#they all grew up in a religious home where no doubt being anything but cis and straight would be looked down upon

[derelictdumbass]

Thinking about how the Seeds relationships with Dean could be taken as an act of defiance against how they were raised and a way for them to break out of that restraint and accept the trauma they went through and move forward from it.

[evanity]

;biography

name — Vanity, Emma faceclaim — Lily James  age — 25 gender — Cis-female. Women who would fan themselves endlessly while sipping her mother’s 5 o’clock tea would say female as if it were a barrier. They would point out that she was a lady, and that therefore, she should keep her back straightened, she should brush her hair, she should never say that word again out loud. Yet, her parents never asked Emma to put on a skirt because the Rowles are visiting. They never treated her like a little bird, like a future bride in training that they would marry off as soon as graduation. Her father had many faults, but never did he force Emma into the thin, cage-shaped stereotype that was female in their society. She was his heir. She learned to ride winged horses at ten years old. She was taken to saloons where men drank firewhiskey and talked business at fourteen. She wasn’t scolded after stealing her father’s cigars one summer at fifteen — she couldn’t escape getting enrolled among the Death Eaters as she turned seventeen. Therefore, Emma is a cis female, but the definition her parents taught her differs from the one used by her childhood friends.

sexuality — Pansexual. Her sexuality seeks personality more than anything else. She’s attracted to all those with a fire within, who inspire her to be worse, who make her laugh, who have something to say. Obsessive yet easy-going, she falls in love quickly and gives up hard. Whatever makes her heart beat change has claim over the said heart forever.

patronus — The memories she has lived are sprinkled with sheer happiness. Getting drunk and swimming in the Black Lake at midnight, winning the Inter-House Quidditch Cup while being Captain, getting a hundred galleons at the lottery all made her smile spread all the way to her ears, but nothing filled her whole heart with joy. She hasn’t even properly lived, in her opinion. Casting a patronus is a sensitive subject for a witch who always wanted to be first at everything, but finds it difficult to convert happiness into magic. However, if she were able to conjure a patronus, it would undoubtedly be a winged horse, namely an Abraxan Winged Horse. Abraxan Winged Horse - A breed of winged horse, gigantic in size and extremely powerful. They are selective eaters and usually require forceful handling. As a Patronus, they represent power, determination, and a free spirit.

boggart — This would be easier. In the past years, she ran on fear rather than happiness as fuel. These days, it would definitely be her father returned from Azkaban. She fears what life path he desires for her. She fears that disappointed look on his face when he notices her disgust for everything the war and the Dark Lord stand for. She fears the mental image of him destroyed by a soul-shattering prison, and, in few words, she fears him no matter if he dies in Azkaban, if he returns to make a Death Eater out of her again or if he returns to kill her for treason.

IC In Depth

personality traits —

(ambitious:) While other people have hobbies and interests, Emma’s only passion is overachieving. She became Quidditch team Captain seeking a title to differentiate herself from her mates. She learned to throw a Quaffle because someone implied she couldn’t, in the first place. Her collection of diplomas, piled up like fallen leaves in autumn, doesn’t matter for anything but her own ego, entirely fed by a lifetime of chasing after small prizes and insignificant victories. Nothing attracts her like winning, like coming on top, whether it’s about schoolwork, about silly bets or her own life choices. She has done questionable things to land on top before, only out of pride. Despite being passive in matters of blood purity and being too comfortable to actually want to fight a war (especially on the losing side), her ambition served as sole motivation to keep going, following her father’s wish to fight for the Dark Lord and make something out of a family name that hasn’t sat next to something worthy of pride in too long.

(fickle:) Easily convinced to doubt even the steps she takes on the ground, she questions everything, all the more herself, and is ready to turn on her heels and walk in the other direction at the first glare from someone else. Persuasion has her mind on strings, toying with it at free will, and Emma wouldn’t even notice, under the spell of every person who influences her in any way. Encouraged by peer pressure and naturally inclined to struggle until everyone liked her, she is often remembered by her worst, most impulsive decisions, executed because someone thought it would be funny. More importantly, her father’s aspirations for her left a permanent mark on her forearm, and she had no power fighting that decision.

(free-spirited:) While taking every piece of advice religiously, worrying that everyone’s mind but her own saw bigger truths that she was missing, she loves being in charge of her afternoons. She doesn’t want to be told what to do — not out loud and not consciously — because the peace and the quiet are her most comfortable state of being. She craves adventures and untied, tangled hair, spontaneous dips in stranger lakes and kisses from people she doesn’t know the name of. She despises cages and has a predisposition towards flying — be it on a broom or her favorite winged horse. Emma seldom knows what to do, what path to take and whether to trust her own mind or not — but she would rather cope with her uncertainties without having so many questions to answer and so many responsibilities no one ever wished for.

