dynasty-rose palladina :||: D1 :||: FIN

grim. Capitol Resident 1,081 POSTS last seen Sept 30, 2020 18:45:26 GMT -5	dynasty-rose palladina :\|\|: D1 :\|\|: FIN Mar 13, 2015 11:21:00 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by grim. on Mar 13, 2015 11:21:00 GMT -5 Dynasty-Rose \| Palladina ---District One--- ---Seventeen--- ---Female?--- ---Insane?--- ---Multiple Personalities?--- FC: Jade Mcsorley Code: Odair
	Last Edit: Apr 9, 2015 23:23:29 GMT -5 by grim. where my demons hide.

grim.
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dynasty-rose palladina :||: D1 :||: FIN Mar 13, 2015 19:18:27 GMT -5

Post by grim. on Mar 13, 2015 19:18:27 GMT -5

The Tortured

“A person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn and not easily mended.”

    Your face is tainted with ink that you don't remember consenting. Your hair falls past your chest, and shines of an unnatural darkness. How had it become that color? Your brows had been thick, masculine to the eyes. Where had they gone? Your lips were full, and stained with lipstick. When had you put that vial stuff on your face? Your life was full of many questions like these. Maybe the words of others had some truth. But how could you believe something that your eyes had never witnessed? Your skin was a tanned olive, and always seemed to have a new feature when you awoke on Monday mornings. Sometimes it was a tattoo, other times a lasting scar. You didn't know what you had done to receive this scar, but you most likely deserved it. Your height was average, somewhere around 5'6", or maybe 5'7". You had been training since before you can remember. Your parents use to say that they were proud of your skills, but it seems over the years that has stopped. You wonder why?

Your feet were calloused and bruised. You didn't understand how, training never really did that big of a number on them. But you noticed a particular indent on your heel, like you had been wearing a set of high leveled shoes. But you have never owned a pair. Your legs were always shaved and moisturized, though you couldn't remember doing it yourself. Your hair was damaged, but you didn't know what from. Can the sun do that much damage? Your body was fit, and toned. This was normal in District One, the amount of training that happens among young adults is, extensive, to say the least. It was rare to see an out of shape 12-18 year old. Your hands were stained in ink as well. They also has glue stuck beneath the beds, as if a fake nail had rested there. Your body language was bland. You avoided seduction, and tried to lessen the attention of your canvased body. You couldn't let them see your imperfections.

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You had a heart of stone, or so you thought until it shattered. You loved little, but you loved hard. Your trust in friends and loyalty to everyone worth a damn, has landed you in your current state. You are desperate for the shelter of others, and the understanding of someone else. You don't have the capability of being a guardian. You are to weak to harbor another being, you could hardly care for yourself. You didn't speak out of turn, you were extremely respectful. Even to those that were of no hierarchy over you. You never hated, and when you disagreed, you simply fought a silent war. No need to ruin another persons day. You kept yourself working, for you were easily bored. Work usually consisted of only training, but it kept you busy. You were a simple girl, vulnerable, fragile, selfless.

You were afraid of the opinions of others. You hide your flaws the best you could, but with your beaten canvas, there was to much to hide. So you hide in the shadows, and avoid conflict. This of course meant you weren't very social. Very few comrades to call your own. You had an obsession with staring. You found yourself observing the world around you, causing other people of your age to see you as a threat. You of course meant nothing by it, but how could they know? You didn't find yourself home very often. You felt like a stranger in the place you grew up in, and you never understood why. Your father has changed during your aging, or maybe you are the one that has changed? Because of your discomfort, you found yourself wondering through the market, possibly sitting alone. Your father always found it so odd, that you would wonder the market and return empty handed.

