Post by Darla Tsuriya on Jul 22, 2013 18:07:48 GMT -5
Name: Darla Tsuriya (Ai Ichigo)
School Attending: Miator
Age/ Year in School:
15/Fourth Year
~ Appearance ~
Hair Color: A deep, healthy brown.
Hairstyle: Darla's hair currently reaches to her shoulder blades. She does not typically style it, though- wash, brush straight, and good to go.
Eye Color: Similarly brown, though sometimes gray-ish dependent on lighting.
Height: 5'3
What kind of clothes does you character wear when she's not in uniform? Darla's full attire consists of pants and long-sleeved tops. These are not her choices, but those of her adoptive parents. Out of their protectiveness for her, they opted to get her primarily clothing that hid any scars.
What kinds of activities is your character involved in? -You may choose "none" or choose a maximum of three from the list below.
Foreign Language: Yes
Is your character on the Student Council? – No.
Please explain your character's personality in 200 words or more:
Despite her rowdy attitude, lack of willpower to accomplish work, obvious rejection of teamwork, and general standoffishness, one cannot deny that she has a twisted sense of charisma. Her intellect never gets in the way of her being open or forward with others, she promotes that others do what they enjoy most, and, occasionally, she can step up to enforce her own moral code- rare enough, though it is. She's honest, perhaps to a fault, and seldom bothers twisting the truth- there's typically nothing to gain from it, in any case, or so she claims. Lacking patience, she's quick to become irritated with others when they refuse to relent- doubly so when she's already voiced her problem. Though she is a genius, she does not act pompous unless someone tries to one-up her on that field- at which point, she slowly, viciously rips apart their ego, playing at their own game.
Lazy with things that do not interest her, she often seems lethargic, simply due to her general apathy with her surroundings. Ninety-nine percent of the activity at school is classified as “normal”, and, to her, this simply means that these things should be ignored or experienced with minimal attention, so as to best preserve her “self”. Coincidentally, her apathetic nature towards the normal has also given her, what seems to others as, a borderline indomitable sense of courage. In truth, things that other people rate higher on a threat scale still fall under “normal” or “negligible” in her book, thus deserving nothing beyond her general disinterest.
When she needs to be, or desires to be, she's actually very creative and resourceful. Whether it's tools or people, the line can blur at times for her, she'll utilize everything within her grasp to best attain what she desires- typically entertainment, but also something that would lead to something entertaining. Very seldom does she seem to care about the way she uses people, unless it contradicts her vague and otherwise twisted moral code. Typically, so long as the person is still capable of enjoying what they like the most, she won't hesitate to manipulate, use, and throw away a person, even if it does lead to them hating or wishing ill on her. Seldom does it get to that point, however.
What does your character think of the Etoile position as a whole? It's a waste of time, and a means of instilling order and normalcy in the students' environment.
Does your character want to be an Etoile someday? If it was a solo position, perhaps.
What does your character think of Shizuka Myuzu and Chokone Manatsu, the current etoiles? Chokone reminds her of squirrels and mice, along with any other small and vulnerable creature. By extension, it makes her wonder what kinds of sounds the girl makes upon being teased, hurt, or other things. As well as [censored] and [removed for your sanity]. Shizuka? Shizuka makes her think of the generic knight with a charge. And because of that, Darla can't help but wonder how far the knight could be pushed before her loyalty or selfishness shows.
What does your character think of the other schools? A good conflict disrupts order, so Darla can at least support the animosity between Miator and Spica. Beyond that, she honestly couldn't care less about establishment or other little details. She was funneled into Miator because the uniform hid certain secrets on her legs.
~History~
History before Astraea Hill:
Darla was the daughter of a happy couple. Her mother was from America and came to Japan with her husband, who was originally from Japan. Everything was fine, even if her mother's family disowned her because of a few racist reasons with her marrying a “Jap”. Yep. Everything was good. Until the father disappeared shortly after Darla was born. And by “disappeared”, we mean “could not be found, even with investigators, after the course of two months”. So where does that leave us? A single mother with the baby of a man that she believed abandoned her, in an alien land, whose parents have disowned her. No job, nor money, either.