(chaotic:) An agitated daughter turned into a radioactive teenager turned into a messy young adult. Emma doesn’t know how to stand still, like she doesn’t know the first thing about order and stability. She learned how to run long before she could walk, and that shows in her behavior everyday. Wrong decisions made in the spur of the moment tie with some sort of natural, charming clumsiness — and these describe her to the last comma. She talks too much and most of her sentences don’t have an ending, because she never stops spinning infinitive ideas back and forth in her mind.

character biography —

Perhaps out of lack of blue blood in her veins, Emma never quite fit in according to the pureblooded standards. Her mother was thought to give birth to a boy up until the first time Emma opened her eyes for the first time towards the world. Due to health complications, it was said that she would never give birth again, let alone to a son.  It took his father a bit to adjust and accept the imminence of not having a heir to pass on quite everything to, but he never loved Emma any less. He couldn’t have his own blood even if it spat in his face — but Emma wouldn’t gamble on that. The toddler with curious eyes never cried a day, with a childhood surrounded by majestic winged horses and an aunt that sang in the Leaky Cauldron, surrounded by pinkness and a loving family that, despite being preoccupied by tradition, never resented Emma for simply being born.

And so the child who tripped in ballet classes and couldn’t remember the word for anything, having to ask her mother, grew taller and taller everyday, as if warmth alone lifted her up. Despite not being a skilled pianist or a talented dancer, she excelled in the third most pureblooded occupation there was. When on a horse, nothing stopped her. Emma would often be scolded by a worried mother or by a half-amused father for speed, but she agreed she’d never slow down. Every chance to hop on a winged horse and ride was a chance to exceed her last speed record, and so she became competitive — by being in constant competition with herself.

Terrified to go to Hogwarts, as she feared she has never slept before without her mother’s daily kiss on her forehead, she learned that she loves large amounts of company quite soon. She would talk and talk for hours if she had someone to talk to, and strangers were her favorite interlocutors. For that, she made both friends and enemies, those who liked her guts and humor not necessarily exceeding those who wouldn’t find anyone more annoying than Emma Vanity. Still, her priority has always been to have fun, and her friends were grateful to have around someone as lovely, gullible and foolish as her. Quidditch was her biggest achievement, despite being a sport she didn’t have a passion for particularly. It just mirrored horse-riding enough to make her not miss home so much, so often. And the fact that it implied the biggest competition Hogwarts had to offer interested her even more. She became a Captain in her third year and was known not for being the most talented player rather the one who would never give up.

When the child with curious eyes turned into the teenager with desperate eyes, it was as if nothing could stop her anymore. Driven by endless ambition and no drop of shame, she was the only girl in her year who treated boys she liked as if they were the girl. Norms have never applied to her and she decided it was best if the boys feared her instead of the other way around. Never did Emma hesitate before asking somebody out on a Hogsmeade trip, but, for that, she encountered with a fair amount of rejection. Emma was unlike the rest of the pureblooded girls  —  not delicate, not sheepish, not elegant, not mannered  — and she was unlike the other girls, but somewhere in the middle, she was sweet; like corn instead of candy. She didn’t fear labels from jealous wixen, she would argue with anyone spreading rumors… or even telling the truth about her, and conflict was never something she shuddered at the thought of. Until her father’s opinions concerning her became a problem.

Upon finishing school, she had no direction. Hogwarts, her friends, her team and even the dramas have been the entirety of her life for years, and now she didn’t want to become an adult. Yet, Mr. Vanity had big hopes regarding his daughter. As a supporter of Voldemort who didn’t stand out in any way: not being rich enough, not respected enough and certainly not having the strongest wand, he wanted to do anything to get in the Dark Lord’s good graces and it did flatter Emma that he immediately considered enrolling her. Except for the fact that Emma never wanted to fight to begin with. The cause itself preoccupied her less, even though something in her chest made her feel as if it wasn’t exactly right. Still, she complied with half a heart, only out of fear not to let down her father, who never wronged her in any way despite having many reasons to treat her as harshly as other fathers treated kids her age.

It was a relief when the Dark Lord vanished, and she was ready to take it without questioning whether it is a good or permanent thing. The only thing that mattered was that she was no longer a toy in somebody’s big hands and that the strings got cut off entirely. Her tattoo bothered her, but not enough to stop her from living a life filled with things that used to bring her joy before. It was going to take a while to rediscover them, but she was hopeful, for the first time. But that was before the aurors knocked on their door to arrest his father, letting her think she would be next. That didn’t happen, but the thought of her own father sitting blankly in an Azkaban cell made her skin itch and her head ache. She wanted him saved, but at the same time, she wanted her freedom too. Out of lack of skills regarding solving inner conflicts, she decided not to think much about that one. Still, even now that her wings are untied, she doesn’t know what to do with that freedom in the slightest.

plot ideas —

i. BLACKMAIL. People know of the mark underneath her robes. The long sleeves aren’t fooling anyone and the summertime catches her too distracted and entertained not to strip to skin with every occasion. Therefore, her prior alliance isn’t a whisper on a dark street, rather than the bitter truth she still didn’t gather up courage to swallow. The blackmail would have more to do with her official betrayal. Maybe she slipped in front of another Death Eater and confessed what is in her heart regarding the Dark Lord and her father’s say in her involvement, maybe someone observant enough read straight through her. What’s certain is that someone is using her weakness to threaten her into imminent death for her unofficial betrayal. Whether she knows this person’s identity or not, it’s open to interpretations.