Life felt like a blur to you. Watching it pass by, and wondering why it had changed so much. Did aging mean being forgotten? You frayed from any practice of vanity. How could you love a face that you hardly recognized? You felt as if your father was shameful of you. You and him had hardly spoken anymore. Your meetings use to consist of laughter and joy, then the dark days took over. Your life was hell, but then it stopped. The only thing worse then having your body plastered with purple and red, is being ignored. You could feel that he no longer loved you. But still you feel guilt, and you wonder were you had made your mistake.

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You were only one, singular, no sibling to call your own. You were raised by two parents, until your mother past, and now there is only him. You both live in a large house, filled with gaps of empty space. How could two bodies fill that large of space without leaving room for loneliness. The house use to be filled with people you loved. You use to house people that needed a home, or simply ran away from home. The house was filled with a mother, your mother. And nurtured my a Grammy, your Grammy. Your Grandmother was very polite. She had class and beauty, style and kindness. There was no one in the world who could replace her. Your Grandmother was a strong willed women, and that eventually led to her end. She was a baker, a simple baker in her free time. She knew of herbs that could only be found outside of the gates, these herbs would simply make her food more desirable. She would sneak out to harvest these plants. Your mother had a snake like mouth. She told the Peacekeepers of your Grammy's activity, and they beat her. They beat her until her back soaked red, until her old lunges could no longer do their duty. Your mothers venom was fatal, taunting her step-mother to her grave, six feet under the ground.

That was when your family became very distant. Your father ignored your mother, she was heading down a path that none of us could stop. But worse, he ignored you, you never understood why. Had you changed, was the relationship any different? Could the trauma of his mother's death, cause him to shut you out?  You eventually gave up, it would take time for him to heal, and all you had was time. Your mother eventually came around less often, she stayed out late, she wore unbelievably provocative clothing. She drank, and did unbelievably disgusting drugs. She was a mess, destroying her life one night at a time. Could it have been your fault?

It wasn't until the night that she hadn't returned, that your whole life changed. The next morning you saw her lifeless body dragged from a ditch. She had corrupted her body to the extent of death. Her heart had finally given up. After your mothers passing, that was when the dark years came. Your father was stuck working most of the time, and when he wasn't, his fist was finding a blank space on your body to discolor. You were convinced that he hated you, that he had given up hope for a decent daughter. But you hadn't changed, had you? This time of abuse was dreading, but then it suddenly stopped. And things became much worse for you. He had stopped hitting you, because he no longer felt any kind of care. He stopped caring to the extent that you meant nothing. You were simply a resident in his home, no daughter of his. And still you sit for long hours, and you wonder, why.

Last Edit: Apr 9, 2015 23:29:49 GMT -5 by grim.

where my demons hide.

grim.
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dynasty-rose palladina :||: D1 :||: FIN Mar 14, 2015 16:10:10 GMT -5

Post by grim. on Mar 14, 2015 16:10:10 GMT -5

The Angry

"Speak when you are angry - and you'll make the best speech you'll ever regret.
"

You had class, you were elegant, beautiful, graceful. Everything a modern day women lacked. If only they still made charms like yourself. You kept your youthful brunette hair tucked away, and gussied up your pretty face with a little makeup. Who said diamonds were a girls best friend? Well it may have been you. You dangle all sorts of gems from your neck and wrist. They simply made your face sparkle even brighter. Your lips were a violent red, and your eyes always had just a bit of liner. You dabbed your cheeks with rouse, and soaked your lashes in black. Some would say it was a bit much, but you simply had class. You find it humorous that men still fall for these little girls, these little girls who still need their mother to dress them. Like you have said a thousand times, they just don't make them like they use to.

You prefer the name Promethium. It suited you, sounded classy, no? It was glamorous. You were of course a normal sized girl, and always had a beautifully shaped body, no room for lazy people. Your hips swayed like no other, always making the boys scream and shout. But you never brought one home, no that wasn't lady like. Marriage, was of course always first. You loved to garden, cook even, just the perfect old fashioned house wife. What else could anybody need in a women? You were ready to get hitched, and live the perfect housewife lifestyle. I mean isn't that any sensible girls goal?

