Name: Crissan Kari Mae
Nicknames: Casey, Cass, Chris, C, Cay, and Mae
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Strait
Single; no past sexual activity.Age: Twenty-seven
Birthplace: Salt Lake City, Utah
Birthday: November third.
Signs: Scorpio, Year of the ox
Blood type: B
Ethnicity: American
Height: 5’3”
Weight: 148 lbs
Build: Thin, medium-small breasts, Toned but not muscular.
Medical Information: She takes Apri-brand Birth control pills to maintain menstrual regularity. She coasters with anemicy. The anemicy is due to menstrual complications and is being maintained via the birth control pills. She suffers from mild hay-fever which will require a constant source of allergy medications, and she his sevearly allergic to shellfish. She is a hypocondriac and before going on the trip she was prescribed Xantax.
Appearance: Although she is Mormon, she doesn’t follow the dress code heavily. She wears sleeve-less shirts and the occasional bare mid-drift. Her wardrobe consists of a lot of natural colors, especially greens and browns. She also wears a lot of dark-clothing. She usually adorns tight jeans or loose capris. Close-toed shoes is a don’t, and seeing her in them is next to never. As far as accessories go, she loves to wear bicep-bands and large earrings. Her left ear is pierced twice. She loves to wear tattered looking biker-gloves. She also wears a black cat-collar choker with a fake red gem imbedded in spiked tarnished silver dangling from a loop.
Her posture is good. Her largest flaw in posture is her feet. She walks with her toes pointed slightly in, and she walks with a slight limp.
Complexion: She’s paler than most, one thing she inherited from her father. She sunburns instead of tans. Her shoulders, as well as running from cheek to cheek across the bridge of her nose, are lightly dappled in freckles. She doesn’t wear lots of makeup, only eye liner/shadow and mascara, for she is easily prone to acne.
Hair Color: Strawberry blonde; Light blonde highlights.
Hair Style: Brest length, Slight natural curl. Seeing her hair down is uncommon.
Eye Color: Brown. She sometimes wears gold-colored cat-eye contacts.
---Tidbits-[Likes/dislikes/etc. under re-construction!]Mental analysis: [Under re-construction]Casey is kind-hearted and considerate. She puts others feelings into consideration before she acts. She cares about others well-beings. This does not, however, put her into the helpless whelp position. She will not take any bull from people, and she won’t let them trample on her. She will stay strong in her standards and moral beliefs. She will act upon what she feels is right.
She hates awkward silence, and moments where strong negative emotions cling to the air. She will usually try to lighten the mood. She is one who would accept and show friendship to the new person, and who would invite the kid with no friends to eat lunch with her.
She is fun-loving and free-spirited. She loves to joke around in a friendly manner, and hanging around with friends. She is enthusiastic and sometimes a little spastic.
She follows Mormon morals and conducts, but is rather loose on dress standards. She is still a virgin. She doesn’t care about social differences, whether it be color, religion or sexuality. She is a animal lover and environmentalist.
Casey is susceptible to anxiety attacks, and she is mildly high-strung. She does not take to medicines, especially foreign ones, kindly. She may also be susceptible to bouts of mental depression. Depression spurts usually only last a week and are carried out by deep thinking, quiet and standoffish behavior.
She is anti-social when pmsing, a type ‘A’. She is snappy, rude, grouchy and bitchy during this time. She suffers horrible cramps and she’s rather emotional. She has mood swings commonly.
She is rather disorganized. Her focus is more on the arts. She loves the field of arts and she dapples frequently into several mediums. She especially enjoys graphic design, her number one forte. She is also a thriving musician and she feels that that too is an important part of her life.
She has the horrible habit of vandalizing her personal space. You’ll find that once she gets settled in the walls of her duplex will be covered in drawings, sketches and murals. (Not a good thing for poor Newt. =3)
History: [Undergoing slight re-construction]I had lived an average live up until recently. I was born to two non-religious middle-class parents, in a good sized house with my brother Kyle and my sister Leanne. We always had food on the table and friends at the door.