ii. SPEAK NOW. It’s implied that Emma and Reginald, Mary’s husband, were romantically involved. Even if this were completely one-sided and if Emma was the only one to grow feelings for the other young man, it’s irrelevant in light of how she sees it. She sees it as a love story, beginning, middle and ending. No amount of cold water would help her wake up from the delusion that her friend — her good friend — led her on. The news about Reg’s marriage to Mary came in like a hurricane. Despite all that, it felt like a masterful idea at the time to interrupt their ceremony and voice her concern. She made a fool out of herself for this impulsive moment of unasked for truth. People still whisper about crazy Emma to this day and no hole is deep enough for her to hide whenever that particular memory resurfaces, but she’s learned to live with all of her collection of mistakes, no matter how sharp they still dig into their mind.

iii. PARTY GIRLS DON’T GET HURT. No one can brag about as many blunders as Emma, and her Hogwarts times are the golden ages of that. With a tendency to be the target of everyone’s laughter, it would only make sense that people in her generation wouldn’t think too highly of her, still remembering the girl who always tripped over her own feet after a couple of butterbeers. This plot bunny includes both people she used to be good friends with (but since adolescence is not a light summer’s breeze, they would have either fought passionately or fallen apart) and people who can’t help but scoff at the mention of her name. She wouldn’t necessarily be popular, but, as a dramatic and social person, it would only be natural that she made both pals and enemies at the age of sixteen.

iv. THE CLOAKED MEN. With a history of being on the wrong side of the previous war, aurors panic the hell out of Emma. She avoids them as if she has something to hide, but truth is, she just doesn’t want to end up where her father is. I would like a suspicious auror to seek her company purposefully and make her nervous in hopes of maybe learning something new about the Death Eaters. Getting under Emma Vanity’s skin is easier than ever when she is sweating and trying to nervously smile through that.

v. REDEMPTION. Maybe someone wants to fool Emma (see: possibly linked with the fourth plot bunny as well), maybe they want her to be well. What’s for sure is that someone is suddenly dragging her towards the light side — and she swings in between certainties without appearing to make up her mind any time soon. The promise of a clean future and better, less scary company is difficult to weigh in when, on the other side, her father’s disapproving eyes blink, in a frown, at her.

[alternislatronemhq]

Congrats, RALUCA, you have been accepted to AL for the role of EMMA VANITY (FC: Lily James). Wow, your app was TRULY fantastic! I was hanging on to every word, loving each bit. You’ve flushed Emma out in such a beautiful way, and I for one cannot wait to see how she progresses in this plot! Really well done, I’m so excited you’re here! Please send in your blog (no sideblogs for first characters, please) in the next 24 hours and be sure to take a look at our new player checklist. Welcome home (once again), we’re so excited to have you join the family!

OOC

name — raluca age — 20, but i’m turning 21 on the 15th of july pronouns — she/her/hers timezone — gmt+2

IC Overview

name — Vanity, Emma faceclaim — Lily James  age — 25 gender — Cis-female. Women who would fan themselves endlessly while sipping her mother’s 5 o’clock tea would say female as if it were a barrier. They would point out that she was a lady, and that therefore, she should keep her back straightened, she should brush her hair, she should never say that word again out loud. Yet, her parents never asked Emma to put on a skirt because the Rowles are visiting. They never treated her like a little bird, like a future bride in training that they would marry off as soon as graduation. Her father had many faults, but never did he force Emma into the thin, cage-shaped stereotype that was female in their society. She was his heir. She learned to ride winged horses at ten years old. She was taken to saloons where men drank firewhiskey and talked business at fourteen. She wasn’t scolded after stealing her father’s cigars one summer at fifteen — she couldn’t escape getting enrolled among the Death Eaters as she turned seventeen. Therefore, Emma is a cis female, but the definition her parents taught her differs from the one used by her childhood friends.

sexuality — Pansexual. Her sexuality seeks personality more than anything else. She’s attracted to all those with a fire within, who inspire her to be worse, who make her laugh, who have something to say. Obsessive yet easy-going, she falls in love quickly and gives up hard. Whatever makes her heart beat change has claim over the said heart forever.

patronus — The memories she has lived are sprinkled with sheer happiness. Getting drunk and swimming in the Black Lake at midnight, winning the Inter-House Quidditch Cup while being Captain, getting a hundred galleons at the lottery all made her smile spread all the way to her ears, but nothing filled her whole heart with joy. She hasn’t even properly lived, in her opinion. Casting a patronus is a sensitive subject for a witch who always wanted to be first at everything, but finds it difficult to convert happiness into magic. However, if she were able to conjure a patronus, it would undoubtedly be a winged horse, namely an Abraxan Winged Horse. Abraxan Winged Horse - A breed of winged horse, gigantic in size and extremely powerful. They are selective eaters and usually require forceful handling. As a Patronus, they represent power, determination, and a free spirit.

boggart — This would be easier. In the past years, she ran on fear rather than happiness as fuel. These days, it would definitely be her father returned from Azkaban. She fears what life path he desires for her. She fears that disappointed look on his face when he notices her disgust for everything the war and the Dark Lord stand for. She fears the mental image of him destroyed by a soul-shattering prison, and, in few words, she fears him no matter if he dies in Azkaban, if he returns to make a Death Eater out of her again or if he returns to kill her for treason.

