Post by packet ! ! ! on Jun 15, 2011 15:07:51 GMT -6
KAREN ANGELICO BELLE
[/color][/b][/font]i don't wanna live like i've already lived, but i do wanna get busy livin'
[/center]AGE[/color] seventeen. march eleventh
GENDER[/color] female
SEXUALITY[/color] heterosexual
MEMBER GROUP[/color] zhuqiaomon
DIGIMON[/color] lopmon ; guilmon ; kudamon ; palmon ; tentomon
CRESTS[/color]
reliability - despite having her problems, karen does her best to work through them and do as she's told.
hope - karen's whole life in the digital world is founded around the hope that she will be 'normal' someday.
sincerity - karen may not be able to do many things, but she can keep a promise if she needs to, and will give an honest opinion if she can voice herself.
PLAY-BY[/color] cirno of bullet hell
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SO THEN. TELL US WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE?
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Height: tall;; 5'8"
Weight: under- weight;; 117 lbs
Eye Color: aqua blue
Karen is made of angles. Her body is sharp and has few curves. Her arms and legs and fingers and toes are long and thin. Her body shape if flat, with only the most basic curves common in her gender. The shape of Karen’s face is round. Her eyes are slightly sunken into her face. Her mouth is flat and thin, and her nose is small and slightly upturned. Her skin is very pale. Karen’s flat hair is kept short, and in a cropped style that angles her face. It’s a neon aqua blue and is longer in the front than in the back. Karen’s eyes are the same color as her hair. They are big, soft, doe eyes that always seem to hold the slightest bit of sadness. Her mouth always seems to be curled into the faintest of frowns, as well.
Karen’s clothes are nothing frivolous or fancy, as it doesn’t really matter to her what she wears. She normally wears some type of white shirt. This shirt is layered under a bright red button- up jacket. The jacket has red lace on it and white fluff around the collar and the ends of the sleeves. With this, she wears a plain pair of washed out jeans and an old pair of white sneakers. She the only jewelry she wears is a blue, stretchy, beaded bracelet. She keep little to no make- up on, which make her pale skin seem washed out.
If Karen were to speak, it would be soft and slight. Her voice sounds breathy and sweet, but she hardly uses it, so most people wouldn’t know that. When in crowds or public places, Karen just keeps her head low and tries not to attract to much attention, which is hard for her to do. Any and all social situations are awkward for her, and usually become so for the other person after a few moments. She is always moving her hands in some way to try and keep them occupied.
OKAY, WHY DON'T YOU TELL US A LITTLE ABOUT YOUR FABULOUS SELF?
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Likes: music, chocolate, lavender, paper cranes, flowers, bells, silver, pillows, speakers, books, bracelets, glass figures, pictures, quiet, drawing, birdies, flying, wings, clouds,
Dislikes: people, thinking, gold, talking, dirt, loudness, heat, tears, people, honey, bumble bees, stinging, yellow, hives, wax, mindlessness, people, when her mind gets fixated on one thing, pitiful stares,
Karen has OCD. Sadly, this would have to be Karen’s defining trait. Her mind is always abuzz and atwitter with so many thoughts she can’t keep up. Her case is very severe, and she has trouble communicating with other people and understanding the way they communicate with her. She has so much going on at once and telling her what to do that it’s hard for her to stay focused on one thing for to long. This makes speaking almost impossiable for her because she will think of something to say, but by the time gets to the second syllable her mind will be somewhere else, and this will leaving her a stuttering mess.
The OCD also has another effect on Karen. It’s one that is widespread with the condition, but that doesn’t mean she likes it any more. Karen has odd little habits and ritual that she must do make her mind calm down some. Over they years they have been many and have ranged from obsessively twirling her hair to snapping her fingers constantly. Lately her things to is to flick the lowest button on her jacket six time with her right hand, then popping her left hand and elbow. It’s gotten to the point that she hardly knows she does it until people look at her funny. She has other, smaller, habits as well, like having to button and unbutton her nightgown seven times before she goes to bed, to make sure it’s on right, and opening and closing her closet door six times every morning to make sure it shuts. Time consuming and annoying, but she can’t help but do it less she be nervous and her thoughts wild.
Karen’s mind also gets ‘stuck’ sometimes. She will manage a thought, and it will keep circling and repeating in her head for hours on end. It feels worse than when people stare or she has to talk, because no matter how hard she tries, she can’t take her mind off of whatever it is she’s trapped on. When she gets like this, she just has to sit down until it goes away, because trying her control techniques doesn’t work. These spells can last from a few minutes to a few hours, but they don’t happen frequently, and for that she is glad.
