Post by alice on May 2, 2011 16:26:26 GMT -5
LACIE KAREN DAY
FULL NAME: Lacie Karen Day
NICK NAME: Lace
AGE: 25
GRADE OR OCCUPATION: Clerk at Tweed's Sweet Shop
ORIENTATION: Curious
FACE CLAIM: Teresa Palmer
EYE COLOR: Blue
HAIR COLOR: Blond
HEIGHT AND WEIGHT: 5'6" and 120 lbs
DESCRIPTION: Lacie has a fairly average look about her: long blond hair with a bit of a curl, blue eyes, definitely less than perfect skin. She thinks her ears are a bit funny but that doesn't stop her from wearing her hair up if she wants to. After all, it does get hot and muggy in the Maine summer and she needs to keep all that thick hair off the back of her neck. Her sense of style is a little bit of everything and anything; she often wears just jeans and a tee shirt or something fancier or more bizarre if she's feeling like putting effort into her appearance. Lacie is of normal height and weight for her age and though usually nonathletic, she doesn't mind some physical exertion now and again.
PERSONALITY: Lacie always has to learn things the hard way. She's a wondering, curious sort of girl who will get to the bottom of things no matter how long it takes her--it's just that it usually does take her a long time. She's not particularly brilliant but she loves to learn, even if the information gained isn't retained for very long. But as she's prone to go trying new things without, necessarily, knowing what she's getting herself into, Lacie has found herself in more than one awkward, uncomfortable, or even dangerous situation.
Because of her curiosity, Lacie has a big personality. She can usually fall in with any crowd, good or bad, as her spectacularly short attention span and need to experience new things keeps her moving from person to person. She's gathered a large circle of friends in town because of this, but no one is yet particularly close to her, as she doesn't really put in the time or effort to keep a best friend. Well. There's perhaps one person she's close to, with a sometimes-personality that far and away outdoes her own, and even then she wonders how he's managed to stick around so long.
Lacie is not spectacularly gifted at any one thing, and considers herself more of a jack of all trades. Her energetic mind keeps her exploring--whether it's learning to tie a tie, dying her hair, trying to speak Greek, experimenting with drugs, or finding out what makes too-serious Derek laugh. A bit vacuous, perhaps, but Lacie does occasionally try to focus on the task at hand--she isn't a complete airhead. Her ways of focusing and finishing tasks, though, are a bit roundabout and and out of the way, much to the aggravation of her boss, her friends, and her family. She isn't efficient by any stretch of the imagination, and Lacie has imagination enough for the whole town.
Lacie is loud and generally animated, but she's not impolite. Lacie's manners are ingrained into her very soul from the way her parents raised her, so it isn't as if she's barbaric. She may, however, choose to forgo the delicate pleasantries to get straight to the point more often than her parents would like, but at this age, she's not exactly going to worry about it. Lacie is great at both giving and receiving advice, but whether she follows it or not it mostly up to chance, fancy, and her whims at the moment.
HOMETOWN: Oxford, Massachusetts
FAMILY MEMBERS: Her father, Henry
Her mother, Lorina
Her older sister, Elsie
Her younger sister, Tillie
HISTORY: Lacie was born the second of three children to Henry and Lorina of Oxford, Massachusetts. She was a tiresome baby: always crawling about where she wasn't supposed to, getting herself lost, playing with things that weren't toys. Her mother and father found her absolutely exhausting as a toddler and child, and couldn't wait for her to grow up and calm down. The only problem was that no matter how old Lacie got, she didn't necessarily mature.
Her school days were hectic and filled with little actual work. Lacie preferred to spend the lighted hours day dreaming and explore the rest of the time, even in the dead of night. Weather didn't stop her either, nor private property signs, nor the lock her parents eventually screwed to the outside of her door to keep her in at night. She'd instead escape out her window when she was sure her parents and sisters were asleep, shimmy down the maple tree and off into the night she'd go. Her parents didn't think she'd make it to middle school as her grades where so poor from her lack of interest in school, but, miraculously, Lacie just scraped by and launched ahead into the years of raging hormones.