IC In Depth

personality traits —

(ambitious:) While other people have hobbies and interests, Emma’s only passion is overachieving. She became Quidditch team Captain seeking a title to differentiate herself from her mates. She learned to throw a Quaffle because someone implied she couldn’t, in the first place. Her collection of diplomas, piled up like fallen leaves in autumn, doesn’t matter for anything but her own ego, entirely fed by a lifetime of chasing after small prizes and insignificant victories. Nothing attracts her like winning, like coming on top, whether it’s about schoolwork, about silly bets or her own life choices. She has done questionable things to land on top before, only out of pride. Despite being passive in matters of blood purity and being too comfortable to actually want to fight a war (especially on the losing side), her ambition served as sole motivation to keep going, following her father’s wish to fight for the Dark Lord and make something out of a family name that hasn’t sat next to something worthy of pride in too long.

(fickle:) Easily convinced to doubt even the steps she takes on the ground, she questions everything, all the more herself, and is ready to turn on her heels and walk in the other direction at the first glare from someone else. Persuasion has her mind on strings, toying with it at free will, and Emma wouldn’t even notice, under the spell of every person who influences her in any way. Encouraged by peer pressure and naturally inclined to struggle until everyone liked her, she is often remembered by her worst, most impulsive decisions, executed because someone thought it would be funny. More importantly, her father’s aspirations for her left a permanent mark on her forearm, and she had no power fighting that decision.

(free-spirited:) While taking every piece of advice religiously, worrying that everyone’s mind but her own saw bigger truths that she was missing, she loves being in charge of her afternoons. She doesn’t want to be told what to do — not out loud and not consciously — because the peace and the quiet are her most comfortable state of being. She craves adventures and untied, tangled hair, spontaneous dips in stranger lakes and kisses from people she doesn’t know the name of. She despises cages and has a predisposition towards flying — be it on a broom or her favorite winged horse. Emma seldom knows what to do, what path to take and whether to trust her own mind or not — but she would rather cope with her uncertainties without having so many questions to answer and so many responsibilities no one ever wished for.

(chaotic:) An agitated daughter turned into a radioactive teenager turned into a messy young adult. Emma doesn’t know how to stand still, like she doesn’t know the first thing about order and stability. She learned how to run long before she could walk, and that shows in her behavior everyday. Wrong decisions made in the spur of the moment tie with some sort of natural, charming clumsiness — and these describe her to the last comma. She talks too much and most of her sentences don’t have an ending, because she never stops spinning infinitive ideas back and forth in her mind.

character biography —

Perhaps out of lack of blue blood in her veins, Emma never quite fit in according to the pureblooded standards. Her mother was thought to give birth to a boy up until the first time Emma opened her eyes for the first time towards the world. Due to health complications, it was said that she would never give birth again, let alone to a son.  It took his father a bit to adjust and accept the imminence of not having a heir to pass on quite everything to, but he never loved Emma any less. He couldn’t have his own blood even if it spat in his face — but Emma wouldn’t gamble on that. The toddler with curious eyes never cried a day, with a childhood surrounded by majestic winged horses and an aunt that sang in the Leaky Cauldron, surrounded by pinkness and a loving family that, despite being preoccupied by tradition, never resented Emma for simply being born.

And so the child who tripped in ballet classes and couldn’t remember the word for anything, having to ask her mother, grew taller and taller everyday, as if warmth alone lifted her up. Despite not being a skilled pianist or a talented dancer, she excelled in the third most pureblooded occupation there was. When on a horse, nothing stopped her. Emma would often be scolded by a worried mother or by a half-amused father for speed, but she agreed she’d never slow down. Every chance to hop on a winged horse and ride was a chance to exceed her last speed record, and so she became competitive — by being in constant competition with herself.

Terrified to go to Hogwarts, as she feared she has never slept before without her mother’s daily kiss on her forehead, she learned that she loves large amounts of company quite soon. She would talk and talk for hours if she had someone to talk to, and strangers were her favorite interlocutors. For that, she made both friends and enemies, those who liked her guts and humor not necessarily exceeding those who wouldn’t find anyone more annoying than Emma Vanity. Still, her priority has always been to have fun, and her friends were grateful to have around someone as lovely, gullible and foolish as her. Quidditch was her biggest achievement, despite being a sport she didn’t have a passion for particularly. It just mirrored horse-riding enough to make her not miss home so much, so often. And the fact that it implied the biggest competition Hogwarts had to offer interested her even more. She became a Captain in her third year and was known not for being the most talented player rather the one who would never give up.