. . . care to guess how Darla was treated by her mother?
Darla was a very smart girl. Even though it took her the act of finding her birth certificate to realize that her name was not, in fact, “Shithead”. Unfortunately, her intelligence, combined with her mother's treatment and blatant openness with sex and random men led to the girl developing a very disturbing outlook on things. Curiosity arises when one is not satisfied with their current level of knowledge or awareness. She was distinctly aware that she was smarter than her peers once she got into school. This, combined with the fact that simple observation showed her that these children were blissfully innocent compared to her. So she found no interest in the normality at school. Textbooks? One read and she could recite from memory. That's the quality of her eclectic memory.
So rather than indulging in the simplicity of life like a normal child would, she sought out more “adult” interests. This led to her walking out of the home one night while her mother was having fun with one of her male friends. Thing is, Japan is a strange place. The age of consent is fairly low, but if both parties are quiet about it, that sort of thing is even ignored. She learned about sex firsthand. And, after a few occurrences, she lost interest. It wasn't appealing to her. She gained nothing from it. Her curiosity was sated. For a time, it seemed like she might have had a chance to become “normal”.
But then her mother got a desktop computer and an internet connection. The internet is a realm where the diffusion of information flows rampantly. For one bored with normality and already years ahead of her grade level in terms of book smarts, it was no different from opening up the world itself. Her understanding of history, Japanese, and math quickly progressed towards upper high school levels. Then other, optional fields came to her attention. Within months, she was a walking thesis-producer. More than that, she had become fluent in English, German, and Latin. Eventually, though, her interest in learning dwindled. Nothing was challenging her, again, so nothing interested her. It was then that she began investigating cultural phenomenon.
It was during this act that drugs stepped upon the stage. Luckily, she couldn't get money for them, thanks to her mother squandering the majority on vanity items and alcohol (which Darla did ingest, on occasion). Unfortunately, she found ways around that thanks to the internet. She managed to get in touch with some Japanese Satanists and offered to translate a number of their unholy books from Latin to easily-understandable English. This led to a small network of cultists wanting translations. After a few weeks, she had learned and translated numerous occult books into more than ten languages. Cultists paid well despite being crazy little monsters, she discovered.
Then her curiosity was sated. And, for several months, the girl tried out things that were universally considered “hard” drugs. By some miracle, she didn't die. She didn't die. Not permanently, anyway. She was declared clinically dead for about fifteen minutes, though. See, even when you take into consideration the dosage of a drug in comparison to body mass, a child is still, ultimately, a child. Their bodies aren't meant to be processing substances like that. Despite that, she did survive. And despite her awareness of the risks, she did continue for a while longer.
It actually wasn't until her mother, who was afraid of legal intervention, begged her to stop that she actually did. For the first time since. . . ever, she felt like she had power. Seeing her mother groveling was. . . both amusing and interesting. But this only meant that she needed a new means of entertaining herself. She did lose interest in drugs. She was just fueling the addictions her body had developed. And, to be expected, she did suffer from withdrawals. Her symptoms, which still have not completely gone away, included shakes and general muscle spasms, general pain, lightheadedness, irritability, and paranoia.
Her next vice was self-destruction. That was around the time she entered middle school- age twelve. Her knowledge of the human body was enough to keep her relatively safe on a normal day. But mix cutting together with a bit of a thrill, and, occasionally, the blade just. . . gets a little too deep. It was a nasty hobby that went on for a few months. Shortly after she turned thirteen, she wanted too much of a thrill and the blade went too far into her wrist.
