Post by Karma Mercy Delacour on Apr 14, 2013 20:44:38 GMT -5
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You'd be the cause I had no doubt
Of any trouble hereabout
You play a virgin in the light
But need no urgin' in the night.
* * * *
NAME:. Karma Mercy Delacour
NICKNAMES:. N/A
SPECIES:. Water Elemental
GENDER:. Female
AGE:. 20
OCUPATION:. Bartender and Dog Walker
BIRTHDAY:. October 23
ORIENTATION:. Pansexual
MARITAL STATUS:. Single
* * * *
.:appearance:.
BUILD:. Thin
HAIR COLOR:. Auburn
EYE COLOR:. Blue
HEIGHT:. 5'2"
WEIGHT:. 110 lbs
PLAY-BY:. Opaque Suicide
MARKS:. Karma has a seed of life tattoo placed in the "tramp stamp" area of her lower back. It is about three inches by three inches and very colorful. She has a septum ring, but often turns it up in an attempt to hide it. She also has her ear lobes stretched to a size 8. She plans to go larger, but has yet to find the motivation to do so.
While her tattoos and piercings are few, Karma's scars are plenty. She has dozens upon dozens of thin, white scars upon the tops of her thighs and her right forearm. On the back of her neck, she has a set of small puncture wound scars from an attack she endured earlier in her life. Upon the inside crook of her elbows, she also has puncture wound scars from a history of heroine abuse. She also has large, crooked scars running from her knees up the entirety of her thighs.
.:personality:.
[li] Writing
[/li][li] Journals
[/li][li] Colors
[/li][li] Water
[/li][li] Rain
[/li][li] The way is smells when it's about to rain
[/li][li] Animal Print
[/li][li] Animals
[/li][li] Staying out all night
[/li][li] Dancing
[/li][li] Clubs
[/li][li] Cemeteries
[/li][li] Stars
[/li][li] Astrology
[/li][li] Nature
[/li][li] Cigarettes
[/li][li]
[/li][li] Alcohol
[/li][/ul]
[li] Homophobia
[/li][li] Stupidity
[/li][li] Birds
[/li][li] Daytime
[/li][li] Weddings
[/li][li] Ignorance
[/li][li] The idea of "true love"
[/li][li] People who can't take anything seriously
[/li][li] Religion
[/li][li] Shoes
[/li][li] The indoors
[/li][li] Sobriety
[/li][li] French (The language)
[/li][li] Small dogs (Except Pugs)
[/li][li] Being touched
[/li][li] Emotions
[/li][/ul]
[li] Controlling Water
[/li][li] Intellect
[/li][li] Feigning Perfection
[/li][/ul]
[li] Mathematics
[/li][li] Socializing with people other than her sister
[/li][li] Drugs and Alcohol
[/li][/ul]
[li] Spiders
[/li][li] Being attacked again
[/li][li] The future
[/li][/ul]
[li] Karma often hides her heroine addiction as well as her well-to-do family. She wants no ties to her parents or France, what-so-ever.
[/li][/ul]
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.:PAST:.
MOTHER:. Angel Louise Delacour - 49
FATHER:. Marcel Delacour - 53
SIBLING(S):.
Rayne Wynter Delacour - 20
Fayth Marigold Delacour - 20
OTHER:. N/A
PET(S):.
Anubis - Female - A Tiger colored Domestic Short hair cat
Sir Charles Withersworth - Male - Pug
HISTORY:.
Angel and Marcel Delacour were a quite well to do French family. Marcel was well involved with the government, being a member of the French Parliament and all. The two were a perfect match, politically that is. Angel was the daughter of a Governor and Marcel was the son of a former Parliament chair. Their match was predetermined by their parents. While old -fashioned, this idea of arranged marriage was one that was still very much alive in French Government, for French Government is very much obsessed with appearances and public approval. No one wants ANOTHER French Revolution. After all, the people liked Marie and beheaded her anyway. However, I digress. Despite the pair's politically correct, public "love," the two could not detest enough more in their private lives. Marcel kept several mistresses, and unless needed for one of her husband's public appearances, Angel was often galavanting around the canals of Venice with her teenage sweet heart, Phillipe.