When the child with curious eyes turned into the teenager with desperate eyes, it was as if nothing could stop her anymore. Driven by endless ambition and no drop of shame, she was the only girl in her year who treated boys she liked as if they were the girl. Norms have never applied to her and she decided it was best if the boys feared her instead of the other way around. Never did Emma hesitate before asking somebody out on a Hogsmeade trip, but, for that, she encountered with a fair amount of rejection. Emma was unlike the rest of the pureblooded girls  —  not delicate, not sheepish, not elegant, not mannered  — and she was unlike the other girls, but somewhere in the middle, she was sweet; like corn instead of candy. She didn’t fear labels from jealous wixen, she would argue with anyone spreading rumors… or even telling the truth about her, and conflict was never something she shuddered at the thought of. Until her father’s opinions concerning her became a problem.

Upon finishing school, she had no direction. Hogwarts, her friends, her team and even the dramas have been the entirety of her life for years, and now she didn’t want to become an adult. Yet, Mr. Vanity had big hopes regarding his daughter. As a supporter of Voldemort who didn’t stand out in any way: not being rich enough, not respected enough and certainly not having the strongest wand, he wanted to do anything to get in the Dark Lord’s good graces and it did flatter Emma that he immediately considered enrolling her. Except for the fact that Emma never wanted to fight to begin with. The cause itself preoccupied her less, even though something in her chest made her feel as if it wasn’t exactly right. Still, she complied with half a heart, only out of fear not to let down her father, who never wronged her in any way despite having many reasons to treat her as harshly as other fathers treated kids her age.

It was a relief when the Dark Lord vanished, and she was ready to take it without questioning whether it is a good or permanent thing. The only thing that mattered was that she was no longer a toy in somebody’s big hands and that the strings got cut off entirely. Her tattoo bothered her, but not enough to stop her from living a life filled with things that used to bring her joy before. It was going to take a while to rediscover them, but she was hopeful, for the first time. But that was before the aurors knocked on their door to arrest his father, letting her think she would be next. That didn’t happen, but the thought of her own father sitting blankly in an Azkaban cell made her skin itch and her head ache. She wanted him saved, but at the same time, she wanted her freedom too. Out of lack of skills regarding solving inner conflicts, she decided not to think much about that one. Still, even now that her wings are untied, she doesn’t know what to do with that freedom in the slightest.

plot ideas —

i. BLACKMAIL. People know of the mark underneath her robes. The long sleeves aren’t fooling anyone and the summertime catches her too distracted and entertained not to strip to skin with every occasion. Therefore, her prior alliance isn’t a whisper on a dark street, rather than the bitter truth she still didn’t gather up courage to swallow. The blackmail would have more to do with her official betrayal. Maybe she slipped in front of another Death Eater and confessed what is in her heart regarding the Dark Lord and her father’s say in her involvement, maybe someone observant enough read straight through her. What’s certain is that someone is using her weakness to threaten her into imminent death for her unofficial betrayal. Whether she knows this person’s identity or not, it’s open to interpretations.

ii. SPEAK NOW. It’s implied that Emma and Reginald, Mary’s husband, were romantically involved. Even if this were completely one-sided and if Emma was the only one to grow feelings for the other young man, it’s irrelevant in light of how she sees it. She sees it as a love story, beginning, middle and ending. No amount of cold water would help her wake up from the delusion that her friend — her good friend — led her on. The news about Reg’s marriage to Mary came in like a hurricane. Despite all that, it felt like a masterful idea at the time to interrupt their ceremony and voice her concern. She made a fool out of herself for this impulsive moment of unasked for truth. People still whisper about crazy Emma to this day and no hole is deep enough for her to hide whenever that particular memory resurfaces, but she’s learned to live with all of her collection of mistakes, no matter how sharp they still dig into their mind.

iii. PARTY GIRLS DON’T GET HURT. No one can brag about as many blunders as Emma, and her Hogwarts times are the golden ages of that. With a tendency to be the target of everyone’s laughter, it would only make sense that people in her generation wouldn’t think too highly of her, still remembering the girl who always tripped over her own feet after a couple of butterbeers. This plot bunny includes both people she used to be good friends with (but since adolescence is not a light summer’s breeze, they would have either fought passionately or fallen apart) and people who can’t help but scoff at the mention of her name. She wouldn’t necessarily be popular, but, as a dramatic and social person, it would only be natural that she made both pals and enemies at the age of sixteen.

iv. THE CLOAKED MEN. With a history of being on the wrong side of the previous war, aurors panic the hell out of Emma. She avoids them as if she has something to hide, but truth is, she just doesn’t want to end up where her father is. I would like a suspicious auror to seek her company purposefully and make her nervous in hopes of maybe learning something new about the Death Eaters. Getting under Emma Vanity’s skin is easier than ever when she is sweating and trying to nervously smile through that.

v. REDEMPTION. Maybe someone wants to fool Emma (see: possibly linked with the fourth plot bunny as well), maybe they want her to be well. What’s for sure is that someone is suddenly dragging her towards the light side — and she swings in between certainties without appearing to make up her mind any time soon. The promise of a clean future and better, less scary company is difficult to weigh in when, on the other side, her father’s disapproving eyes blink, in a frown, at her.

extra — I just feel like these grow from muse. I like doing edits (albeit not currently owning photoshop since I just bought a new laptop and don’t have anything on it), I think in songs and nothing’s as inspirational as a good quote, but forcing it would mean ruining it. But worry not, I will post, without spamming, plenty of those if I do get accepted.