That was the second time she was declared clinically dead. That time, for only a couple of minutes. Call it a miracle, call it the work of doctors that refused to give up, or call it the devil's luck of a creature that needed the unusual. Whatever the case, she lived. And again, attention was on her mother. And again, desperation drove her mother to discard her dignity. It filled her with a sense of pride- twisted, but pleasant.
Her mother was driven to the edge by that point. Her lifestyle and stress showed on her body, and her male friends had begun to desert her. What little stability she had was her daughter. And, for once, she tried to act like a proper mother. By that point, though it was just a little too late. Not even a month after returning from the hospital, Darla was on death's door for a third time. It wasn't due to drugs or illness. It wasn't due to injury or conditions. No, no. This cause was much more direct and actually interpersonal. You see, the third time she “died”, it was at the hands of her mother.
It was just too late to play the role of a proper and loving mother. And this was a fact that Darla made sure to drive home. See, she didn't just study basic and advanced information of the general variety. She didn't just look up thrills and unique experiences. She observed just as much as she learned. She was a twisted genius that had taken up a research of personality and emotions. When her mother tried to have a heart to heart, Darla gave her a heart to heart. It just happened to be delivered in the perfect manner to break a person that was already on the thin ice between normality and lunacy. In two sentences, Darla had summarized all of her mother's complexes in regards to her, trivialized them, and shattered what little bit of reason the woman had left.
Part of the cause for the attempted heart-to-heart was the fact that the Japanese equivalent of child protective services were coming for an at-home inspection that day, to determine whether or not Darla's mother and home were truly appropriate for a child. That was part of the reason that Darla was so sure of herself. By the time knocks arrived at the door, the struggling was dying down, but it was still just audible enough to alert the agents. And when they opened the door, they found the girl's mother over her, trying her hardest to choke the girl to death. In a way, she succeeded. But Darla recovered.
Mostly through accident as an attempt to drive the woman away from Darla's body, the agents managed to drive the woman back, but she hit her head hard enough that, unlike her daughter, she wouldn't be waking back up. So, a quick look back on her life. She failed as a wife, thinking that her husband abandoned her, when, as it turned out, the man was killed and then disposed of. She failed as a mother, taking out her frustrations on her daughter and effectively being the cause of her daughter's own twisted state. Finally, she failed as a murderer. Her victim survived, and she, instead, died.
While recovering in bed, Darla met an interesting party of three. It was a man, woman, and their daughter. She did not question why they invaded her hospital room. Nor did she care as to why they were acting so friendly and nice towards her. For some reason, her cold disposition didn't seem to surprise them or drive them away. Later into the exchange, it was revealed to her that they were going to adopt her. A new mother, a father, and a sister older by a year. They were friends with one of the agents involved in rescue. That connection and just simply having hearts that were too large was what ended up putting the girl in their care.
Really, they were too kind.
They went to a psychiatrist as a group, but the problem here was that Darla had already learned about the ways of shrinks. She already broke a person. Playing the straight man in front of a group was no difficult task. She could tell these people were different from her mother. Yeah, it was her chance to be “normal”. If not spoiled a bit. But, just like with her birth-mother's attempt to turn over a new leaf, this change was just too late- the damage had been dealt. Darla was already broken as a human being, and she knew how to hide it. It was actually more a question of whether or not she knew how to reveal it at that point.
She was given care and attention. She was held gently as opposed to being jerked around. It was “normal” for others, but new to her. Even her older sister was so very careful, as if they all thought they could break the girl by accident. Because of the protectiveness of her new family, she did find herself with new restrictions. It was alien and different. Enough to amuse her for a time. She played by their rules, kept her hobbies of the time to more normal things. She had her own computer at that point- and a game system, though she barely used it. School was too simple, so she had begun taking up fiction as a means to stimulate her mind while waiting on new allowances to open up due to good behavior.