Lacie was surprised to find that upon entering her seventh year of schooling all the girls she considered her friends had changed... and very oddly. All they wanted to talk about were the pimply, gangly boys in their grade whose ears were too big for their heads and voices squeaked like the dormouse Lacie had back home in its cage. She found their interests rather boring and soon drifted away from her friends, eventually going off on her own to investigate the wide city of Oxford. Parents and teachers both worried about her lack of friends and poor grades, but Lacie was fine on her own to go chasing after rabbits and squirrels in the park, to find secret places behind abandoned buildings and in her own home. What good were friends when all they wanted to do was give each other make overs? Boring.
The summer she was to start high school, Lacie received a strange letter, stamped with an old time-y wax rose seal. It was addressed to her which was odd enough because she never got letters, and inside was an invitation to attend a boarding school in Maine. Her parents thought the change of pace would do her good and they sent her off to Memory, their hopes high that living at school would make her more academically minded. What Lacie didn't show them, though, was the second page of the letter. It was hand written, this second part, in oddly uniform script that was honestly so perfect as to be a bit creepy. It talked about Lacie rather than to her, describing her strange habits of breaking out of her room at night to sneak off and explore the nighted city. It talked about her inability to keep close friends and her fondness for adventure, and it even talked about things she had never told anyone before.
It talked about the way she had always felt uncomfortable in her own skin. As if somehow this wasn't her body--she was just temporarily using it. Every so often Lacie would catch herself stretching and curling her fingers curiously, watching the skin fold and reach over her joints as if this was the most novel thing in the world. Sometimes she would spend hours in front of the mirror, not out of vanity, but out a strange sense that if she could simply touch it in the right way, or at the right time, or in the right room, she might be able to step through it and into the world beyond. The second page of the letter talked about how sometimes Lacie didn't respond when her name was called, not because she hadn't heard, but because she felt "Lacie" was simply the wrong name. The letter mentioned her fondness for cakes and logic and illogic and tea, for white rabbits with red eyes and ridiculous riddles. But Lacie didn't show this page to her parents. It didn't feel wrong for this person to know so much about her... It felt oddly comforting.
Lacie was shipped off to the boarding school in Memory, where she attended classes with much the same enthusiasm and disappointing grades as before. Lo and behold, however, the change of pace her parents wished for did manage to do her some good, though hardly in the way they might have anticipated.
What Memory did for Lacie was open her eyes. She had a funny feeling from the moment she was installed in her dormitory at school that there was something very different about this town, or at least the people. Upon receiving her class schedule and learning she had a Sorcery class second period pretty readily confirmed this, and over the months Lacie learned the startling truth about Memory. Some of the citizens of this town were possessed by the spirits of Disney characters, and had corresponding abilities or magic. Lacie felt something click into place when she learned this--she must of course be a host to a Disney Spirit as well... if only she could wake the spirit inside her, she might feel more at home in her own skin!
But four years at Classic Academy went by without Lacie's character making his- or herself known. Highly frustrated by this, Lacie soon found herself in trouble more often than not, her confusion and anger getting the better of her judgment and, well, consciousness of the law. Why wouldn't her stupid character wake up? Lacie just needed to know desperately who she was... and in a happy coincidence, her anger and general disregard for the law at this point led her to her answer.
Derek Grey was one of Memory's police officers, and through an odd sequence of events, soon became Lacie's best friend. Derek, she came to learn, was possessed by the spirit of the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland, as apparent in his split personality and his constant struggle to control the spirit in his head which Lacie affectionately nicknamed "Crazyface." She sometimes couldn't decide if she preferred Derek as Derek or as the Mad Hatter, his antics when possessed so highly amused her and were so different from the protective, serious Derek she knew normally. Lacie would sometimes intentionally egg Derek on to see the Mad Hatter come out to play; there was something she liked about him that she felt she didn't like before... As if she'd known him in a past life and dismissed him as a mad old fool, but found herself now craving his company all the more.