[ariaparish]

CHARACTER SHEET

repost, don’t reblog !

BASICS !

FULL NAME.  Aria Māhealani Parish PRONUNCIATION.  ahr-ee-uh mah-hey-ah-lah-nee pair-ish                                       ( ˈɑriə maːhejəˈlɐni ˈpærɪʃ ) NICKNAME.  just "Aria" or "Parish" GENDER.  cis woman HEIGHT.  5′3″ AGE.  20-25ish (verse-dependent & flexible) ZODIAC.  Aries SPOKEN LANGUAGES.  English (SAE), English (HPE)

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS !

HAIR COLOR.  dark brown EYE COLOR.  dark brown SKIN TONE.  warm, rosy gold undertones; Pantone 51-5 C (Humanae) BODY TYPE.  angular, petite ACCENT.  code-switches between HPE, SAE, and an affected "Valley Girl" accent depending on mood VOICE.  no current voice claim DOMINANT HAND.  right POSTURE.  impeccable posture when walking, standing, or driving, from lifelong attempts to look taller and to try to be able to see past people around her; slouches badly while reclining or working, which has caused back problems in the past SCARS.  incisions at the base of her neck from implantation of her cybernetic components; light, barely-visible scars on her hands up to her wrists from cuts & burns during hardware repairs and / or cooking attempts; a few scars on shoulders, legs from outdoor falls as a child TATTOOS.  none BIRTHMARKS.  none MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S).  long hair, striking bone structure

CHILDHOOD !

PLACE OF BIRTH.  Hālawa, Oʻahu, Hawaiʻi HOMETOWN.  Kaʻaʻawa Valley, Oʻahu, Hawaiʻi  |  Castle Ward, Swansea, Wales BIRTH WEIGHT.  7.2lbs BIRTH HEIGHT.  49cm MANNER OF BIRTH.  natural delivery FIRST WORDS.  bye-bye RELIGIOUS BACKGROUND.  secular, superstitious SIBLINGS.  Maya & Eva Parish (elder twin sisters, biological; estranged)                         Jackson Savage (elder brother, foster / adopted) PARENTS.  Lauren & Jackson Parish (biological parents, estranged)              Peter J. Savage II & Louise Savage née Abernathy (foster parents, estranged)

PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT.  The Parishes are strict but emotionally distant & neglectful parents, preferring to focus on their own research rather than their children or each other, believing that children should be seen and not heard, and not speak until and unless spoken to. They quickly fell into a pattern of favoring their elder daughters' obedience, accomplishments, and respectability in comparison to Aria's defiance and rejection of their laid-out plans for her life, ultimately disowning her in all but name by her teens. Her sisters never quite bridged the gap to connect with her while their parents' ambition kept them occupied. After briefly moving from her parents' estate in Hālawa to her grandmother's home in Kaʻaʻawa, Aria was sent away to the British Isles as a child-- out of sight, out of mind-- to live with the adult Parishes' family friends, the Savages, and their son Jackson, who were emotionally desperate to fill a child-shaped void of their own. Where the Savage adults were more of the same that Aria had come to expect from her own parents, down to being the "spare tire" third child, the family's traumas & the new setting left her feeling alone in a haunted house until Jax eventually, begrudgingly warmed up to her.

ADULT LIFE !

OCCUPATION.  Computer Systems Engineer ; Hacker & Snoop ; Petty Criminal (some gang involvement) CURRENT RESIDENCE.  varies (verse-dependent & flexible) CLOSE FRIENDS.  TBD (verse-dependent & flexible) RELATIONSHIP STATUS.  single (verse-dependent & flexible) FINANCIAL STATUS.  "poor little rich girl gone to seed" DRIVER’S LICENSE.  yes ; excellent driver (ground vehicles) CRIMINAL RECORD.  【RECORD SEALED & EXPUNGED】 VICES.  curses too much & explosively; drinks when angry; indulges in urges towards one-upsmanship & petty bickering

SEX AND ROMANCE !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION.  bisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION.  bisexual PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE.  submissive | dominant | switch PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE.  submissive | dominant | switch | sex repulsed LIBIDO.  below average-- happy with or without sex, for the most part TURN ONS.  determination, pragmatism, ingenuity, stubbornness, cleverness, loyalty TURN OFFS.  disloyalty / betrayal of trust, conformity, condescension, malice, pretension, bullying, being told what to do LOVE LANGUAGE.  Quality Time / Acts of Service

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.  Aria's only had a few serious relationships in her life, mainly because of preoccupations with either family, research, or work contracts, which have largely taken precedent over what she grew up seeing could be fickle emotional bonds. She craves emotional intimacy and trust, but is overwhelmed and terrified by the prospect of emotional dependence-- as a way to protect herself from ever being in a position to feel desperate and discarded again after getting some distance from (and making emotional progress without) her parents and foster parents in her life. She can be flirtatious and forward, particularly in pursuing casual flings if the urge arises, but is cautious and private if pursued for anything beyond that herself.

