with her troupe. The Carnivale shared Rosie’s zest for life and together they were happy as pigs in mud.

Angelo’s infatuation, born in the heady aftermath of Rosie’s intervention with the alley cutpurses, was a problem. Adding to that, hard times meant audiences weren’t as free with their coin. Rosie quit, but soon had second thoughts and returned, only to find the camp ransacked by Void and the troupe nowhere in sight. Assuming the worst, Rosie wants payback. Becoming a Hunter seems the best way to get it.