My brother Kyle was just like most big brothers. He was a basketball-jock and a video-game addict. He liked to tease me… a lot. My sister Leanne was quite the opposite. She was perfect in my opinion. She was beautiful, sophisticated, friendly and well organized. She was mom and dad’s pride and joy.
When I was fourteen years old Leanne and I joined the Mormon Church against our family’s will. My parents scorned this decision. My father transferred to California in the bizarre notion to rid of us this ‘influence’. In California I had no close friends outside of school. I became inactive, attending activities rarely once a month.
My sister Leanne stayed strong. She married a RM the following winter, and moved in the spring. It was just me, Kyle and my parents. My parents were still upset about my conversion. Kyle grew increasingly bothersome. I spent a lot of time away from home. Our once tight-knit family relation had died.
Now eighteen, I once again defied my parent’s wishes, this time by enrolling in a academy for the arts. It was school for rich-kids just across town. This started before my obsession with the arts had begun. I was sent to the school for a week trial run mid-October. During that trial run I played around with the mediums and found I enjoyed doing it.
It was my escape from life. A thing I could do to relive myself of stresses and emotions without society scorning me for my behavior. I became increasingly fascinated with the subject. With the help of my boyfriend, Guy, and financial aid I was able to pay for a years schooling.
I broke up with guy mid-term my first semester. We didn't have anything in common and we came to realize the relationship was forced. Lucky for me he didn’t demand his money back. It was during my first 3-d arts class that I met Zane. He seemed like a friendly guy. We got to know each other and eventually things blossomed into a healthy relationship.
Eventually I became so fed up with my dysfunctional family that I decided to move. From the large frivolity of my room to a dorm with cramped living space. Coincidence be, I ended up roommates with Zane’s sister. We became good friends, and through this friendship I, in turn, got to know more about the boy I loved.
I received a small scholarship but now I was living on borrowed money. It was the typical, ‘starving artist dorm student’ scenario. I took whatever art job I could in addition to McDonald paychecks. Meals were never spectacular. Ramen was one of the more popular items on the menu. I was hired for murals on occasion, and I also did graphic commissions.
I was twenty-one when my biggest break occurred. I was taking a break fall semester in hopes of working to pay off my debt. It had arrived in the mail several days later. A man had seen my job application online and had been impressed with my current Mona Lisa. I had recently painted a beautiful mural of an anthropomorphic cat-woman on the wall in the mall. He had built a huge dance-club on the east cost, and he wanted me to paint murals inside. He offered to buy the housing.
The project would take a months and the salary was too good to resist… I of course jumped at the opportunity. I scrapped together as much money as I could and packed my bags. Zane agreed to watch Sammy, my basset hound, while I was away.
The job turned out well. Other than bad air things seemed to be alright. I was half-way through when I took a spill. I was on a ladder, painting a disco ball on the mural, when I lost balance. The ladder tipped over as well as me and my paints. I smacked my head on the wall on my way down, cracking open the frail skin back by my left ear. I was brutally forced into the black abyss of my mind, my conscious leaving me for the duration of two days.
My boss came in with me passed out in a puddle of blood. He sent for help immediately. I awoke two days later in a hospital. Confused, I did not hesitate to ask questions. Where was I? What happened? A nurse came, and desperately tried to calm me down. She quickly explained what had happened. Moaning, I gently touched the back of my head and ran my fingers along the stitches, then examined the splint on my right hand with another groan.
I left the same day and went to my hotel to rest. Boss said I was ‘punished to bed rest until I got better’. There were some orders I was more than ready to obey. I was awoken suddenly by the sharp, painful ringing of the hotel phone. It was the nurse. They said after further examinations of my x-rays, I might have suffered some brain damage. They wanted to get a second opinion of my status. They wanted to transfer me to a hospital down south where I could receive medical attention from a professional in the field. Rather than die, I agreed to the offer with high hopes leading my decisions.