However, several years into their marriage and their affairs, the Delacour's spotless complexion was blemished with a photo of Angel and Phillipe embracing on a Gondola. Of course, scandalous stories ran and Marcel was furious. Not only did he feel betrayed by his wife, despite the fact that he too experienced voluntary extra-marital sex often, but he was afraid for his political career. This was a deadly combination for such a man and so, one night when he returned home from work, Marcel decided he had learned how to rectify their blemish: an impregnation. Angel refused, being madly in love with Phillipe and wanting to divorce her horrid husband. However, Marcel would not take no for an answer, and so violently raped his "beloved" wife.
Autumn in Paris has always been a beautiful time, one of change and death so as to make room for new life in the spring. It was during this time that Angel Delacour gave birth to three girls: Fayth Marigold, Rayne Winter, and Karma Mercy. All were born with no complications, and all were perfect blue-eyed, blonde haired babies, in perfect mimicry of their "perfect" parents. Throughout her pregnancy, and even now that her triplets were born and breathing, Angel held disdain for her girls for they symbolized the violent act that forever changed the already horrid relationship of the Delacour parents. As soon as it was possible, Angel hired a several nannies, three in fact, to tend to her demon spawn so that she did not need to see their faces.
Fraternal physically when born, and fraternal in personality as the triplets aged, Karma and her sister Rayne quickly began to show they were the mischievous ones. Fayth on the other hand, was saintly, even from birth. She rarely cried, and often seemed to coo her sisters to sleep. However, because of this difference in personality Rayne and Karma often excluded their elder sister (by approximately two minutes ), from their games, even at the young age of five. It was often that Karma, being the youngest triplet, would pick on her sister Fayth, because she would allow her to. She would pull her hair, rip her pictures, blame her for messes she would purposely make just to get her "saintly" sister in trouble. Naturally, Rayne was right by Karma's side the whole time.
Time passed, and the sisters stayed basically the same. Rayne remained in her "clique" with Karma, and though beloved by her two sisters, Fayth remained the outlier. The girls aged to thirteen, still their mother held disdain for them and they rarely saw their father save for on their television screens. Naturally, now that they were 13, the girls began to enter the public light, same as their parents. Fayth was automatically liked. Rayne was favored, as her antics had evolved to silent teen angst hidden with a scowl, excessive eye-makeup, and dyed hair. However, Karma had not changed in the least. She still found it fun to torture her sister Fayth while she stood by silently and accepted the abuse. However, now being in secondary school, her periphery had widened, meaning she now had more targets. Of course, the children she bothered were naturally the other parliament members' children. This meant that her antics were wide-known throughout the country, which earned her public disapproval and therefore disapproval from her father. It didn't help that it was around this time that Karma realized she was more than a simple girl. Water seemed to call her name. She felt at peace, one with water when she was in it. She soon realized she could control it. She entertained her peers in the school yard with her tricks, tried showing the cameras, boasted to her sisters that she was special and they were not, but one day when she nearly drowned a camera-man, her father knew it was enough.
It wasn't long before Marcel began keeping Karma away from the limelight. He had her wardrobe coordinator dress her in beiges and grays when she was out, so she was not one to catch one's eye. However, on most occasions when her presence would have been required, he paid her to stay home or leave the country on a "necessary leave," so he called it when asked where she was. It was during this time that Karma soon realized how unwanted she was as a daughter, and a person. For simple school yard tricks, her name and picture had been slung through the mud on numerous occasions. She had never tried to please the people, but it was on a vacation to Amsterdam that she consciously decided to no longer care. Her first trip occurred when she was seventeen, and it was at seventeen that she met Katelyn. Katelyn was several years older, being twenty two and a "pleasure adviser" in the infamous Red Light District. The two became quickly inseparable, both from each other and their own private bed. Thus, Karma soon delved into underground world of the Red Light District that was infidelity and narcotics.