It was during that time that she developed yet another perverse desire. She'd already participated in the biggest self-related taboos. Sex, drugs, and self-destruction. What was worse? Something that involved another entity. But what was so taboo that it'd appeal to her? It was simple. It was considered a heinous crime in practically every society. It occured every day, with victims of every race, either gender, and any walk of life. Murder. But, she simply couldn't murder a human being. While she desired the unusual and twisted, she found that she did not want to impose her will on others to that degree.
Not on humans. Animals, however, were not people. Once she was allowed to wander around the community, she developed a nasty habit of finding animals and- . . . well, the finer details are best omitted. The end results were dead animals. Much like her broken self, she kept the habits hidden. Her family didn't learn about it. Perhaps they had some inkling of the problems that the girl had, but, if they did, Darla never noticed- and she was good at noticing things.
So, life went on. Once they believed that Darla had recovered, they looked into enrolling both her and their blood-daughter into a more refined school. Something that would combine learning with a separated living experience- for the sake of future independence. This is what led to the two being enrolled at Astraea.
Fifth Year:
Sixth Year:
Sample Post: Though she stared at the words upon the pages of the textbook, Darla did not see nor acknowledge the meaning behind them. She knew the passages by heart in three or four other renditions, at least half of which were worded more eloquently than the word-container on her desk. In all honesty, she felt confined in the classroom environment, more so given that she was wearing Miator's uniform. It was similar to a doll's outfit, really. She was not a doll, nor was she the sort of girl that enjoyed dressing up specially for the sake of others. They were wastes of time that benefited her in no particular way.
Someone in the room reeked of a scent she'd never encountered prior to the now. It was interesting, in a way, but it made her sick to the stomach, almost as much as when a fit of withdrawals gut punched her repeatedly. Or, perhaps she was about to have withdrawals and the scent was just noteworthy? She could not be one hundred percent certain on the matter. As the bell chimed, though, the maiden made her way out of the classroom speed rivaling that of Sleipnir. Scent or withdrawal, she had no desire to be ill in the company of prettied-up girls who lived sheltered lives. Those were her thoughts as she turned the nearest corner, walking at a pace that could have put joggers to shame.
How did you find our website? It's Amoretta/Eri.
School Attending: Miator
Age/ Year in School:
15/Fourth Year
~ Appearance ~
Hair Color: A deep, healthy brown.
Hairstyle: Darla's hair currently reaches to her shoulder blades. She does not typically style it, though- wash, brush straight, and good to go.
Eye Color: Similarly brown, though sometimes gray-ish dependent on lighting.
Height: 5'3
What kind of clothes does you character wear when she's not in uniform? Darla's full attire consists of pants and long-sleeved tops. These are not her choices, but those of her adoptive parents. Out of their protectiveness for her, they opted to get her primarily clothing that hid any scars.
What kinds of activities is your character involved in? -You may choose "none" or choose a maximum of three from the list below.
Foreign Language: Yes
Is your character on the Student Council? – No.
Please explain your character's personality in 200 words or more:
Despite her rowdy attitude, lack of willpower to accomplish work, obvious rejection of teamwork, and general standoffishness, one cannot deny that she has a twisted sense of charisma. Her intellect never gets in the way of her being open or forward with others, she promotes that others do what they enjoy most, and, occasionally, she can step up to enforce her own moral code- rare enough, though it is. She's honest, perhaps to a fault, and seldom bothers twisting the truth- there's typically nothing to gain from it, in any case, or so she claims. Lacking patience, she's quick to become irritated with others when they refuse to relent- doubly so when she's already voiced her problem. Though she is a genius, she does not act pompous unless someone tries to one-up her on that field- at which point, she slowly, viciously rips apart their ego, playing at their own game.
Lazy with things that do not interest her, she often seems lethargic, simply due to her general apathy with her surroundings. Ninety-nine percent of the activity at school is classified as “normal”, and, to her, this simply means that these things should be ignored or experienced with minimal attention, so as to best preserve her “self”. Coincidentally, her apathetic nature towards the normal has also given her, what seems to others as, a borderline indomitable sense of courage. In truth, things that other people rate higher on a threat scale still fall under “normal” or “negligible” in her book, thus deserving nothing beyond her general disinterest.