Karen is unfeeling. Well, not so much ‘unfeeling’ as she is out of sync with her emotions. She has to fight so hard to control her body and mind that Karen doesn’t have a lot of time to dwell on how she feels. Worry is all the girl knows, with true happiness being a foreign concept. She doesn’t catch on to when people are joking or being sarcastic a lot of the time. Not because she’s stupid, but because she just can’t wrap her head around what they are; Her mind is black and white with no shades of gray whatsoever. In a way, Karen is almost like a robot. If asked a question she has to answer, her response, while not totally void of emotion, will be very flat and plain. She just doesn’t get that your voice can show your mood, and often misjudges how people are feeling because of this.
Karen is disillusioned. All Karen has ever known is pity and anger and cruelty. Her parents are at each others throats constantly, and she knows she’s not the miracle child they hoped would save their marriage. People, be it at school or at the grocery store, feel sorry for her. Karen doesn’t like that. She might have trouble with her head, but so what? She doesn’t like how they at like she’s a moron, or how the whisper to each other about how ‘grateful they are their kid isn’t like that’. Disgusting. Not everyone is like that though, but it’s not any better. The rest just pick on her and call her names. They degrade her with ‘retard’ and like phrases or throw things at her and talk about her. None of it is good.
After all, if her entire life has been this way, why have hope it will get any better?
Karen is an artist It may not be as effective or long lasting as stealing, but drawing has it’s own rewards. Since discovering the therapeutic act when she was little, Karen has drawn and colored so much that she’s a regular Picasso. Her drawings seem so real that they could leap off the page at any moment. Not only does art clear her head, but it also calms her down and relaxes her. She’s really proud of her talent, and hopes to keep refining her skills. Her ultimate dream is to have her paintings main attractions at famous museums. She hopes that in doing this, people won’t look at her like she’s something with a fragile mind, but as a person.
INTERESTING. AND WHAT ABOUT YOUR FAMILY LIFE?
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► Father;; Anthony Belle;; Librarian;; 47
► Mother;; Molly Anders- Belle;; Police Officer;; 45
► Siblings;; no
Karen's story starts as everyone's does: Not with her actual birth, but with the meeting of two people. Molly Anders was an officer fresh out of the Police Academy and was investigating a vandalism at the local library. It was there she met him. He wasn't tall dark and handsome, but he was cute, sweet, and a slight nerd. He had inherited his families’ job as a librarian, and it was him she had to speak with. As unorthodox and taboo as it was supposed to be a lady in her profession, Molly was quickly won over by Anthony Belle’s wit and charm. They rushed things and married four months after dating. They were happy, but didn't know each other as well as married couples should, so a little over two years into the marriage, it was a poor one.
Divorce would have been a good option, but a little bump was in the road: Molly was pregnant. Separating a child from one of its parents wasn’t something a ‘respectable’ policewoman did. Abortion was strongly talked about, but never seen through; sure enough, nine months and Karen was born. A period of peace was on the household for a short time, even if it only was livable hate. But…. Something was wrong. Three years into her life, and Karen’s parents were ready to disown her. Something was wrong with her, in her mind. She wasn’t developing or acting like normal children did. Her mind was warped in some way that might never be fixed; doctors didn’t know what exactly was wrong with Karen, but it was clear that Karen was Mentally Handicapped. Karen’s parents were mortified. As unhappy as life was in secret, they were supposed to give the appearance of a normal marriage with a normal child and a normal life. This is where Karen’s first memory came into play. Abortion was brought up once again, but the words were filled with venom.
She was three years, seven months and fifteen days old. It was hard, but sometimes she could quiet her charged mind long enough to color and draw- she liked drawing. She was in her nighty pajamas and it was almost time for bed. She had been to the doctor earlier, but she didn’t care; he hadn’t given her a shot, so it was alright. A picture of a Robin in her Flying Ace’s book was being turned purple and blue when she heard it: The yelling. It was mommy and daddy.
“I told you we should have done it Molly! But would you listen? No! And now look at what we have!” Something slammed and mommy yelled back and more slams and more yelling. Karen knew she should go see what was wrong, but she had to finish coloring the Robin’s wing. Her mind would calm down a little bit if she did. It was normally all jumbled up and made lots of noise, but sometimes it would be nice and she could think. But it only did that when she did things like it wanted her to.
Three years later, and it was time for Karen to start school. She was put in a special class in a special room with a special teacher for special people like her. But she didn’t know why she was so special. The teachers name was Mr. Sullivan, and he talked really slow and made them do easy things. He tried to read a book one day, but he read the words so slow that it made Karen mad. She knew she could read better and faster than him, but she had to finish doing her math work first. Mr. Sullivan had said to take a break while they read a story, but Karen knew her head would get cluttered and loud if she didn’t, so she ignored him. She was the only person in class who could do the math really good. She also knew how to write her name and could read books much thicker than what Mr. Sullivan read. She was smart.