For a year and a half, Karma practically lived in Amsterdam with Katelyn, she was there so often. Her parents either didn't notice or didn't care, but her sisters were concerned. Karma was almost always high on heroine and unbeknownst to her sisters, she acted as a drug mule for Katelyn's manager, Antonio. During this time, Karma had turned away from her talent, from the call of the water. She felt there were more pressing matters at hand. Being a Government official's daughter, Karma was never suspected to be carrying when she traveled Europe, therefore, she carried, for a price: free heroine and unlimited access to Katelyn. However, it wasn't long before her feelings of lust turned to love for Katelyn. Katelyn expressed the same, and suddenly a drugged up Karma was in pain to see her love be caught in the world of legal prostitution. She concocted a plan to free her from Antonio, one that included one last drug haul which would result in Karma stealing the money instead of returning it to Antonio so that she and Katelyn could escape his grasp. Months ago, she would have phoned her sisters for the money, but months ago she had told them to go to hell and broke all contact.
The night had come for Karma to carry her last haul of drugs and then the couple would forever depart Amsterdam. However, as she walked to Antonio's apartment to acquire the stash, two of his men grabbed her by the arms and roughly brought her in to his office. There, behind a mahogany desk sat Antonio and Katelyn, the latter stroking the first's hair. Tears brimmed in Karma's eyes as she wailed for an explanation. Katelyn had never wanted to leave, she was only in love with Antonio, and the moment that Karma had divulged her plans, Katelyn ran to her beloved with the news. Her attempt at betrayal was known, and Antonio would not tolerate betrayal. He had his men strap her to a table and remove her clothing. At first, Karma thought it was her fate to be raped, but she would not be so lucky. Antonio produced a large carving blade and quickly began slicing at her supple thighs, delving bone deep from knee to hip. Bleeding profusely, muted from the pain, she begged for death for she was sure it was now her fate, death. But no, again Antonio produced a shiny weapon. This time, it resembled a tuning fork. Unstrapping her and pulling her to the ground, Antonio flipped Karma over on her stomach and stabbed her with the tuning fork in the back of the neck, precisely so that death would not ensue, but paralysis probably would. In a last act of torture, Antonio had his men leave her at the doorstep to a local hospital, so that her life may be saved.
She spent a week unconscious in her hospital bed, Fayth and Rayne by her side during her entire slumber. Upon waking, Karma had never cried so hard. So close was the bond between sisters that after everything Karma had partaken in, her two most beloved sisters were ready to be at her side in an instant. The trio now nineteen, spent several months recovering Karma. The stab to the back of her neck had not paralyzed her, but it coupled with the many slices to her muscles significantly hindered her walking. In seek of better physical therapy and medical assistance, the triplets implored their father for money and then set off for the United States. While here, Karma's walking improved greatly, though she still often had to walk with a cane. Her withdrawal was brutal on all of them, but they weathered it bravely. It was during this time of bonding that the other two sisters admitted their "special-ness" to Karma. She was not alone in her elemental status. Fayth was of air, and Rayne was of Earth. They confessed that they learned their mother, Angel, was an air elemental and that while Karma was off running around in Amsterdam, the other two sisters were spending time practicing with their mother. This of course, was kept a secret from their father, Marcel.
Luckily, a year and a half later all three triplets are still living. Fayth is still saintly, Rayne is still surly, but Karma is "reformed." She tells her sisters she is off the bottle, off the needle, fine with being touched by men and strangers, that people no longer scare her. The funny thing is, she had told her lies so many times, she has almost begun to believe them herself, blocking out her sinful nights by day as she walks dogs and smiles at couples with new-born babies in the park.
Never-the-less, Karma now spends almost all of her spare time practicing her art, controlling water. She spends all of her spare time around or in the largest bodies of water she can find, content with her life only in those moments where she holds liquid in her palms, something not even her sisters can do.
* * * *
YOUR NAME:. Viper
EXPERIENCE:. Almost ten years.
CHARACTERS:. No one as of yet.
RP SAMPLE:.
The horizon was blue with the rising sun, its light softly caressed the stone buildings surrounding her. It gave them an eerie look, a look of mystery. Trailing along a crumbling wall of brick, Karma traced the disintegrating mortar, suddenly feeling as though she were a character in her beloved gothic novels. Perhaps she could be Jane Eyre, walking around Thornsfield, wondering what horrors would occur around Miss Poole next. Perhaps, she was simply contemplating whether or not to marry Mr. Rochester. If only Karma were so lucky. If only those were her worries. No, her worries consisted of whom was going to put food in hers and her sisters stomachs, were there any other survivors left in the United States, could she remain stable with this absence of narcotics? Her mind swirled millions of questions as she trudged forward, kicking rubble as she went.
