In any case, I'm proud of this character design; just another chickie to be placed back on the shelf for future reference. Hopefully I'll get to play with her someday.
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RP: Performance (denied)
It's gonna be a long way to happy.
ii SW3AR iiT CAM3 0FF A C3R3AL B0X
Ellen Yukiko Kudo
BUT THiiS CAM3 FR0M MY LAB3L
Elle, Yuki, Yuu
TH3Y PUSH3D MY FAC3 iiNT0 TH3 CAK3 3V3RY TiiM3
Nineteen
STAND UP vs. SiiT D0WN
Female. That much I’m sure of.
&& ii SWiiNG WiiTH TH3
...Both? Does it matter?
J33BUS! PMS MUCH?
To get the obvious out of the way: I don’t like to talk. Out loud, at least. I talk to myself all the time, in my head. Going over what should be said, what could have been said...it sounds a little weird when I say it like that, but I am weird. I won’t bother denying it. I internalize a lot of my feelings, because I never really learned how to communicate them properly. But because I internalize so much, it makes me have bad dreams and anxiety issues. So I usually avoid people. It’s not that I don’t like them, it’s just that I don’t know how to deal. And when I do speak with people, I get nervous and never talk loud enough. It takes a lot of patience to get to know me.
Another obvious statement: I love music. Music has always been around me; it’s my anti-drug. Just listening to it calms me down; I often apply different songs to different people, different situations. Life began to take on a soundtrack early in my life and that’s how I dealt with it. That branched out when I started singing, and writing my own songs. Catch me after singing, and you might be surprised. I hear I’m completely different than normal; happier, more open, more human.
I’m a passive character; I don’t get mad. Not visibly, anyways. I’ve been reading some psychology books, though, and I’m worried that if I’m ever pushed to a certain point, everything I’ve kept in could come pouring out in unpredictable ways. The thought really scares me.
I think I’ve been getting better, though. I don’t have as many reasons to keep things in. I don’t feel the need to hide as much anymore. Proof that miracles can happen, I suppose.[color]
[color=darkred]MY S0B ST0RY
I was born in Tokyo. My father was a successful architect who was transferred overseas. Eventually he brought my mother and I over; I was five. My mother, who had been a secretary, became a stay-at-home mom, and I thought, with my five-years of naïveté, that everything was going great...until I started school. I was “that kid”, the one who never fit in. It seemed like I could never change to be just right. First they teased me because I couldn’t speak English. Then because I had a funny accent. Then because I didn’t talk at all. And that’s been my state of being since.
My parents were, of course, concerned about my silence. They sent me to a psychiatrist, but when I wouldn’t talk to her either they thought that boarding school was the best place to send me. Which was also okay, for a little while. Then the fights started. Apparently constant silence equals saying a constant “******** you” to the stuck-up rich girls who infested the private school I went to for my junior high years. My parents only pulled me out after I got a broken wrist. I never fought back; it all seemed so pointless. So for high school, I was back in the public school system, my self-esteem minimal and my only friend my discman. Like I said; I’ve always loved music. My mother never turned off the radio when she was at home. I would spend all of my allowance on CDs. If I couldn’t have music playing, for whatever reason, I would sing. I was good at it. I loved doing it. It was the only time I didn’t mind drawing attention to myself.
A few weeks after I graduated my parents started fighting. That was when I started singing on street corners; I didn’t want to go home and listen to the screaming. My father, who had been back to Japan on business trips, had been having an affair with an old friend of the family’s. My mother was crushed. Eventually my dad went back to Japan and stayed there. My mother, unable to get a secretarial job because she wasn’t school in America, managed to get a job as a waitress. She became more and more depressed, and started drinking. I, of course, never said a word. One night, she hit me. Once.
I stuffed as many CDs and clothing I could in one bag, and, carrying that in one hand and my ancient stereo in the other, I left. Probably the most reckless, crazy thing I have ever done. And maybe one of the first right things I’ve done. I was able to scrap together enough money from singing on street corners in a day to feed myself. Like I said, I can draw attention to myself if I want. That was how Leeanne found me. And she brought me to this amazing place, filled with amazing, talented people who had the patience to get to know me. I have friends now.
But lately I’ve been feeling a little weird around one of my “older brothers”. I think I like him. More than I should. I mean, friends aren’t supposed to fall for friends...right?
GiiMM3!
• MUSIC
• Singing
• Summertime
• Staying up late
• Sleeping in
• Wearing comfortable clothing
• Bubble baths
• Sweets
• Reading
• Writing (poetry, songs, etc)
• Most animals
• Musical instruments
• Concerts
• Horror movies
H3LL N0!
• Lack of music playing
• smoking
• drinking
• spiders
• getting sick
• violence
• rich people
• most vegetables
• Sarcasm
• Racism
• Bad dreams
• Losing control
• People who cannot sing and think they can
• people who think they’re better than everyone else
3AR S3X
• Nickelback
• Evanescence
• P!NK
• Linkin Park
• 3 Days Grace
• The All-American Rejects
• Foo Fighters
• Avril Lavigne
• Christina Aguilera
• Kelly Clarkson
• Michelle Branch
• Nelly Furtado
• Skillet
• Skye Sweetnam
• Tegan & Sara
• Within Temptation
• Papa Roach
• Sick Puppies
• RENT
• Ayumi Hamasaki
• Kumi Koda
• Namie Amuro
• Anna Tsuchiya
• HIGH and MIGHTY COLOR
• Hikaru Utada
• Gackt
• BoA
• Etc, etc...
ii S0LD MY H3ART F0R A PACK 0F CiiGAR3TT3S
The Three-card Monte Scammer
ii KN0W TH3 B00K SAYS ii'M
The Singer
(( I did not come up with the profile skeleton; pictures are all © to blackmage9 of deviantart. ))
