Post by blackbird00 on Oct 17, 2019 22:53:23 GMT
Name: Araceli
Species: Nearly Forgotten
Age at Death: 19
Age: 105
Height: 5'3
Weight: 15.4 lbs
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Physical Appearance:
There's no soft way to say it.
Araceli is a skeleton.
Her bones are dulled, off-yellow, like those of a very old, very ancient skeleton. Her left ulna and radius are badly broken, held together with several thick layers of duct tape. In fact, a decent amount of her is duct tape: her right femur is thickly layered, as well as her left and right tibias. Considering the rest of her, her clothing is not much of a surprise. A red short-sleeved t-shirt, threadbare and with a tear on the stomach that reveals a pair of missing ribs. Her jeans are in marginally better shape--how they stay up on her hips, even she doesn't know--but they are unraveled and frayed at the hems. She has tattered black tennis shoes, the white bottoms almost detached, and the shoelaces frayed.
Her black wig, though, is well taken care of. She takes the time needed to brush it out, even if it is a bit messy, preferring hers and not getting a new one, this one the closest she has found to what she had in life. She has brown eyes, eyelids black such that, when she blinks, it looks like her eye sockets are empty. Her teeth are in surprisingly good shape, although she is missing a back bottom molar on the right. Her skull is definitely the most intricate part of her, little dots indented beneath her eye sockets.
Standing at 5'3", she's not particularly tall. And, until she speaks, it's in fact hard to tell that she's a woman at all. Her hips are just a little bit wider than a man's skeleton, but for the most part being a skeleton leaves her fairly androgynous. The upper half of a pale-gold fleur-de-lis rises from between her eyes, and a whole one sits upside down on her chin. Fragile, elegant, pale silver swirls unfold along her cheekbones.
Personality:
Araceli feels, and she feels hard.
When Araceli is happy, everyone knows it. She sings and dances around, more often than not pulls out one of her instruments and puts on an impromptu performance. Honestly, she's up for a performance any time, place, or mood. But her best performances are when she is happy (well, ecstatic, she is never just happy), she can pull out all the stops. Sing and dance, and throw her body parts around, yell grito after grito and try and draw her audience in with her.
When she is sad, though, she tries to hide it. Years of nearing being Forgotten have left her good at hiding her hurt, at pretending to be happy and cheerful and optimistic. She is, optimistic that is, but not always. Generally, one can tell by the music she plays, as she'll often seclude herself to play a more sorrowful song. Only, however, after throwing herself out and putting on a cheerful performance, and only if it fails.
Species: Nearly Forgotten
Age at Death: 19
Age: 105
Height: 5'3
Weight: 15.4 lbs
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Physical Appearance:
There's no soft way to say it.
Araceli is a skeleton.
Her bones are dulled, off-yellow, like those of a very old, very ancient skeleton. Her left ulna and radius are badly broken, held together with several thick layers of duct tape. In fact, a decent amount of her is duct tape: her right femur is thickly layered, as well as her left and right tibias. Considering the rest of her, her clothing is not much of a surprise. A red short-sleeved t-shirt, threadbare and with a tear on the stomach that reveals a pair of missing ribs. Her jeans are in marginally better shape--how they stay up on her hips, even she doesn't know--but they are unraveled and frayed at the hems. She has tattered black tennis shoes, the white bottoms almost detached, and the shoelaces frayed.
Her black wig, though, is well taken care of. She takes the time needed to brush it out, even if it is a bit messy, preferring hers and not getting a new one, this one the closest she has found to what she had in life. She has brown eyes, eyelids black such that, when she blinks, it looks like her eye sockets are empty. Her teeth are in surprisingly good shape, although she is missing a back bottom molar on the right. Her skull is definitely the most intricate part of her, little dots indented beneath her eye sockets.
Standing at 5'3", she's not particularly tall. And, until she speaks, it's in fact hard to tell that she's a woman at all. Her hips are just a little bit wider than a man's skeleton, but for the most part being a skeleton leaves her fairly androgynous. The upper half of a pale-gold fleur-de-lis rises from between her eyes, and a whole one sits upside down on her chin. Fragile, elegant, pale silver swirls unfold along her cheekbones.
Personality:
Araceli feels, and she feels hard.
When Araceli is happy, everyone knows it. She sings and dances around, more often than not pulls out one of her instruments and puts on an impromptu performance. Honestly, she's up for a performance any time, place, or mood. But her best performances are when she is happy (well, ecstatic, she is never just happy), she can pull out all the stops. Sing and dance, and throw her body parts around, yell grito after grito and try and draw her audience in with her.
When she is sad, though, she tries to hide it. Years of nearing being Forgotten have left her good at hiding her hurt, at pretending to be happy and cheerful and optimistic. She is, optimistic that is, but not always. Generally, one can tell by the music she plays, as she'll often seclude herself to play a more sorrowful song. Only, however, after throwing herself out and putting on a cheerful performance, and only if it fails.