Yawning, she suddenly yearned for coffee. They had some at camp, but it was in such scarce supply that it was seen as sacred. This of course meant that little no ones such as Karma Delacour didn't get to touch such beauty. In need of caffeine, or her beloved heroine, Karma began to tap the sides of her thighs as had become habit for her. The more she thought of being full of something, being high, the more rapid her tapping became. She hadn't realized it, but her slow pace had turned into more of a run as her craving worsened. A few times, Karma had ventured into the abandoned hospital looking for a quick fix, only to be thwarted by Rayne and Fayth. One of her fits ensued, of course. She knew her sisters only wanted to keep her sane and safe, but when actively denied that which she wanted to her core, Karma saw no reason, even from her most beloved relations.
The dawn began to awake birds and small animals as Karma was tortured with her thoughts. Sighing, she tried to erase thoughts of needles and Amsterdam. "Damn you, Katelyn," she whispered under her breath. Perhaps Karma should have been thankful to be alive, thankful that she was altered by the bombs, not destroyed, but most days, when she was alone, all she could focus on was the fact that she and her sisters and the rest of the clan were cut off from everyone and everything. She knew that had been left to die. Worst of all, she could have been living in Germany or Romania or Greece with her beloved Katelyn, but no. She had to betray her in the deepest way possible. It was because of her, because of one betrayal that the Delacour sisters lay rotting in the Manhattan debris.
At this point, Karma had long stopped walking. Her back was pressed up against a red brick wall, molding to its cracks and crevices. Her wrinkled blue t-shirt was dirty and smelled of the dozens of people she shared the subway with. All she wanted was a proper bath, with bubbles and candles. For the past three years, no matter how long she scrubbed, she had felt dirty. Maybe it was her surroundings, the filth and dilapidation of the city, blanketed still, three years later in ash white as snow. Maybe it was her cravings for sex and heroine that made her feel filthy. Perhaps it was simply a combination. Whatever the reason, she felt disgusting. Crossing her arms across her chest and rubbing her bare arms with her palms, Karma looked at the horizon, tears pricking her eyes from the blaring sun.
Yawning, she suddenly yearned for coffee. They had some at camp, but it was in such scarce supply that it was seen as sacred. This of course meant that little no ones such as Karma Delacour didn't get to touch such beauty. In need of caffeine, or her beloved heroine, Karma began to tap the sides of her thighs as had become habit for her. The more she thought of being full of something, being high, the more rapid her tapping became. She hadn't realized it, but her slow pace had turned into more of a run as her craving worsened. A few times, Karma had ventured into the abandoned hospital looking for a quick fix, only to be thwarted by Rayne and Fayth. One of her fits ensued, of course. She knew her sisters only wanted to keep her sane and safe, but when actively denied that which she wanted to her core, Karma saw no reason, even from her most beloved relations.
The dawn began to awake birds and small animals as Karma was tortured with her thoughts. Sighing, she tried to erase thoughts of needles and Amsterdam. "Damn you, Katelyn," she whispered under her breath. Perhaps Karma should have been thankful to be alive, thankful that she was altered by the bombs, not destroyed, but most days, when she was alone, all she could focus on was the fact that she and her sisters and the rest of the clan were cut off from everyone and everything. She knew that had been left to die. Worst of all, she could have been living in Germany or Romania or Greece with her beloved Katelyn, but no. She had to betray her in the deepest way possible. It was because of her, because of one betrayal that the Delacour sisters lay rotting in the Manhattan debris.
At this point, Karma had long stopped walking. Her back was pressed up against a red brick wall, molding to its cracks and crevices. Her wrinkled blue t-shirt was dirty and smelled of the dozens of people she shared the subway with. All she wanted was a proper bath, with bubbles and candles. For the past three years, no matter how long she scrubbed, she had felt dirty. Maybe it was her surroundings, the filth and dilapidation of the city, blanketed still, three years later in ash white as snow. Maybe it was her cravings for sex and heroine that made her feel filthy. Perhaps it was simply a combination. Whatever the reason, she felt disgusting. Crossing her arms across her chest and rubbing her bare arms with her palms, Karma looked at the horizon, tears pricking her eyes from the blaring sun.
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