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user : neondisaster
name : - felicia -
gender : female
playlist
themes used
- anger -
- dreams -
- learning -
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user : neondisaster
name : - felicia -
gender : female
playlist
themes used
- anger -
- dreams -
- learning -
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx;
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lil' fighter
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lil' fighter
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Her fur is red, her hair is red, and when something doesn’t go her way her vision is too. She
knows it’s not the others fault- logically. But her feelings are illogical, and she hates it. So
she storms off, stewing in silence. It’s not fair that others get to have these things- that
the other kits go home to open smiles and open hearts and she doesn’t even know the
names of her parents.
She thinks about it, sometimes. What sort of vacations they’d take her on. What sort of
things they’d do together. In her mind, her parents loved to read (one of her favorite
things) and they would read her stories aloud. They’d take her to visit the places they’d
explored in books, giving life to things only painted in words.
She could almost sense these dreams, with how badly she wanted it. She could feel the
comforting brush of fur against hers- she’d like to think they’d be proud.
But even she knew they wouldn’t be proud of how she reacted sometimes. When she
couldn’t help but to leap into action, defensive in words and hot in temper. Even her
teachers noticed too sometimes. Her favorite teacher, her literature teacher. She took
her aside and gave her a certain book. Where the protagonist was just like her, where
she struggled with anger and overcame it. Somehow, when her teacher talked to her
about the book, what it meant to more, she felt it was worth more than all those classes.
And when her teacher recommended she talk to someone about her temper, her vision
didn’t redden. It was different, when you knew it was someone who cared for you. Who
didn’t just want to make fun of her temper, who wanted to help.
It was hard at first- to separate her temper from her actions. But knowing that someone
cared enough to even offer help was a strong motivation. She didn’t want to disappoint
her teacher.
(was this what a parent is like?)
And though it never went away, it was manageable now. Red was just another color, rather
than a feeling or a weight on her back.
She could still be red, but she could be every other color too.
knows it’s not the others fault- logically. But her feelings are illogical, and she hates it. So
she storms off, stewing in silence. It’s not fair that others get to have these things- that
the other kits go home to open smiles and open hearts and she doesn’t even know the
names of her parents.
She thinks about it, sometimes. What sort of vacations they’d take her on. What sort of
things they’d do together. In her mind, her parents loved to read (one of her favorite
things) and they would read her stories aloud. They’d take her to visit the places they’d
explored in books, giving life to things only painted in words.
She could almost sense these dreams, with how badly she wanted it. She could feel the
comforting brush of fur against hers- she’d like to think they’d be proud.
But even she knew they wouldn’t be proud of how she reacted sometimes. When she
couldn’t help but to leap into action, defensive in words and hot in temper. Even her
teachers noticed too sometimes. Her favorite teacher, her literature teacher. She took
her aside and gave her a certain book. Where the protagonist was just like her, where
she struggled with anger and overcame it. Somehow, when her teacher talked to her
about the book, what it meant to more, she felt it was worth more than all those classes.
And when her teacher recommended she talk to someone about her temper, her vision
didn’t redden. It was different, when you knew it was someone who cared for you. Who
didn’t just want to make fun of her temper, who wanted to help.
It was hard at first- to separate her temper from her actions. But knowing that someone
cared enough to even offer help was a strong motivation. She didn’t want to disappoint
her teacher.
(was this what a parent is like?)
And though it never went away, it was manageable now. Red was just another color, rather
than a feeling or a weight on her back.
She could still be red, but she could be every other color too.
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but wait, there's more
- what's in a name?
Felicia - the meaning of it is ‘happy’. she sometimes wonders about name meanings. After all, authors name their characters with a purpose. Names have meanings in stories, and names even have power. So what does her name mean to her?
She can’t ask. If it was just because her parents liked the sound, or if maybe she’d had a distant relative with the name, or even if she was named after a favorite character. She can’t ask if she was named with a goal in mind- that happiness was what they’d wanted for her.
Now that she’s grown, she likes to use it as an opening statement. “Felicia” she says, a smile crossing her face, “I’d like to think I’m happy enough to live up to it.”
Since she can’t ask, she’s decided that she gets to choose the meaning for herself. Choice- decision making- it’s a little scary at times, but she enjoys it. She’s decided that it’s all of those things. It’s a goal for her to strive for - to be happy, and she understands enough that it doesn’t mean she has to be happy all the time. And it is the name of a character. She’s not quite a dreamer, always lost in the clouds, but she does love metaphor and literature - she likes to think of herself as Felicia, the main character in her own story.
And it is a very pretty name.
---
and what of the future?
As a kit routinely in detention for fighting, she supposed it was almost her own fate to have more of an interest in it. Fighting, to most people, was never seen as productive. Felicia had been that way at first too. She knew it was bad- it was uncontrolled, just like all her feelings, boiling over.
She’d gotten into fewer fights as she’d grown, both in control of her temper and in age. But there was something still, that led her both to answering taunts with her own paws, or even responding to a shove with something more aggressive. So she’d decided to try something she’d read about. In a pamphlet more than one of her books, but read all the same.
Fighting as a sport, fighting as more than a quick way to release anger or show her hurt.
She’d tried it, going to lessens. Once a week at first, and then more and more often.
And it was there she fell in love.
There was something about the sport of it all, the sort of exertion and the reward of at all. Coming away from a fight to cheers and praise, the sort of tiredness of body that came from hard work. And maybe it was a little selfish (but she deserved to be a little selfish, didn’t everyone?) but after her first match- the way people cheered for her, and just her, led to an emotion she couldn’t describe, not even in colors.
--
hobbies and interests
She had many interests. Trying new things, was in itself, a hobby of hers. “At least once”, she’d say, eyeing a new dish respectively, before quickly taking a bite. Some of the things she tried didn’t last very long. Going to the freely offered dance lessons had barely lasted a week.
Writing, however, stuck with her.
It had been writing that had helped her move from angry and lost in it to angry and using it towards productive things. She felt it was her responsibility to give back, almost. If she could even help one person, like how she had been helped, then she’d consider it a success. So she wrote short little journals, posting them online. Sharing her experiences with whoever would stumble across it.
It was cathartic, just like talking to someone had been.
She wrote about how she still struggled with anger, because it was something she’d live with forever, and she accepted it. But a bad temper didn’t make a bad person. She wrote about what helped and what didn’t; she wrote about the days it was worse and consuming, when her mood plummeted for no reason at all.
Maybe her writing wasn’t all that good, or maybe it wasn’t all that bad - regardless of what it was like, the most important thing was what it was- something for herself.
She could have kept it to herself, but she wanted to share. She wanted to help.
And she wrote about all her other experiences, the ones with trying new things or visiting a new place, because she wanted to entertain, too.
Gabite "Grrran" ♂ lvl 62
Torterra "Terrie" ♂ lvl 58
Luxray "Lulu" ♂ lvl 54
Bronzong "Bronzong" ♀ lvl 48
Azumarill "Ann Mari" ♂ lvl 49
Crobat "Crown" ♀ lvl 26
