This may have been a long time coming, but from the adminsā real life responsibilities to everyoneās busy schedules, we think itād be best for Vainglory to go on an indefinite hiatus. Plot wise, we had a lot planned for this roleplay, but seeing fewer interactions than weād hoped for made us realize that we still had some dynamics to work out, including a smoother integration between Yongui and Wang as well as releasing our plot drops/planned events from the get-go. Nonetheless, we thank each and every one of you who reserved, applied, and showed interest in our first roleplay. We loved the threads, plotting, and chatting that took place, and it was incredible watching relationships bloom and creativity run free. If youād like to do so, feel free to keep writing with this verse or the characters youāve created here. Weāre not sure if Vainglory will be returning, but if we do (perhaps in the summer), we hope most of you will join us once again. We love you all and best of luck with everything!
Send āāā for a MORNING text.
Send āāā for a text that WASNāT SENT.
Send āāā for a RUSHED text.
Send āāā for a DRUNK text.
Send āāæā for a SUGGESTIVE text.
Send āĆøā for a LATE NIGHT text.
Send āāā for a HATEFUL text.
Send ā#ā for a RANDOM text.
Send ā@ā for a SCARED text.
Send ā&ā for a LOVING text.
Send ā%ā for a CURIOUS text.
Send āćā for an EXCITED text.
Send ā$ā for an ACCIDENTAL text.
Send āāā for a HEARTBREAKING text.
this looks awesome. will there be events or plot drops?
Thank you! Weāre actually in the process of planning an event to be released within the next two weeks (the admin team has been a little busy these past few days), so be on the lookout for that!Ā
THE FOLLOWING HAVE NOT POSTED ACTIVITY IN THE PAST WEEK. Please post an in-character starter, thread, para, meme response, etc. or message the main within the next 48 hours to retain your role.
INTRODUCING KUDO SOSUKE, a thirty one years old marksman. He is affiliated with the Wang syndicate, with the faceclaim of Abe Tomo.
HOMETOWN/RESIDENCE: Matsuura is a city in Nagasaki Prefecture, located in southern Japan most notable for its history of the Matsuura Clan in ancient Japanese history. Currently resides in a well-to-do apartment alone in Inchon-dong, known for its population of Japanese expats that makes getting by in Seoul uncomplicated.
PERSONALITY:
Heās too much like his mother and not enough like his father.
Gentle, faithful, patient, grounded, he has the consciousness of somebody unfit for an unforgiving profession.
The worlds collide and contradict when sensitivity meets the desire to be subjective. Perhaps itās a mechanism that has kept him alive thus far, the divide between acting on emotion versus well reasoned prospects. He relates to people and figures more often than he does with beings of make believe; imaginations stored in books, although great to read.
The only way heās similar to his father is through venom.
In a whirlpool of smoldering narcissistic tendencies, defensiveness and obsession for the unattainableā absolute perfectionā lies a brute. Analytical and systematic, he weighs up the positives against the negatives and lines them against a blackboard waiting to be evaluated. His temper is slow-brewing and grim, he remembers but never forgives.
BIOGRAPHY:
The bringer of death is also a storyteller. He waits as the clocks are ticking, time is abysmal while he is faithful in his work, dirtying his hands for a God so neglectful of his existence.
Tonight, he will share a tale of the politician with a square jaw, might have he abandoned his first born son who now lives in poverty with his same-sex lover. Or the lap dogs patrolling the district in their blue uniforms, police officers namely, but they multiply and swell by the dozen that all of their backstories begin sounding alike. He does this when he shouldnāt, old teller of tales. Humanizing his preys, endorsing them a life he thinks they deserve before they fall at the drop of a hat.
The characters in myths are typically gods, demigods, supernatural creatures and diabolical fiends with the cameo of super-normal humans. Legends are told through the lenses of what supposedly happened for all that humankind has to offer. The Wang Syndicate made a man into a weapon, from happening truth to story truth.