Of course you did have your flaws like any women. You had a bit of a temper, anger came to you quickly. And especially anger toward that wench of a step-daughter you have. Luckily that bitch burned in a ditch out in the middle of nowhere. Suites her well, she wasn't good enough for your son. He was such a good boy, now he was nothing more then sad, how ungrateful. Sometimes you could slap the living hell out of that boy, but you loved him, he was your son. I mean to think, you did all of his house work, and cooked. You would think he would be a bit more appreciative. Maybe that is why your anger has built up over these past years. Your didn't like the way you were treated. The hell with men, you wanted nothing more then for all of them to rot. Ha, the hell with everyone, you are pissed off. And there was no ending your thirst.

You search for any reason to thrust your fist into a wanting victim. You were independent, and didn't need a soul to take care of you. You were strong willed, and vial. Its funny how you use to look at the world. As if any of those vermin deserve your kindness. You hope they all burn in hell, and that you could be the one to put them there.

{Loosely based off of Dynasty's Grammy, But Dynasty's ideal of her after being lured to her death...so angry}

Last Edit: Apr 9, 2015 23:30:44 GMT -5 by grim.

where my demons hide.

grim.
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last seen Sept 30, 2020 18:45:26 GMT -5

dynasty-rose palladina :||: D1 :||: FIN Mar 14, 2015 16:20:09 GMT -5

Post by grim. on Mar 14, 2015 16:20:09 GMT -5

The Party

"It takes only one drink to get me drunk. The trouble is, I can't remember if it's the thirteenth or the fourteenth."

You loved the taste of anything that would fix your hangover in the morning. Your name was Radiance, it had a bright glory to it, right? Your hair was bright pink, just like you preferred. Folded over either shoulder, ending just past your ear. You face was painted with varies types of makeup. You put dark reds and purples on your lips, you enjoyed the wickedness. You framed your eyes in liner, and mascara. You loved to fill the crease of you eyelid with something vibrant. Your cheeks were highlighted, and your eyebrows drawn. They always had to meet your perfect expectations. Your body was toned, and gorgeous, you saw no reason not to flaunt it. Hey, every boy in District One deserved a peek.

You were the life of the part, you drank, danced, and sang, if you were drunk enough. Everyone seemed to love you, and why shouldn't they? You covered yourself in provocative clothing, you just live for the attention. Your breath smelled of tequila, and your nose lined with powder. You couldn't live without the high, it consumes you. You found yourself roaming the night looking for trouble. Perhaps hangout with a few "friends". Who said fun was illegal? You had friends all across the district. Who wanted to sit with your boring husband anyhow. Loyalty had its limits, right? Well if it hadn't, then you would just have to keep your late night events secret, now wouldn't you.

He didn't have the balls to leave you anyway. He would be a good husband and work away, in his little depressing state. Who knew getting his mother killed would make him so biter. The little old lady was on my last nerve, and she never liked me. Ha, as if I was going to be some white picket fenced housewife. I did what I damn pleased. And if I don't want to come home until Monday morning, then you bet your ass I will!

{Loosely based off of Dynasty's dead mom, and her issues before she died}

Last Edit: Apr 9, 2015 23:32:03 GMT -5 by grim.

where my demons hide.

grim. Capitol Resident 1,081 POSTS last seen Sept 30, 2020 18:45:26 GMT -5	dynasty-rose palladina :\|\|: D1 :\|\|: FIN Mar 14, 2015 16:55:26 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by grim. on Mar 14, 2015 16:55:26 GMT -5 fin.
	where my demons hide.

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dynasty-rose palladina :||: D1 :||: FIN Mar 23, 2015 3:20:00 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2015 3:20:00 GMT -5

You are now allowed to use this character on the boards.

If your character has a play-by, please register him/her with the Face Claim. Plotting opportunities can be found in Character Plots and open threads are listed in Open Threads.