by Offended Cockatiel » Thu Jun 25, 2015 7:00 am
Roses room
Username: Byteme
Doll Name: Thorn
Shadow Name: Cassius
Relationship: "The tides of this relationship crash back and forth, but rarely touch, they do not connect. For who I am bound to, indebted to, supposed to love I do regret ever meeting."
Personality(s): Thorn is the type of individual who runs, runs from problems, runs from pain, and if there is no running that can be done in a situation then Thorn is left trapped and finicky. Her decisions are made on a pinprick of a moment, and with little capability when left with trying to hold her up. She is somewhat regretful of many things, her story's tracked over with mud and bad little memories rather left forgotten. Although, Thorn really has little control over such things, accordant with any situation, her own mind warps and becomes exhausted and befuddled in mere seconds. So... At most, Thorn is left with running, trying to reach safety. When running can't be chosen she exhausts few other options before jumping into a fighting stance. Thorn has a tendency to crash into things, literally, metaphorically, any way she can. Her capacity for thinking is a bit stunted, and falls short of crumbling under the strength of her other skills, albeit some are barely larger than her thinking capabilities. She has a crippling sense of malaise in many situations, but she does well with hiding it, masked behind half-laden smirks, a judging green gaze and a willingness to fight in her voice that makes you doubt her ever pondering about running.
Extras:
Fingers pressing as much as they could onto the glass and shuddering under the pressure, she looked out past what she could barely remember, all that she used to know. Oh, to be trapped in the largest grave one could create, it brought out the worst of her claustrophobic tendencies, she could feel her hand shaking nonstop, and the ever incandescent way the heels of her shoes cut into the ground. It made her hopeless and yet hopeful, every other day, though in no beautiful way. teetering back and forth, between smashing herself against the unyielding, never breaking glass, and standing there oscillating with the pure and retributive thought that she would never touch the other side again. It was enough to make anyone uncomfortable with the air surrounding them.
-- second guessing she lifted her head