Rockette

The Spirits Within: Oakridge Chronicles

How's the rest of you peaches doing? Been quite barren here lately.

[ ♕ ] - c o l l i d e. // smoke & gasoline.

a l e x i a f i t c h.

^{i think there's a flaw in my code. these voices won't leave me alone.}
[ ♚ ]

^{Dreamer ◆ Detached ◆ Addict ◆ Prostitute - retired. ◆ Sinner and The Sin.}

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_{[ ♚ ] F E A R S / P H O B I A S}

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Abandonment Complex, Drowning, Nyctophobia.

_{[ ♚ ] A P P E A R A N C E}

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Every impression of Alexia is waterlogged and deluded, as if drowned and suspended in a eternal fixation of being dampened and haggard. Deepened and hidden beneath her exterior though is the glimmer of the woman that exists, the crippling creature of the Sin with a slender face, pooling down to a waif form of pallid, bitten skin and compiled into the slight height of five-three; boots and all. Her debut hosts intense eyes of blue, broken and fractured, with the lingering touches of sparkling interest that foretells of a childhood of dreams and wonder, but has become long accosted by tragedy and woe. Alexia's penchant for dark clothing that swallows her frame has become universally trademark, mostly by the shield of one particular jacket: threadbare and ebony, and usually framed with waterlogged rosewood tresses that cut over her brow and wave chaotically past too-thin shoulder blades. If not for the deceptively charming, bow shaped mouth of her always impaled with a cigarette of clove, her smile would be endearing, if not described as woefully tragic. Her only saving grace.

_{[ ♚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y / H I S T O R Y}

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Alexia was, has, always been one of many crippled by The Badlands and all who associate within the spires. She frequents every district, every party hosted by accomplices of Sin, and once upon a time frequented their beds just as much. Plummeting to a near early death, she reaped her own heart and emotions, finding solace beyond drink and found love and devotion in euphoric drugs. Her dependencies of narcotics and numbing trends has severely damaged her psyche, seeing to her retirement from peddling flesh, and instead saw her to become indebted to her providers. Her detachment of reality provides a protective nature, the ability to perform through the motions, the shell of a dreamer waning in place that once was ridiculed for dark devil antics. Alexia, like many, was a former orphan of the St. Patricks Church that marks the beginning of the North District and where many of the sinners congregate to confess, and then to turn to pillage with Sin once again. The orphanage is all gleaming polish and warmth, with a darker underbelly of depression and depravity, and where enigmas akin to Alexia grew and festered until released from the bindings of the mock-saints.

She's emotionally unstable, undone by her dependencies and drowns beneath her own states of critical anxiety and complex that brings an irrational fear of separation and abandonment. If not for her ritual intake to numb her soul, Alexia would have plunged herself far over the ways of the Hopeless, despite all fears of drowning in the dark.

_{[ ♚ ] K E Y F I G U R E S}

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♦ danny stonem.

The dark prince of The Badlands; any and all know his name and his Sin. Being the sole provider of Alexia's need in sweet candies and promises, the two individuals communicate regularly, hinting to a deeper bond of association that various amounts of their peers have speculated on. But lack of evidence and testimony has seen the pair to be coloured in lights of wonder and curiosity instead. Danny is the only known person to call her Alex as well, if not some other pet name of endearment. Despite being her dealer, he wields a soft spot due to their connected past, both having been brought up in the lies of St. Patrick's Church and living in the Eastern District. Whilst fond of another, Danny has a terrible notion to keep Alexia on a leash of sorts, propelling her dependency on him further and nurturing her downward spiral and complex of anxiety and abandonment.

♦ st. patrick.

The false priest of the Church in the Northern District; he offers confession, solace and comfort and in turn peddles out offers of Sin and flesh. He operates the orphanage which saw both Alexia and Danny to and from his doors, raised by his guiding hand and the influence of his father, in which he inherited the Church from at a young age. Though having seen Alexia to her own place in The Badlands, Patrick is known to frequent her doors, calling her on a rate based on obsession and was the initial introduction in her former years of prostitution. Patrick remains as a chain on Alexia's soul and spirit, despite all attempts on severing the link by herself and even Danny. To him, she owes him her life and that includes every intricacy and posession therein.