When she needs to be, or desires to be, she's actually very creative and resourceful. Whether it's tools or people, the line can blur at times for her, she'll utilize everything within her grasp to best attain what she desires- typically entertainment, but also something that would lead to something entertaining. Very seldom does she seem to care about the way she uses people, unless it contradicts her vague and otherwise twisted moral code. Typically, so long as the person is still capable of enjoying what they like the most, she won't hesitate to manipulate, use, and throw away a person, even if it does lead to them hating or wishing ill on her. Seldom does it get to that point, however.
What does your character think of the Etoile position as a whole? It's a waste of time, and a means of instilling order and normalcy in the students' environment.
Does your character want to be an Etoile someday? If it was a solo position, perhaps.
What does your character think of Shizuka Myuzu and Chokone Manatsu, the current etoiles? Chokone reminds her of squirrels and mice, along with any other small and vulnerable creature. By extension, it makes her wonder what kinds of sounds the girl makes upon being teased, hurt, or other things. As well as [censored] and [removed for your sanity]. Shizuka? Shizuka makes her think of the generic knight with a charge. And because of that, Darla can't help but wonder how far the knight could be pushed before her loyalty or selfishness shows.
What does your character think of the other schools? A good conflict disrupts order, so Darla can at least support the animosity between Miator and Spica. Beyond that, she honestly couldn't care less about establishment or other little details. She was funneled into Miator because the uniform hid certain secrets on her legs.
~History~
History before Astraea Hill:
Darla was the daughter of a happy couple. Her mother was from America and came to Japan with her husband, who was originally from Japan. Everything was fine, even if her mother's family disowned her because of a few racist reasons with her marrying a “Jap”. Yep. Everything was good. Until the father disappeared shortly after Darla was born. And by “disappeared”, we mean “could not be found, even with investigators, after the course of two months”. So where does that leave us? A single mother with the baby of a man that she believed abandoned her, in an alien land, whose parents have disowned her. No job, nor money, either.
. . . care to guess how Darla was treated by her mother?
Darla was a very smart girl. Even though it took her the act of finding her birth certificate to realize that her name was not, in fact, “Shithead”. Unfortunately, her intelligence, combined with her mother's treatment and blatant openness with sex and random men led to the girl developing a very disturbing outlook on things. Curiosity arises when one is not satisfied with their current level of knowledge or awareness. She was distinctly aware that she was smarter than her peers once she got into school. This, combined with the fact that simple observation showed her that these children were blissfully innocent compared to her. So she found no interest in the normality at school. Textbooks? One read and she could recite from memory. That's the quality of her eclectic memory.
So rather than indulging in the simplicity of life like a normal child would, she sought out more “adult” interests. This led to her walking out of the home one night while her mother was having fun with one of her male friends. Thing is, Japan is a strange place. The age of consent is fairly low, but if both parties are quiet about it, that sort of thing is even ignored. She learned about sex firsthand. And, after a few occurrences, she lost interest. It wasn't appealing to her. She gained nothing from it. Her curiosity was sated. For a time, it seemed like she might have had a chance to become “normal”.
But then her mother got a desktop computer and an internet connection. The internet is a realm where the diffusion of information flows rampantly. For one bored with normality and already years ahead of her grade level in terms of book smarts, it was no different from opening up the world itself. Her understanding of history, Japanese, and math quickly progressed towards upper high school levels. Then other, optional fields came to her attention. Within months, she was a walking thesis-producer. More than that, she had become fluent in English, German, and Latin. Eventually, though, her interest in learning dwindled. Nothing was challenging her, again, so nothing interested her. It was then that she began investigating cultural phenomenon.