He talks like he knows what itās like to kill, clenches and holds his revolvers like heās killed before. His first kill was supposed to be his hundredth, it keeps him up at night.
His loyalty is paid in life when the walls of the syndicate aches for his arrival. He is told to wear it like a badge of honor, his enlistment that is, where the Wangās doors arenāt opened an inch apart for anybody, a nobody.
It is in the lionās den will he become a somebody. The Ikebukuro Sharpshooter, heās been told; Inagawa-kaiās most trusted man at the end of the barrel. He never misses.
Kudo Sosuke (27) was sentenced to five years in jail for conspiracy of racketeering and extortion under the business of an organized crime. He doesnāt spend his days carving tallies on cement above his head, a neighboring onlooker will grant him freedom for the right price. Under one condition.
He crept in his office as gunfire and smoke sets the lair ablaze. Their matters donāt concern him until his life is brought into question.
He had been a bookkeeper for a mafia owned club. His degree in applied mathematics from Todai and accounts of studying in China and the United Kingdom earned him the seal of approval from the discouraged ten to fifteen applicants.
When he is born, there are no cries of relief, rejoice. His father tells him that his being was largely a mistake that couldnāt have been undone. In southernmost Nagasaki Prefecture, the son of a ship engineer and nurse live to see another day.
SAMPLE:
The sun is beginning to lower itself beneath the horizons and the buildings of Seoul. The cityās skyline now shrouded in smog, he lights a cigarette to further the damage of the ecosystem. A habit induced atypically, not without a household growing up around smokers but a routine picked up on the fringes of tension. That, he recognizes. Sosuke inhales and exhales, his image undetectable as he sits atop a watchtower stories into the clouds.
The sniper rifleās out of his reach. The sunās in his eyes and it stings an ugly, alarming orange-red gleam that he cannot look away. āHey,ā he says. He beckons his trainee, fresh faced in the presence of ānowā. āYou know whatās it like to be a millionaire?ā
A small gust of wind enters the rugged opening where their weapons lie to shoot.
āIt means two failed divorces, four kids from two different mothers and insane amounts of bankruptcy that even the news outlets arenāt reporting anymore; itās exhausting.ā He sighs and withdraws another inhale, āWouldnāt you be tired too? Having an impressive degree in journalism just to write the same shit about a bastard who canāt keep it in his pants let alone run a generational company, Iād be spent.ā Sosuke rests on his back and stares at the ceiling until he starts to see images etched. The poor kidās got a stressed index finger over the trigger and their world around them feels like only years have passed. āExcept this time Iām not making it up, thatās why thereās no fun in today.ā
The clock strikes four in the afternoon. Their time is up.
āThe supermarketās got a sale on hanwoo, a Tuesday special, you know.ā
INTRODUCING SON MINSIK, a twenty seven years old armed bodyguard. He is affiliated with Yongui, and is canon as CHARIOTĀ with the faceclaim of Oh Sehun.
HOMETOWN/RESIDENCE: born and raised in Seoul. currently lives in a one bedroom apartment in mapo-gu.
PERSONALITY:Ā
the only thing that really matters to minsik, and which precedes any of his qualities, is professionalism. almost a decade of wearing dog tags has greatly impacted his worldview. it matters very little how much contempt he holds for rich seoulites or yongui, his job is to keep his opinions to himself and carry out his duties to the best of his abilities.
perhaps a bit cynical, too hung up over semantics, privately minsik can come off as sensible. itās not that heās shy, but scared of having to learn. heās been described as being too guarded. but heād rather let life pass him by than having to hurt.