Mr. Sullivan caught on that she was smart. One day he called the principle in, who called mommy and daddy. They talked for a long time, and the next day she was moved into a new class. This one wasn’t special, like the old class, but was ‘normal’. She wondered what she had done wrong to do down. The teacher of this room was Mrs. Lottie. Mrs. Lottie didn’t do things slow like Mr. Sullivan. She did things fast and Karen liked that, but she didn’t like when Mrs. Lottie wouldn’t let her quiet her head. It was even worse when Mrs. Lottie tried to get her to speak in front of the class. Karen’s head moved to fast and jumped around too much for her to keep up, so she would get all confused, and just wouldn’t say anything. This would get her in trouble with Mrs. Lottie.
Even when Karen was released from Mrs. Lottie’s grasp, things did not get better. It was during school that Karen learned the true cruelty of children. They teased her and taunted her and picked on her during breaks and recess. A lot of the time she would go inside crying with mud smeared on her face and in her hair and on her clothes, but when she was lucky or they finished bullying her early she would go to her Safe Place. Next to the playground and behind the school was a little hollowed out hole with lots of vines and a big bush growing in front of it. The hole was a mistake during construction of the school that had never been filled in, and had eventually been forgotten until nature took over. Karen had found the hole one day when her tormenters wanted to play ‘hide and seek’. Now every time she got the chance she would go there and stay so she could be safe and nurse her wounds.
It was while she was in her Safe Place that It happened to Karen. She had just turned eight and was wiping the grime from her tear streaked face. It was shady behind the bush, so she didn’t see the flashes of light, but she did hear the boom and the screams. It was loud like a sonic blast, and shortly after she heard her classmates cries of terror. She didn’t have a chance to run or see what it was. Vines wrapped around her tiny frame and pulled her from her Safe Place. A big, green plant monster, a Veggimon she would learn later, was clinging tightly to her. She opened her mouth to scream, but the wind was sucked out of her. Lights flashed in her eyes and it felt like her skin was being sucked off and she couldn’t breath and she was scared and she wanted to cry and…. It was over. And she met him, Zhuqiaomon. He calmed her tears and said he would protect her. He promised to make her head stop getting confused if she listened close to him and did what he said. And she wanted her head to work right, so she did do all that he told her to do. After all, he was a big birdie, and she loved birdies, so why would he lie to her?
So Karen has spent the last nine years being one of the loyal tools of the Lord of the South. It’s only every once in a while that she wonders about her past life. What happened to the other students at her school? Did anyone regret what they did to her, or are they happier that she is gone? Did her parents cry when they found out? Did they even care? But those moments aren’t very often and pass quickly, mostly because she is content with her new life. But just content. Not happy.
EXPRIENCE[/color] lets see..... i'm eighteen now so... about nine, ten years? doesn't mean i'm that great, though. xD
CONTACT[/color] pm would be the best way, but i also check the email i made this account with everyday, if you wanna use that. i'm pretty sure admins can see it, but if you can't tell me i'll pm it to you.
ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE[/color] okay, so, this is from another site i'm on with a character using the same name and play by. it's a pokemon site and she is in the lab getting her pokemon and junk. know that i since this a thread with an npc, i didn't put very much into it, but my average is about 200+ words more than this with another character.
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She vaguely realized that the person who opened the door, a girl about her age, had spoken. All she could do was stand there and stare at her, not sure she could make her mind make her mouth form the words. A minute too long, maybe, but she finally stepped inside, brushing past the girl. It was nice and hot inside, and Karen blew on her hands and rubbed them together in hopes of regaining some feeling.
Even so, Karen let herself be led by the girl to an area with seats. She didn't take in the area around her as she normally would; her mind was replaying ten seconds of a show she loved as a child, Flying Aces. It was about a Pidgey named Ace who did deliveries. In the episode she was repeating, Ace was carrying a load of Coffee Beans to a mean Gloom. But this girl she was with probably didn't care about that, so instead of vocalizing the dialog of the scene, Karen shook her head 'no'.
Karen sniffled and took a seat. She managed to take note of what the girl was saying this time, learning that her name was Lina and her granddad ran the Lab. Karen guessed she played the role as a helpful Aide or something similar, or maybe she was just special. Then she asked for Karen's name. Not a big deal, really, but she was already having trouble focusing her fuzzy thoughts, and she feared embarrassing herself. Her fingers clasped around her jacket's zipper, and she again zipped and unzipped it. Her tongue felt heavy, but she had to answer.
"Kah..... Reen....?" No, that wasn't right. She had to put the syllables together; pronounce then right at that. "... Ka.... Kou.... Kare..... erp.... Karen!" Her cheeks flamed red, but she had done. She manged to spit out her name.
//Words = 418 & I drabbled a bit in this post. xD[/size]
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