It was during this act that drugs stepped upon the stage. Luckily, she couldn't get money for them, thanks to her mother squandering the majority on vanity items and alcohol (which Darla did ingest, on occasion). Unfortunately, she found ways around that thanks to the internet. She managed to get in touch with some Japanese Satanists and offered to translate a number of their unholy books from Latin to easily-understandable English. This led to a small network of cultists wanting translations. After a few weeks, she had learned and translated numerous occult books into more than ten languages. Cultists paid well despite being crazy little monsters, she discovered.
Then her curiosity was sated. And, for several months, the girl tried out things that were universally considered “hard” drugs. By some miracle, she didn't die. She didn't die. Not permanently, anyway. She was declared clinically dead for about fifteen minutes, though. See, even when you take into consideration the dosage of a drug in comparison to body mass, a child is still, ultimately, a child. Their bodies aren't meant to be processing substances like that. Despite that, she did survive. And despite her awareness of the risks, she did continue for a while longer.
It actually wasn't until her mother, who was afraid of legal intervention, begged her to stop that she actually did. For the first time since. . . ever, she felt like she had power. Seeing her mother groveling was. . . both amusing and interesting. But this only meant that she needed a new means of entertaining herself. She did lose interest in drugs. She was just fueling the addictions her body had developed. And, to be expected, she did suffer from withdrawals. Her symptoms, which still have not completely gone away, included shakes and general muscle spasms, general pain, lightheadedness, irritability, and paranoia.
Her next vice was self-destruction. That was around the time she entered middle school- age twelve. Her knowledge of the human body was enough to keep her relatively safe on a normal day. But mix cutting together with a bit of a thrill, and, occasionally, the blade just. . . gets a little too deep. It was a nasty hobby that went on for a few months. Shortly after she turned thirteen, she wanted too much of a thrill and the blade went too far into her wrist.
That was the second time she was declared clinically dead. That time, for only a couple of minutes. Call it a miracle, call it the work of doctors that refused to give up, or call it the devil's luck of a creature that needed the unusual. Whatever the case, she lived. And again, attention was on her mother. And again, desperation drove her mother to discard her dignity. It filled her with a sense of pride- twisted, but pleasant.
Her mother was driven to the edge by that point. Her lifestyle and stress showed on her body, and her male friends had begun to desert her. What little stability she had was her daughter. And, for once, she tried to act like a proper mother. By that point, though it was just a little too late. Not even a month after returning from the hospital, Darla was on death's door for a third time. It wasn't due to drugs or illness. It wasn't due to injury or conditions. No, no. This cause was much more direct and actually interpersonal. You see, the third time she “died”, it was at the hands of her mother.
It was just too late to play the role of a proper and loving mother. And this was a fact that Darla made sure to drive home. See, she didn't just study basic and advanced information of the general variety. She didn't just look up thrills and unique experiences. She observed just as much as she learned. She was a twisted genius that had taken up a research of personality and emotions. When her mother tried to have a heart to heart, Darla gave her a heart to heart. It just happened to be delivered in the perfect manner to break a person that was already on the thin ice between normality and lunacy. In two sentences, Darla had summarized all of her mother's complexes in regards to her, trivialized them, and shattered what little bit of reason the woman had left.
Part of the cause for the attempted heart-to-heart was the fact that the Japanese equivalent of child protective services were coming for an at-home inspection that day, to determine whether or not Darla's mother and home were truly appropriate for a child. That was part of the reason that Darla was so sure of herself. By the time knocks arrived at the door, the struggling was dying down, but it was still just audible enough to alert the agents. And when they opened the door, they found the girl's mother over her, trying her hardest to choke the girl to death. In a way, she succeeded. But Darla recovered.
Mostly through accident as an attempt to drive the woman away from Darla's body, the agents managed to drive the woman back, but she hit her head hard enough that, unlike her daughter, she wouldn't be waking back up. So, a quick look back on her life. She failed as a wife, thinking that her husband abandoned her, when, as it turned out, the man was killed and then disposed of. She failed as a mother, taking out her frustrations on her daughter and effectively being the cause of her daughter's own twisted state. Finally, she failed as a murderer. Her victim survived, and she, instead, died.
