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Personality

Her feelings are out of control.

Raxa's moods run hot and cold, fast and slow, ranging from pure anger to deep-seated depression, hence her dissheveled look. Some tend to think that her emotional state changes as quickly as her bodily fluids are recycled. Not even she knows what mood will come next, but her most contant mood seems to be a mixture of insanity and paranoia. This frustrates her - her inability to control what mood and what thoughts come next. These frustrations keep her up at night at times, tearing apart her room in a tantrum.

She likes to touch people when she speaks to them, though she does not understand why some people find that creepy. Looking like an escaped mental patient contributes to the fact that people tend to avoid her (and thus gives her reason to think they're part of some massive conspiracy to have her killed or something.)

Raxa tends to smile a lot with a strange gleem in her eye, but her driving force is her need to understand why she works the way she does. She strives to know why she cannot control herself, why she is such a mess, and why people avoid her because of it. In times of mental clarity, these thoughts reign supreme, and these brief respites from her insanity are breathes of fresh air for a troubled mind.

CONTEST ENTRY



Prompts you can use...
2. A spirit you've lived with nearly your entire life has recently become much more noticeable. How is the spirit effecting your life and why is it more aggressively trying to have an effect on your life?


The sun peeked through the half-shut curtains, gray eyes of the sleeper within blinking in irritation. Luciel shoved her head under her pillow in hopes of drowning out the cursed sunlight (who gets up at this godly hour anyway?), but to no avail. The whole room practically glowed with warmth and light. Growling her unhappiness to herself, Luciel dragged herself out of bed, pulling at the side of the mattress. She scooted along relatively well until she hit a bundle in the bedding and promptly…

…plummeted to the floor.

"Oh for the love of all things!" she cursed. Today was a terrible day so far, and it had hardly started at all! Sighing, she stood up and brushed herself off, horns getting tangled with hair and, oh, it was such a mess. Blonde hair clung to her face as the woman tried to shake off a bit of the blanket that clung to her ankle like a desperate ex-lover. Shake, shake, shake went the foot and the blanket still stuck. Trying to swat the hair away and shake her leg, a sudden burst of color danced across her vision. All activity was put to a sudden stop as she looked up, perception muddled. A very light breeze, almost like a tickle, brushed across the bridge of her nose. She scratched furiously at it, annoyed and perplexed, when another breeze and burst of color fluttered near her chin.

"EEEE!" screeched the woman, flying back into the lump of blanket and pillow. Her footing lost and caught within the evil grasp of the corner of the blanket, Luciel oozed into the pile again. At first, she thought it was just some strange sleep-induced hallucination. Okay, me, lay off the drugs. This isn't good for us. she though with disdain. Though she'd never taken anything of the sort, the flashes and tickles she'd gotten for most of her life were pretty much unexplainable. Who else would see visions of a pale green with spots?

With a frustrated huff, she decided that whatever it was, it was going to get a thorough beating for disrupting such a good Saturday! Sitting up in a blur and grabbing a pillow, Luciel was about to pummel anything that even twitched the wrong way, but was instead met by the thing that was haunting her - a butterfly.

Or what looked like a butterfly, anyway. It was very small, fragile like stained glass, sitting on the nightstand and basking in the sunlight. It wasn't ugly, per se, but it wasn't the magnificent beauty one would attribute to something like the monarch. But still, it had a quiet air about it, wings slowing touching at the tips and fanning out to keep itself at a comfortable temperature. Temptation was a devil, and a hand reached out to barely brush those ugly, yet beautiful, wings.

It flittered and turned around, revealing a little boy, a disappointed frown on his face. He shook his head as if to politely say, Oh please don't touch me. Luciel stared in awe, the butterfly boy's face slowly transforming from sorrow to joy. His eyes held a glimmer his wings did not carry and Luciel could not resist the infectious urge to smile with him. Reaching out with a single finger, she wanted to touch him, to see if he were real.

A single ruffle of the curtains drew her attention away, and when she looked back, the butterfly boys was gone.

"Drugs. Must lay off the drugs."

Reserved

Reserved