vem me tocar o som o som o som o som Silence of the sound
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name :: Follia [Ila, preferred] player :: Shoji [[swall0wtale]] position :: the Ringleader's daughter group :: Asile |
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Appearance. I don't ever recall seeing my mother in person. I grew up in a room with four walls that were different colours, in a caravan attatched to my father's. I had a quilt that my grandmother made for me (I don't think I look like her, but it's hard to tell, sometimes) and a song was always in my head-- I don't know where it came from, but it went something like... C'est un mot qu'on dirait inventé pour elle Quand elle danse et qu'elle met son corps à jour, tel Un oiseau qui étend ses ailes pour s'envoler So, I think someone, at some point, thought that I was very beautiful. It's a nice thought, but I don't really think it's very true-- I think the only time I'm truly beautiful is when I'm doing what I'm best at-- balancing on my hands. There are many types of beauty in the world. Flawed beauty, like that of the people I live my life with. Natural beauty, like the way the world looked before it turned into a wasteland. And beauty in perfection-- beauty in perfect balance, strength, and grace. I like to think that I'm open to all sorts of beauty, and I'm discovering more of it, everyday. My father always said I looked like her-- my mother, that is. I don't really know, since the only things I remember seeing of her were beautiful posters from circus promotions across the badlands-- when Asile was still whole. The Great Ciro, as graceful as a leaf on the air, a hawk in the wind, trapeze artist extraordinaire. I don't think I'm much like her, at all. For starters, I can't fly. My father says I'm not built for it; that I'm built to be grounded, like him. Secondly, I'd never name my daughter Mistake. I'm only 5'4" and I weigh about average, even if I look thinner than I should. My grandmother says my measurements are perfect. I'm nineteen years old and I've never had a lover, because there's no one of my species of beauty to fall in love with. I think I'm in solitary. |
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I was born when times were good. But I don't really remember anything, from those days when Asile was whole. My first memory was of my father telling me about my mother-- about how beautifully she flew and how he had only ever had one with for her: that she would never fall. I think it was that day, also, when I was four, that I started training. The training was hard, yes, but I think deep down, I wanted it. To be like her. To be better than her. To prove to someone that I wasn't a mistake, even though I knew she'd never really care. Growing up in a freakshow, you never take a mistake for granted. I I should've gone with her-- them. L'ombra. I don't belong here. But, all in all, I'd rather be here, where I'm loved as an outsider, rather than there, where I'll never ever be good enough. My father says I should meet my mother, someday, but I don't think it's a good idea. I may not like her, but I still wouldn't want to prove an elder, my mother, so wrong. I am not a mistake. |
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Activities.
Practice. Practice. Practice. Bathing~ ♥ Socialization. Performing.
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Ideals/Motivations. I think I just want someone to be proud of me.
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Attitude. |
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