celine roxen -- d4 -- wip

( a p p e a r a n c e )

Somewhere, in the midst of the madness of the Roxen household, you can find her. Now, by no means is she completely ordinary ( no one is ) But, I can guarantee, you can identify her at first glance.

She probably has that long nose in a book, the cover masking her face from any unwanted attention. Her deep brown eyes are like kaleidoscopes, hued with ambers and greens and blues -- mainly brown -- as they sweep across the small text. As if light dances across her irises. ( it's really a miracle if you can see those eyes of hers; they are usually hidden by the pages ) Her narrow shoulders hunched over in any given corner of a room -- as if she wants to look smaller than she already is. Nothing about her seems intimidating, her small feet angled inwards, her knobby knees locked together. Skinny arms are propped up on equally skinny thighs, tapering fingers clutching the cover of the book. ( the house could easily be burning down and she wouldn't notice ) She shifts the book, to the point where you can only see the brown twists of unkept hair that crown her head. Her pale skin -- dyed red with sunburn -- contrasts the strands that dust over her shoulders.

Then she rises, the book closed with a soft thud. Her legs seem longer than one would expect ( 5'6", if you were curious ), and carry her with a distinct grace as she makes her way through the room. Her full lips -- looking as if they haven't moved in years -- stay in a neutral position across her face, expressionless. Her frame is slight and slender, as if being so tall made her lack any extra fat.  Such a calm manner. Not many could guess she was at the tender of age fourteen. But, now, she seems a lot more mature than she should be. ( she did have her growth spurts early ) Her fingers find the door knob, as well as a few stray strands of hair that crept into her face ( though a few refuse to stay tucked behind her ears, thanks to the rugged hair cuts she gives herself ) The door squeaks open, and she glides down to the beach -- which is never out of reach. Waves crash across the sand, and the sound echoes into her ears --  ears that stick out just― a little. She folds her long legs under her and sits on the soft, pristine grains.

The breeze presses the obvious hand-me-down clothes, making them look less loose on her, but didn't emphasize anything else. Her narrow face seemed to light up a little at being at the ocean, her eyes burst to life and emotion. The sun rays feel her skin, lighting up her high set cheekbones, making the hollows of her cheeks more noticeable than before. ( she isn't underfed, if you think that ) Her eyebrows, slender and arched, seem to bring out each fine, long lashes that line her eyes. And, you can actually see small spills of faded freckles, sprinkled across the pinched bridge of her nose and cheeks. Her fingers start to scoop up damp sand, letting some of it filter through in wet lumps. And, soon enough, it was starting to take form. It happened so fast, as if she did it everyday. So there, on a beach, a kingdom was formed. The sand castle made something change in her, the intense look on her face and steady fingers that create columns and walls. ( it's an obvious passion ) 

And she sits there for several hours, ignoring any yelling that she could hear from her house. Her kingdom is finished, and she stands, walking away and letting wind and water destroy her hard work. ( she doesn't seem irritated ) That same expressionless emotion molds her face. The door opens, and she embraces the chaos with crossed arms.

do you ever wonder if the stars shine out for you?
float down, like autumn leaves
hush now, close your eyes before the sleep
and you're miles away
and yesterday, you were here, with me



( p e r s o n a l i t y )

If you hadn't guessed already, Celine Annemari Roxen is as silent as they come. ( she's up for the quiet game any day ) She's quite fond of yes or no questions, because all they require are a shake or nod of the head. She never responds to insults thrown her way, usually only speaks when she's addressed. Whereas most are unnerved by absolute silence, Celine enjoys only hearing the faintest thrum in her ears -- the possibility of her being unnerved seems so unlikely, with her face and body so placid. As anyone would expect, the embodiment of silence doesn't socialize often. Instead, she merely stands to the side, watching with those unsettling, curious eyes. Of course, Celine does have words. ( if telepathy worked, she would run her mouth ). She could probably whip up dozens of possible remarks when watching people converse. So many things she could say if she ever had the nerve to do so. She gets asked the same question so many times; "Are you okay?",  when the only reason she doesn't talk is because she doesn't feel as if it's the right time to say anything. She always thinks it's too late or too early or too long or too short or some other excuse because she's too scared that she'll slip up. That she'll say something completely wrong and cause her to dwell on her embarrassment. And for that reason, she finds comfort in silence. 

Celine does her best to stay out of trouble. Not to make enemies. Not to start fights. To slip through places unnoticed, if she can. Let her siblings and half siblings do all the fighting because, personally, she doesn't really like conflict. She doesn't like death or pain or seemingly anything she was raised to like. ( the hunger games, career training, etc etc ) She'd probably be labeled as a nice girl if she were to open her mouth more often. In fact, there are a number of things that she'd be labeled if she were to talk more.

• Neat freak. That picture's crooked. You're getting dust all over the carpet. The pages of this book are folded. The pillow is off center. The two sand towers aren't the same size. Celine's fastidious to the point that it would annoy most people. She finds herself irritated by the simplest things, like an itch in her brain that just won't go away.
  
• Family lover. ( she wishes them all to have good dreams before she falls asleep every night. most likely, none of them will ever know she loves them. ) Even though the love is commonly not returned, it's always there. She's concerned for their safety more than they know. Even Mr. Roxen's children and the first children, who she seemingly is supposed to hate.
• Nerd. ( she reads lots of books; it helps her clear her mind ) 

another tear, another cry
another place for us to die
another life that's gone to waste
another light gone from your face
it's complicated



( h i s t o r y )

Birth

Family

Halfway ( seven )

Current

is it that it's over or do birds sing out for you?
float down, like autumn leaves
hush now, close your eyes before the sleep
and you're miles away
and yesterday, you were here with me



( o t h e r )

odair
autumn leaves; ed sheeran
jenna berman
--- words

oh how i miss you
my symphony plays the song
that carried you out
oh how i miss you
and i wish you stay