BIOGRAPHY: tw: abuse mentions
his grandparents made their money by buying foreclosed properties and renting/selling them. for a while, they operated on a legal grey zone that included āforcefulā negotiations that often led to evictions.
his father who inherited the business turned it into a real estate empire with a relatively good rep, with a net worth of roughly 1.2 billion u.s. dollars.
his mother was a heiress to a publishing company, who gave up on her sociology degree to marry. but sheās invested in journalism and has an impressive body of work under a moniker.
minsikās parents consider themselves to be humanitarians, but founded a non-profit that at the time of itās conception had grossly imbalanced profit margins. it was subject to an investigation that went nowhere.
minsik has a complicated relationship to his parents, who had his life figured out for him before he was even born. heās the oldest out of three siblings.
as the oldest he was expected to take over the family business and was sent abroad to study business administration and finance. however, his motherās 24/7 surveillance and controlling nature made it difficult for him to network. while he has a fancy degree, itās virtually useless on its own without his family backing him.
went on a couple of dates at his motherās request, and ended up going out with the candidate his mother liked the most.
his girlfriend turned out to be extremely insecure and manipulative, to the point where she threatened him with suicide and harmed herself whenever heād so much as forget to reply to her messages.
after a year of ācourtshipā they got married, despite minsik pleading with both his mother and girlfriend that he didnāt want to. he was nineteen at the time.
his now-wife became obsessively controlling after officially tying the knot. minsik was not allowed to talk to other women, had to ask for permission before going out. she picked out his clothes, decided his diet, what shampoo he got to use, what car he drove. he had no life of his own.
he tried to reason with her a couple of times. practically begged her for a divorce. but his wife would always throw a fit. would hurt him and then herself. and he came to understand that her proclaiming her love for him did not mean that she cherished his well-being.
desperate to get away, minsik enlisted.
his wife had a meltdown when she found out and after thrashing their living room, called the police crying. her husband had come home agitated and had tried to force himself on her, and when sheād refused his advances he had become violent. minsik was taken away in handcuffs. and when his mother eventually showed up at the police station with tears in her eyes, he told her that he was tired. he was very tired.
he spent the next week at his parentsā under constant scrutiny. so his wife lied, but she only lied because she is distraught. she had to resort to such extreme measures because he is uncooperative. he wants to enlist? but heās at an age where he should be starting a family. minsik realized that no one would save him. and that he had to save himself. he practically ran away to the military.
during compulsory duty, heād get a stream of calls from his mother and mother-in-law: his wife cut her wrists, his wife was showing signs of pregnancy, his wife was claiming that she miscarried because he abandoned her, his wife was in and out of hospitals due to her deteriorating health.
she eventually complied with the divorce, but at the expense of his public goodwill. she painted the most heinous of pictures while talking about their home life: heās never home, violent, an amoral adulterer. she spoke of rape, domestic violence. his parents disowned him as soon as the divorce went through.
he was stationed at osan air base for 2 years to complete his compulsory active duty. then transferred to seongnam where he was enlisted to a special warfare training group. and was then outsourced to the military mutual aid association, which at the time was establishing a private military company.
at the beginning, he was promised relatively stable work. on paper, what they were supposed to be doing was equipment support, logistic supply, maintenance and repair: welfare services for primarily u.s. forces in foreign countries. but he spent 3 and a half years in smaller sized units stationed in anywhere from Iraq to South Sudan.
his last deployment was supposed to be routine work. barely 3 months away from base. a week before his scheduled flight, he was hit by a car on his way to the bus station after a colleagueās birthday party.
he woke up at the hospital with a completely decimated right femur. his thigh was in a thick cast and pain had a tight grip on his spine. a nurse told him that he āwas quite lucky, he couldāve died. he spent his brief lucid moments wondering if the guy lying next to him behind the ugly mint green curtains had also been told that he had gotten lucky.
he was then let go. he wouldāve been out of commission for at least half a year for rehabilitation, and a mercenary with a useless leg is not a mercenary: heās a liability. minsik was compensated for his time and sent on his way.
minsik picked up a couple of useless hobbies to pass time. he landed a job at a night club through an acquaintance from the army. the pay was abysmal but he had enough in the bank to not worry about his finances for a while. it was mostly about getting out of the house, not allowing himself to sit home by himself and think.
when yongui entered his life, they make it clear that heās not been given a choice. his ex wife had gone missing two years ago and he was explicitly linked to her disappearance. an unresolved domestic violence charge on his file that wouldnāt take much to dig up. his compliance in exchange for a stable work life and no headaches. but he knew from experience that when someone extended their hand and promised goodwill, it usually wasnāt mutually beneficial.