She envied Derek sometimes--for all his struggle and anger in keeping the Mad Hatter in check, at least he knew who he was playing host to. Lacie had an inkling, to be sure, but somehow felt that she wasn't possessed in quite the same way as Derek and the others of Memory.
DISNEY CHARACTER: Alice from Alice in Wonderland
ABILITIES/ATTRIBUTES: Grow taller/shorter depending on what little cake she eats, distort reality/cast temporary psychedelic illusions on people if she makes physical contact with them.
DESCRIPTION: Lacie is right in her suspicions--she is not possessed in the "normal" way. Where most people remain conscious of themselves and merely share their mind with their Disney Spirit, Alice had taken over Lacie's head completely the day after her birth, or her first unbirthday. The reason Lacie doesn't feel like her body is her own is because it isn't--Alice fully possesses Lacie, and Lacie Karen Day only ever existed for twenty-four short hours. Alice takes a surprisingly malicious form in this story, a claimer of souls (first Lacie, soon Derek). When Alice realizes she has always had full control of Lacie's body and Lacie does not actually exist anymore, Alice will be able to change her physical height depending on what cake she eats from the tin she always keep in her pocket, and will be able to cast temporary reality distortions on someone if she is making physical contact with them.
YOUR NAME: Rin
YOUR AGE: 20
YOUR RP EXPERIENCE: About 10 years
YOUR SAMPLE:
"Oi, there you go," Handy beamed at Donna, bobbling his head back and forth and smiling. "Plucky as ever, then." Donna's snappish temper and quick tongue never failed to amuse the Doctor, even in another universe. He practically giggled.
He took a few steps forward again to bridge the gap between when Rose had turned around to talk to Donna, finally coming up flush with her. He sort of towered over the both of them, Donna and Rose, his shoulders, neck, head, wacky hair and all over the tops of their heads, but even for his height he felt small in the cavernous corridor. Donna's voice echoed loudly in the empty space and sounded harsh... But aaah, Donna. "I'm so Sherlock," Handy bent to whisper in Rose's ear.
Well good for her! Good for you, Donna Noble, Handy couldn't help but grin at her, memories flooding his head and making him look for all the world like an utter crazy. What happened to Donna back on Earth didn't have to happen to this Donna, he realized. This one could keep her memories and have all sorts of adventures, and simply remembering his existence wouldn't make her head burst into flame. Even if this Donna decided to never travel the stars, she could have all sorts of adventures of her own, and that thought tickled Handy pink. Because this Donna still had a lot in common with the Donna he'd known... For starters, she was about to meet some aliens.
“Just lookin’ for my boyfriend, Lance. Not sure if he got out alright. A bit taller than me, black, bald?” Handy opened his mouth to answer that in fact they hadn't seen anyone else down here, but Donna interrupted, her sparkling personality shining through in times of crisis, just like before. “And what you doin’ down here anyway?” She demanded, and Handy noticed she had, perhaps, a secretly amused edge to her voice. An edge which Handy had adopted from his own Doctor Donna back in the Medusa Cascade.
Handy again tried to answer, when he noticed Rose reaching for the weapon Torchwood had so graciously given her. He frowned a bit but returned his attention to Donna, saying "Haven't seen him, Donna, sorry." He scrunched up his nose, clasped his hands behind his back and leaned in forward like he used to when he had to explain things in a hurry, quickly adding "Though I dunno how much you honestly want to go looking for him." He sniffed. "C'mon, Rose," he turned away again, not necessarily excluding Donna though he knew her well enough to know she'd tag along anyway.
But Rose's little scream had caught his full attention straight away, and he whipped back around to see that Rose had found the Chameleon. "But... What? How did you get there?" He asked it, taking in its gnarled appearance with hardly a change in his expression, so accustomed was he to dealing with various life forms that even his thought process was unbiased as far as appearances were concerned. But Chameleons had a nasty little history that Handy would rather not repeat, though by principle he figured he ought to give the little guy a chance. Maybe he was just lost.
He could give him the benefit of the doubt before the little blighter went about stealing faces, couldn't he?