While recovering in bed, Darla met an interesting party of three. It was a man, woman, and their daughter. She did not question why they invaded her hospital room. Nor did she care as to why they were acting so friendly and nice towards her. For some reason, her cold disposition didn't seem to surprise them or drive them away. Later into the exchange, it was revealed to her that they were going to adopt her. A new mother, a father, and a sister older by a year. They were friends with one of the agents involved in rescue. That connection and just simply having hearts that were too large was what ended up putting the girl in their care.
Really, they were too kind.
They went to a psychiatrist as a group, but the problem here was that Darla had already learned about the ways of shrinks. She already broke a person. Playing the straight man in front of a group was no difficult task. She could tell these people were different from her mother. Yeah, it was her chance to be “normal”. If not spoiled a bit. But, just like with her birth-mother's attempt to turn over a new leaf, this change was just too late- the damage had been dealt. Darla was already broken as a human being, and she knew how to hide it. It was actually more a question of whether or not she knew how to reveal it at that point.
She was given care and attention. She was held gently as opposed to being jerked around. It was “normal” for others, but new to her. Even her older sister was so very careful, as if they all thought they could break the girl by accident. Because of the protectiveness of her new family, she did find herself with new restrictions. It was alien and different. Enough to amuse her for a time. She played by their rules, kept her hobbies of the time to more normal things. She had her own computer at that point- and a game system, though she barely used it. School was too simple, so she had begun taking up fiction as a means to stimulate her mind while waiting on new allowances to open up due to good behavior.
It was during that time that she developed yet another perverse desire. She'd already participated in the biggest self-related taboos. Sex, drugs, and self-destruction. What was worse? Something that involved another entity. But what was so taboo that it'd appeal to her? It was simple. It was considered a heinous crime in practically every society. It occured every day, with victims of every race, either gender, and any walk of life. Murder. But, she simply couldn't murder a human being. While she desired the unusual and twisted, she found that she did not want to impose her will on others to that degree.
Not on humans. Animals, however, were not people. Once she was allowed to wander around the community, she developed a nasty habit of finding animals and- . . . well, the finer details are best omitted. The end results were dead animals. Much like her broken self, she kept the habits hidden. Her family didn't learn about it. Perhaps they had some inkling of the problems that the girl had, but, if they did, Darla never noticed- and she was good at noticing things.
So, life went on. Once they believed that Darla had recovered, they looked into enrolling both her and their blood-daughter into a more refined school. Something that would combine learning with a separated living experience- for the sake of future independence. This is what led to the two being enrolled at Astraea.
Fifth Year:
Sixth Year:
Sample Post: Though she stared at the words upon the pages of the textbook, Darla did not see nor acknowledge the meaning behind them. She knew the passages by heart in three or four other renditions, at least half of which were worded more eloquently than the word-container on her desk. In all honesty, she felt confined in the classroom environment, more so given that she was wearing Miator's uniform. It was similar to a doll's outfit, really. She was not a doll, nor was she the sort of girl that enjoyed dressing up specially for the sake of others. They were wastes of time that benefited her in no particular way.
Someone in the room reeked of a scent she'd never encountered prior to the now. It was interesting, in a way, but it made her sick to the stomach, almost as much as when a fit of withdrawals gut punched her repeatedly. Or, perhaps she was about to have withdrawals and the scent was just noteworthy? She could not be one hundred percent certain on the matter. As the bell chimed, though, the maiden made her way out of the classroom speed rivaling that of Sleipnir. Scent or withdrawal, she had no desire to be ill in the company of prettied-up girls who lived sheltered lives. Those were her thoughts as she turned the nearest corner, walking at a pace that could have put joggers to shame.
How did you find our website? It's Amoretta/Eri.
Just wait for Rin~
thought that was the longest history I've ever seen o__o