SAMPLE:
Itās a thirty minute drive from gangnam to his tiny apartment in mapo. traffic is moderately busy. the radio serves as barely audible white noise over the bedrock of humming exhaust pipes.
heād used to fault this city for his fault. mostly, it was comforting to attribute the mundane to an extraordinary source. heās growing older and itās been a steep learning curve, but heās started to appreciate the crush of people. they go on with their lives unperturbed. itās comforting. no one would be able to put a name to his face.
they know as little about him as he does himself.
when he was younger heād asked so earnestly for nothingness.
itād been scary, at first. the thought of nothing. but then itād exhilarate him. heād no longer have to question himself. heād always felt the desperate need to hold onto the belief that there was something out there set on saving him. thatās why he studied his horoscope religiously and occasionally phoned spirit mediums on late night TV, asking for guidance. he also consulted a shaman priest once, but felt empty after the session and developed a profound fear against drums.
whereas back then heād felt raw, skinless almost. an incoherent shape of gore barely held up together. now itās a whole person he sees barely reflected back to him on the car window.
when he pulls over to get on the bridge over to the han river, his head empties.
Headcanons:Ā
married to the job: a workaholic. doesnāt like vacations or days off. misses the very strict routine that was drilled into him when he was a soldier. usually spends all of his free time at the gym or caring for his small garden heās nurturing on his balcony.
the comically serious: finds humor in practically nothing, and never gets a joke. mostly due to the fact that heās naturally stoic and that his upbringing was very strict. his years as a soldier were cheerier than his childhood.
grew a spine: after being under his motherās thumb, and then his ex-wifeās, heās learned to say no and stand up for himself while in the army.
consummate professional: does what is required of him, and is very particular about work ethics. hates it when people arenāt on time. has gotten incredibly angry at coworkers for forgetting their uniform/IDs at home before.
no social skills: has never really been a bundle of charm. heās a bit too honest for his own good, and extremely insensitive. that combo doesnāt make friends.
private military contractor: was scouted by the mmaa when he was a soldier under roka.
INTRODUCING HWANG WOOJIN, a twenty three years old actor and socialite. He is currently unaffiliated with an organization, with the faceclaim of Park Jimin.
HOMETOWN/RESIDENCE:Ā woojin was born in manhattan, new york. he stayed in the states until he finished high school, then picked up and moved to seoul. he currently resides in an apartment in the UN village, located at the edge of hannam-dong. his apartment is clean and modern, very concise with a red, white and black color scheme. itās large and luxurious, almost too big for one person to live in.
PERSONALITY:
the faƧade he commits to requires him to seem like this alluring, respectful āitā boy. heās charming and witty, fully able to engage anyone he meets with a conversation. he has a way with words that makes everyone seem so special to himāwhich is why he has so many fans and admirers. but on the inside, heās fake. mean. he acts with motive and disregards human emotions if they get in the way of what he wants.
heās a snarky piece of shit who has no concept of empathy. his dual personality stints from his past memories, realizing itās better to have the upper-hand and be controlling than to let himself become vulnerable and care about someone other than himself. because of this, heās observant and can judge someoneās personality right off the batāand usually is right. he does this to protect himself, to surround himself with people who he can easily manipulate for some type of gain. he had a heart, until reality broke it.