[ ♕ ] - c o l l i d e. // smoke & gasoline.

I had thought of a template, but nothing concrete. Seeing how most of my musings and notes on Alexia are notes and conceptual pieces of her history and personality. I glanced over what you have, so I'll probably mimic the order of things.

Alex is still coming together for me in my head, kind of like I keep seeing glimpses of her when I write down minimal ideas. Honestly I feel like through IC she might come out differently than I originally intended, but it's all the more exciting when a character "writes themselves" - in a way that coincides with The Badlands. In the post I have drawn up, I know she'll see Cadian and feel the music, but Danny is a constant, terrible figure in her life, so it won't last long. But Danny is well known anywhere and everywhere, with connections to anyone. We'll establish the relationship and connections when we get to them.

Hm, then I definitely suggest it's reserved for the third scene, since I plan another visit to Passion for Alexia. The party could be held in the upper districts of The Badlands or in one of the many warehouses in the city. The setting isn't so important as the people within it. But I love the potential of them finding one another but unaware, promotes mystery and wonder, a purpose of an inquiry why she feels an immediate connection and draw to a stranger gilded within a mask.

So, for the moment I'll put together my musings and notes for Alexia, and Danny as well. At least to give him a face and a minor summary of his supporting role.

The Spirits Within: Oakridge Chronicles

@Hexaflexagon - Least you're not dying in the infernal grip of Summer.

The Spirits Within: Oakridge Chronicles

Since the sheet is on the previous page, post it again here in a hider and @tag Priskins in it so she'll see it when she wakes up. That way it's easier to look it over and won't be missed.

The Spirits Within: Oakridge Chronicles

Huehue, I want to see some drama!

@ZB1996 - I haven't had the chance to read it yet, but like Priskins said, so long as you don't kill everyone, you're all peaches!

The Spirits Within: Oakridge Chronicles

@icmasticc - Oh my god, like, no way! That's crazy, who knew my style could be mimicked? I'm appalled! You better hurry up and reply to her then because who knows how crazy she might get if she writes like me!

The Spirits Within: Oakridge Chronicles

@ZB1996 - Oh, you're bringing them to the Reactor? I'd love to hear what ideas you have; nothing I love more than interconnecting sub-plots in these characters!

@Archangel89 - Looks good thus far, can't wait to see him completed.

Update on my end: my weekend as been a bit taxing, despite my days off, my personal life has been swelling into a pressing load. But I'll be resuming my banner work tonight when I'm finally home, luckily I have all the pictures cut and cleaned, just need to slap them with backgrounds, textures and effects.

Monika's post is being worked into a collaboration - just waiting on someone ~ to respond!
If anything I'll post a filler deal for Ollie's father, Julian, he needs a little spot light.

[ ♕ ] - c o l l i d e. // smoke & gasoline.

[ ♕ ] - c o l l i d e. // smoke & gasoline.

_{i dreamed that love would never die.}
^{now life has killed the dream that i dreamed.}

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Twisting, falling, plummeting, never ceasing, never slowing - too fast, too quick - destructive speeds and failing catches against the bedrock. Rain slick roads, smog choked alleys, and neon signs flickering in the gloom, The Badlands won't let them go, it's a cruel master, a terrifying mother, a sadistic mistress and a smiling executioner. They're bastards of the underground, orphans of the church and victims of the sin and the sinner, the spires glow and the people go, never figuring to inquire why, how, and where do they go. The Badlands is Home, in all the pain, agony, the fresh wounds, the nicotine stained teeth and lips, the blackened lungs and the poison kisses of each smile. The children suffer, the adults wane, the adolescents are the only ones who seem to thrive. They've given their innocence to The Badlands, and laugh gleefully with bodies flush, arms taut, and throats raw from their cries and songs. The Badlands even takes that happiness, in cost and exchange for soul and heart, leaving no room for hope, dreams, life, and ambition - love.

Until they met.

[ ♕ ]