[Face claim Taylor Momsen]
"Yes, I'm small and cute and blond, but I swear I'm no porcelain doll, just you wait."
"I sort of kind of have some anger issues sometimes.."
"I am a diagnosed pyromaniac."
"I get depressed sometimes, but burning things makes me feel better."
Ragdoll's colors are dark red, red, and orange. Her symbol is a howling coyote in front of a red circle.
My name is Jessica Fowler (no middle initial, because of an old family tradition), but I am known as Ragdoll Red..
I grew up in the outskirts of Battery City in a small house on a few acres. I didn't have many friends, but I had befriended and orphan coyote pup. I had a lot of free time, since my parents didn't believe in public school. (I don't blame them, the schools in my area were nearly useless anyway). I was home schooled, I would read my schoolbooks but it's not like they consumed all my time, so I got bored. Like most creative children, that boredom combined with free time led way to some experimentation.
Since I lived on a portion of land, I wold wander around the dry terrain looking for something to amuse myself, along with the pup I had named Cleo, after the ancient egyptian princess - although Cleo was neither Egyptian or a princess, I loved history so that was her name.
I tried teaching my Cleo tricks, but I got tired of that quickly. I tried doing other things, too, but nothing captivated my attention like fire did. There were lots of dry things where I lived, like sagebrush and tumbleweeds. Those things were easy to set on fire. Soon I became fascinated with fire, and then when I was ten I would build my own explosives and setting them off in empty lots of land. My parents didn't really approve of this, but they were gone most of the day so it didn't really matter to me. I was a pyromaniac at heart, and didn't want to stop. My parents were always secretive, not wanting to involve me in their work. I didn't ask too many questions - I had long since learned that questions were useless, as that I'd always get lies for answers. Instead I would eavesdrop when I wouldn't think she was listening. I learned that they spent hours on end talking about a group called the 'killjoys'. I wasn't sure who these 'killjoys' were, but I was dying to find out. I knew I'd get nowhere with my parents, though. When I was twelve my parents died in a car accident on the road home, they had collided in a head-on crash with a drunk driver who had swerved out of his lane. My aunt had come to live with me since the farm was paid off, her expensive house in the city wasn't, and I needed a guardian. My aunt was a very proper woman. Loyal BLI employee and also cat person. She freaked when she found out about Cleo, my pet coyote, and made me drive her off (Which I really only said I had done, while hiding her out by a pond and in my room). She had never met me befor, and had jumped to conclusions based on my appearance. I'm short, blond, and innocent looking. I even have a high pitched voice. She assumed I was as innocent as I looked. I quickly proved her wrong. I was grief-stricken, of course, but I was also curious, and rebellious. My parents had died without ever telling me who the killjoys were, and of course my aunt treated it as a taboo subject. I had realized my parents had kept me home for more than just education. So one day when my aunt was out, I took Cleo and we wandered down to the city, and I asked around about the killjoys, and my parents. I learned a lot. I realized how much my parents had been hiding from me, and although I felt betrayed, I understood they did it for my protection. I still didn't know everything though, and planned on returning to Battery City for more information later. When I got back home though, my Aunt was waiting for me, livid. She demanded to know where I was, and since I didn't tell her, she locked my inside my room. It bordered on cruelty the amount of times she'd done it, but I became a skilled escape artist, and got out anyway. It was long walk to battery city, but I made the trek almost weekly. I loved seeing people and sights, it was so unlike home. It was so unlike my aunt.
When I was thirteen I started wearing makeup, and I got into the whole panda eye thing. My aunt hated it, and that was all I needed. It made me look tougher than usual, and that was something in itself.
My aunt and I constantly fought, about every little thing and them some. Petty fights, big fights, all of it. I felt like she only stayed with me for the land, and she felt I hated her, so naturally there was a lot of animosity between us. Anyway it had been building up for years between us, and the last straw was when I had accidentally set her favorite dress on fire when I was playing with a lighter. I had always wanted to run away but I never had anywhere to go. When I was seventeen I learned that the Killjoys were taking apprentices. Naturally, this was the perfect opportunity. I packed my few things, and left to the Diner. I assumed a new name and hoped for a new start.