BIOGRAPHY:
woojinās maternal family were affluent members of new york society. they were business people, ready to scope out partnerships that would benefit their investment companyāmoon&co. she was the most desired bachelorette, not just for her money, but her wit and beauty. she was indeed the charmerāa trait she passed onto her son. his mother had many suitors, but none could make her feel that made-for-television romance she craved so much. until she met woojinās father, freshman year at columbia university.
they lived their lives on two extremes. she was a posh socialite who was guaranteed entrance at any ivy league by the wave of a wand (and millions of dollars of ādonationsā) and he was a first-generation immigrant child who lived in queens, working his ass off to get into columbia to support his parents. they were too different, but worked so well together. they were in love, the purest of loves that would make anyoneās heart flutter just by looking at them. but his grandparents had other plans.
in comes the kim family developers, one of the largest east asian land developers of this generation. they had their heir, who had his eye on the moon familyās heiress for quite some time. his grandparents forced his parents apart, all for personal gain. but his mother had a secret. she was pregnant, and she wasnāt ready to let go of that baby.
his grandparents refused to claim woojin as their own, even in his motherās womb. they shunned her from all public events and gatherings, making up some drawn out excuse about his mother taking a few semesters off of university to relax. her husband-to-be was seemingly supportive. he allowed her to live with him in his penthouse, went to doctorās visits and prenatal classes, took care of her cravings and made sure she was taking her prenatal vitamins. his biological father, however, had no idea she was going through this. he assumed the arranged marriage and her family were more valuable than him.
woojin was put through an adoption agency after the firefighters discovered him. he would then grow up in the foster care system, jumping from home to home. he was rough around the edges, but his heart was still pure. he took care of the younger kids at their home, always volunteering to be their big brother whenever they need it. he swears by helping and nurturing others. until he gets a strange message.
his mother asks to meet up, against her husbandās wishes, of course. so they do. heās indifferent, letting her speak her side before forming his opinion. she tells him that his biological dad tried to find him after she left him, but his grandparents made it impossible for anyone other than the moon family to contact woojin. his father died, just before woojinās 13th birthday. itās too much for him to understand, but he tries to hear her side. until she tells him about her family. the kids she hasāa girl and a boy. the husband who takes care of them. the grandparents who spoil them. she tells him about how his life should have turned out. and heās angry.
he turns his back on his mother, calling her every name in the book. how dare she abandon him? to start another family with kids she actually wanted? he vows to never see her again. and he doesnāt. his mother, with a few words, broke his entire heart. woojin now realizes the woman who was programmed to love him, left him cold.
this is where he goes off the wagon. he throws this good boy image away briefly, meddling with drugs to cope with this emptiness in his heart. itās his personal euphoria, where he doesnāt have to think. his reputation in foster care starts to diminish; thereās threats of kicking him out. so he compromises. and thatās where this fake duality arises. pretending to be good so he can have fun on his own.
heās eighteen, his own person now. he decides to go to korea, start fresh. school wasnāt hard for him but he didnāt see himself continuing education. he starts to market himself as some āgoody-two-shoesā up and coming actor, which eventually landed him a small roll in a music video. this brought him some attentionāat least enough to get him a lead role for a web drama. he started appearing on television shows as the rookie newcomer with the sweet side that womenāand some menācanāt get enough of.
heās banking on this image heās thought out for himself. heās having the best time of his life now, a fan of making these meaningless connections to make him look better. heās everyoneās favorite āitā boyāuntil they learn his truth. if he ever lets them.