MISCELLANEOUS !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG.  JOYRYDE - IM GONE [ xxx ] HOBBIES TO PASS TIME.  sewing, coffee, thrifting, dancing / clubbing MENTAL ILLNESSES.  semi-resolved trauma from family history; on-and-off diagnoses of ADHD & anxiety (generally unmedicated & frequently ignored until Aria hits a breaking point); prone to PTSD-related night terrors and hypervigilance, depending on verse-specific exposures & experiences PHYSICAL ILLNESSES.  in dystopian verses, Aria's cybernetic prostheses run the risk of becoming liabilities as they wear out or take on damage LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED.  right-brained, per this quiz MBTI.  ENFP-T FEARS.  sharks, immobilization / confinement, helplessness, loss of independence SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL.  RSE Scale 16/30  ||  confident in her own competence and most of her physical appearance; still has issues with self-worth / how she believes her emotional worth is perceived to be by others, but accepts it to the point of cracking jokes, assuming as a baseline that she's either not worth other people investing in & is beneath their notice (which she thinks of as a positive when spying on others), or assumes anyone showing more than a cursory interest is either foolish or has ulterior motives VULNERABILITIES.  stubborn, lonely, mistrustful, more emotionally fragile than she's willing to admit to herself, self-doubts & second-guesses herself, low physical endurance, self-destructive tendencies with overwork when stressed

TAGGED BY: @nihtwulf TAGGING: anyone who wants to do this!

[nandinisniche]

What Sarees Can Teach Cis Feminists About Trans* Solidarity

(This article was originally published on Medium on June 11, 2015.)

Stop Saying Caitlyn Jenner Is Doing Femininity Wrong

In the midst of America’s earnest “trans moment”, a strong call for opposition is making itself heard even in progressive — and feminist — media.

It’s coming from inside the house

Trans* acceptance was never going to be a slam dunk, not even with the stupendous combined charm of Laverne Cox and Caitlyn Jenner, nor with the help of that old reliable — airbrushed sex appeal — thrust at us from magazine covers to proclaim their inauguration into True American Womanhood™. Nothing about upending gender expectations is ever that easy.

So this is where we are. The more we publicly the celebrate transgender acceptance, the more anti-trans worms continue to crawl out of the patriarchal woodwork. This is no surprise. To do my bit as a cis ally to trans people, I was ready to write to, reason with, and educate the haters. What is surprising is that so many of the haters are fellow feminists.

Meet the TERFs

Like many Tumblr-toting Roxane-Gay-quoting internet feminists, I had been under the impression that the old guard Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminists — TERFs — were a dying breed. The internet circles I lurk in are trans-friendly spaces, at least in name. My Twitter feed was full of trans-positive articles even before Laverne Cox hit the front pages of American media. My favorite reddit communities ban on sight anyone who suggests that trans men aren’t really men, or that it would be dangerous to allow trans women into ladies’ toilets.

But about a week ago, I began to see some startlingly transphobic articles being shared on my carefully culled Facebook feed. Several feminists that I admired were openly disparaging the manner and style and details of Caitlyn Jenner’s public transition.

Some of them went the unabashedly bigoted route, linking to articles like Matt Walsh’s screed, “Calling Bruce Jenner A Woman Is An insult To Women”. Such hatefulness and incoherence is easy to refute (though not defeat). It’s difficult for progressives to take a christian conservative cis white man seriously when he says Caitlyn Jenner is “Disgusting, frankly.” Chalk it up to yet another thing Matt Walsh is wrong about today, and move on.

Other feminists have taken the more subtly transphobic path, criticizing Ms Jenner for playing up stereotypes about femininity. Today an NYT op-ed by Elinor Burkett, for example, is outraged at Chelsea Manning for saying she feels more emotionally sensitive since transitioning, and takes Ms Jenner to task for looking forward to wearing nail polish openly in public after her transition. These attacks are so much harder to deal with because they grow from a germ of truth. Most women alive today grew up battling these stereotypical, insulting assumptions about femininity by the world at large: that women are “too emotional”, that women are obsessed with superficialities like make-up and nail polish, that women are biologically hardwired this way and therefore calling women silly or superficial is not sexism!When we see these insults being given new life by the statements of transgender women in the public eye, we wince.

Yes, I admit it. I winced too.

But then I remembered the sarees.

The story of the sarees

This is where I tell you a little about my roots. I am from India. I grew up in Bengaluru in the ‘80s and ‘90s, back when it was still Bangalore and quite a lot more socially conservative than it is today, though much more liberal than many other parts of India. 

One of the fiercest battles I waged then was against the dress code imposed on me: traditionalism first, modesty a close second, to hell with my personal choice, and don’t even dare breathe the word ‘fashion’ for fear of being branded whorish[1]. Even after my family moved overseas, this dress code persisted, made me choke, made me seethe. My parents and I had screaming fights over my tight jeans. My underwear was scrutinized for possible covert sluttiness[2]. I wasn’t allowed to wear spaghetti strap tops even in my 20s.