SAMPLE:
he feels it. the gaze from across the bar, pupils moving up and down his frame to analyze his appearance. he feels them putting the facts together, paying attention to the little details of his outfit, hair, mannerisms. then he sees them recognize him, a small squeal from a younger looking female on the edge of the seating area. what do they see, exactly?
his hairās parted down the middle, waves flared out but framing his temples, dark in color and a little longer than usual in length. his silk button-up, a few buttons undone to show off his toned chest, was adorned with small, silver details. thereās a few layered chains peaking out from his bare chestāhe knows theyāre staring a little extra because of it. his fingers trace the glass of whiskey, a few rings accessorized on his middle and index. those groups of eyes from across the bar note how effortless he looks (but they donāt realize that he took forever figuring out what to wear to be noticed but not mobbed).
he decides to look up at them, a small, manufactured smile appearing on his plump and pink lips. woojin raises his glass with an insincere laughānot that they knew it was fake. do that thing with your eyes, they love that. a few girls put their hands up against their mouths to conceal their shock, the rest giggling and hitting each other. it worked. reel them in now.
woojin slides off the barstool, legs sauntering over towards the girls, waving his hand at the bartender. āget them some shots, on me. keep the tab open.ā his hand rests against the tabletop, blocking out the incessant screams and overly familiar questions. that same, snide smirk appears on his countenance again, āyes, iām the hwang woojin.ā
Headcanons:Ā
likes to bring around a polaroid camera when he travels/goes out. he keeps all the photos in a memory box in his closet. some photos date back to his time in foster care.
big fan of the animal crossing franchise. has a town named āmileniaā and grows peaches. he separates his flowers by species and color, all over town.
when he feels like heās getting emotional/overworked/stressed, he cleans. sometimes he rearranges his whole closet, others he scrubs down the whole house to relieve any tension.
has a habit of running his fingers through his hair. does this multiple times during a conversation. does it even more when he notices his fans are watching.
has a black cat who likes to knead his forehead when heās in bed.
INTRODUCING KWON SELINE, a thirty five years old drug lord. She is affiliated with the Wang syndicate, and is canon as HIGH PRIESTESS with the faceclaim of Han Yeseul.
HOMETOWN/RESIDENCE: Born and raised in the outskirts of Seoul. She currently resides in an unknown luxury complex.
PERSONALITY: Ā
She holds herself with effortless grace and ruthless flexibility. The once sad girl had grown up to become a hauntingly beautiful woman who knows how to play her cards right. She is a revered forbidden fruit with a detached gaze but with a silver tongue. For her, life is a battle of wits and whoever has the best strategy wins. She is skillful and creative, loves to show off her talents, but at times can be vain. Her pride is deadly. At times, she exhibits a very ruthless aura, other times, she is the vision of pure loveliness.
Her attitude changes almost daily, depending on the situation. She uses her wisdom to decide how she should react in a situation. She is self-directed, self-motivated, goal-oriented and focused rather than diffuse in her thinking. She is like a storm ; ever-changing, in the end choosing what benefits her -and those around her- the most..
BIOGRAPHY: tw: abuse mentions
Seline was the product of a forbidden situation. She was born 35 years ago. Both a blessing and a curse. Itās fine to be willed into existence. Some say itās fine for others to dictate anotherās life for the selfishness of their own needs. Especially during the younger years, where some children are seen as nothing more than resources, utilised for the desires of the older humans.
Though the product of rebellion, and a deep, incessant need to run from the past, Seline remembers very clearly the years of her early childhood. Very clearly. She can recall a smell from a corked bottle. She can recall the feeling of tough skin against the tips of her fingers. She can recall the last memories of the woman who bore her. She could still remember the smell of her floral perfume, and how sheād receive a random kiss on her forehead as her mother left without explanation for the night.
Her parents, they should have never of even crossed paths. Kwon Seline was the product of an affair. She was born in a fierce November snow storm. Winter came early that year, and so did Seline. Nearly two months early in fact. It was uncertain if she was going to make it at some points, but she was a fighter.
Her father was a man with a very, very long line of military heritage. His strength and courage was phenomenal to some. However, what he had in strength was matched in what he lacked with compassion and trust. He was quite skeptical of the nights that his wife would leave, claiming she was put on night shift. He knew that she had to work. What he didnāt trust was that she wasnāt with other men. Seline would never actually be able to know this because her mother had the courage to leave before Seline could even turn six years old.
After she was gone, her father immediately started teaching her ways to earn a living ā how to earn money by pickpocketing and causing pity. He believed that there was no reason for her to ever go to school. Seline was meant to be the one who would take care of him now. She was a bit of a disappointment though. She was no good at pickpocketing or lying and he was not a patient man.
The sounds of hits striking her before the low restrained grumble of the word do it again echoed in her ears on repeat. It pained her heart that no matter how much she endured, it didnāt make her actually successful. He didnāt understand that if he had no issues learning the way of earning money on his own why should she. He became hateful, and even more cruel with age. He didnāt claim her as his daughter anymore. Heād auction her off to any of his disgusting friends to do whatever they pleased. If she wasnāt going to bring home money, he would at least make her an employee of sorts. Fighting back felt useless because he was always stronger than she was.
She was a slave. Essentially, a sex slave. And taken up so well, taught to be so obedient that there was no time to cry. No time to feel the ugly green monster on the back of her shoulders. Creeping, crawling, willing her to take it out on others. To become ugly herself. Riding the weight of that suppressed rage, carrying it all the way to her adolescent years. It wasnāt until the departure of her dearest friend ā a dog she had saved from the hands of her drunken father ā someone to whom she anchored her childhood down to sanity. The last creature in her life to whom Seline felt true, utter, pure love for.
That day she went out. She simply needed a break or just a moment to breathe ā even if it would be hell to pay when she went back or when her father found her again.
She sat alone thinking and imagining what her life would be like if she were in a different situation.
Little did she know that on that fateful night, under the bright light of the moon with the thoughts of wishing to be anyone but herself, Hana would take her in. While terrified at what was to come, she felt liberated.
Then, and only then, did she allow the hell within her to unleash. Never the quiet child, and marred by red handprints and bruises across her body, she willingly shed her sad childhood in favour of a lustrous adulthood. A deal with the devil, some would say, though she would never call it selling her soul. Willingly gave it away, in favour of a new one. In favour of a new life. Willingly rid herself of her old identity, in favour of creating a new one.
She kept her name. A reminder of a life once carried upon her shoulders. Though, for everything else, no one would ever be able to tell. And so, proceeds. Proceeds with the rest of her life, in anywhere but that hell. Though envy wrapped around her as a child, it caresses her throughout her later years. Gentle whispers of silk against skin, almost, a temptation that pulls others forth, into her presence. Not so easy to dismiss, and so easy to fall right into.
SAMPLE:
She goes through life, wandering, breathing, but not truly living. Something isnāt right with her thoughts, her skin, her very existence. Itās scattered.
She canāt sit still but she canāt keep moving. She lives in a constant state of obscurity, her future unsettling, her vision unable to see even her hands in front of her.
Sometimes she doesnāt know what the future has planned for her. Sometimes her teenage years come back to haunt her. The biting sting of a belt against her back. The ghost of fiery lips against her skin.
She is living in the past, even while living in the present.
Something is wrong with her. Is she who she is meant to be or is there more growing to be done?
Headcanons:
Has a scar on her torso under her left arm from an operation gone wrong. She has a photo of it for keepsake.
An astrology enthusiast. Following is the result from a āwe can guess your horoscope signā test she took: Scorpio people have a lot of presence. There is something about them that tells the world that they are not to be pushed around. Their manner commands respect, and in some cases, fear. They can be quiet or loud, but they always seem powerful and determined. You either love or hate a Scorpio ā they are rarely people who go through life unnoticed. They seem to look right through people, seeing through superficiality. Scorpio people, in their dealings with others, look for answers by reading between the lines. Surface details are discarded when they are getting a feel for people and situations around them.
Sheās been diagnosed with hyperthymestic syndromeāoften referred to as highly superior autobiographical memory. And has an amazing factual memory which allows her to remember her juniors files, making her know them just as well as she knows the palm of her hand.
Loves dogs, yet she canāt see herself having one of her own in fear of losing it. Some wounds never heal.