I became quite the expert in the art of secret outfit changes when away at school and college. I also grew to hate the traditional Indian clothes that were constantly held up to me as markers of good virtue. Enforced modesty taught me to see every saree as a symbol of oppression[3].

Can you imagine my state of mind when I saw my peers both in real life and in the media embrace sarees as liberating fashion statements? I saw many South Asian women ‘reclaiming’ the saree as sensual, religious, feminine, traditional, and kickass all at once (and I doubt they had ever collectively lost their claim to begin with). Many desi girls and women overseas embraced sarees as defiant, joyous expressions of their minority cultural identity. I saw my school friends wear their sarees happily and stylishly, and I got thoroughly pissed off at them.

I thought they were stupid for welcoming their own oppression. I thought they were betraying me, betraying all the battles that I and every other Indian feminist had fought to escape our compulsory-desi-outfit shackles. I raged at them for giving ammunition to all the people who pressured me to dress traditionally: now they were able to point to all these other girls and say, See? See how happy they are in traditional clothes? Why can’t you be like that?

But most diasporan desi girls and women never fought the battles I fought, and don’t have the same associations with sarees that I do. Their life experiences allowed them to take a pleasure in sarees that will probably always be alien to me. For some of them, donning a saree was even something of a defiance. 

I had a dance instructor in junior college who was called to the Bar in London, and at one of the formal ceremonies that followed, instead of wearing the expected black robes, she wore a lace-edged black saree. She said she was telling the British to stuff it. I was stunned. I believe that was the first time I allowed that maybe, just maybe, sarees are not oppression for everyone all the time.

Not just sarees

No doubt other ethnic and religious groups have experienced a similar dissnoance. I have an Iranian friend who chafes under the laws that impose headscarves on her whenever she goes back home, and her journey has been toward understanding why American hijabis exist: to understand that for some American muslimahs, wearing the hijab is as radical an act as it is for my Iranian friend to take hers off.[4]

The moral of the story

What the saree can teach cis feminists is this: context matters. Our life experiences matter. The symbols and methods we choose for self-expression have particular meanings for ourselves, and we should not insist that our meaning is THE universal meaning.

For some women, nail polish is a symbol of all the dreary, expensive, time-consuming hoops women are expected to jump through to adequately perform our femininity. For other women, especially those who have spent their entire lives longing for and being forcibly denied any expression of femininity, nail polish may be a powerful and triumphant symbol of self expression.

How can the former among us take offence at the latter? It is well within our rights to interrogate the patriarchal rules surrounding nail polish from a critical perspective, but how can we justify interrogating trans women like that?

Can we even imagine how it must feel to be ‘officially’ allowed to wear nail polish after 65 years of being denied it? I want to throw Caitlyn Jenner the glitteriest mani-pedi party when I think about it, and I’m the kind of person that’s owned exactly four bottles of nail polish ever in all my life. (So… I guess we will be hiring professional manicurists for the party because I would paint her knuckles as likely as nails.)

Beyond the cis perspective

So far I’ve only considered trans women’s choices from a resolutely cis lens. But what if we tried looking at the performance of femininity from the perspective of trans women themselves? Would we see merely choice and triumph? Or would we see something more nuanced, and decidedly darker?

Consider: violence against transgender women is an epidemic. Even though trans women are only 10% of all LGBTQ people who report incidents of hate directed at them, they are 45% of murder victims in the same group. Passing as female can be a matter of life or death for trans women. In light of this, is there any way to see cis feminists’ criticism of trans women for “trying to hard” to be feminine as anything other than terrifying, hateful, or at least deeply misguided? I don’t think so.

Consider: trans people are more deeply and thoroughly scrutinized for their performance of gender than cis people like myself can ever fathom. The pressure on trans people to surgically feminize their appearance in order to “pass”, or in order to be more acceptable as romantic partners, is extremely strong even when they personally would rather not get surgery. (Yes, that’s right, not all trans people want surgery.) This pressure and scrutiny has extremely damaging effects on trans people — for example, over 40% of transgender people attempt suicide, compared to 4.6% in the general population and around 15% among LGB people. Should cis feminists really be piling on trans people for supposedly “over”performing gender, thus adding to the toxic culture of overscrutinizing trans people? I definitely don’t think so.

A better way to fight

Here’s what I think cis feminists should be doing instead:

#1 (for the Meets Minimum Standards of Human Decency badge) Unequivocally support and encourage trans people’s chosen manner of gender expression. It’s a battle they have fought long and hard for, and feminists of all people should not be in the business of yelling them for somehow “doing it wrong”. They are doing it right, because they get to decide what’s right for them. Period.

#2 (for the Feminist 101 badge) Support the efforts of trans activists who want to build a safer and more equal world for transgender people. This means reading trans feminist writing (good places to start include Laverne Cox, Zinnia Jones, Model View Culture, and if you’re feeling academic, Radical TransFeminist). This means educating ourselves on the specific obstacles to equality faced by the trans community: safety, access to healthcare, equal opportunity in employment, equal access to public toilets, etc.

#3 (for the Intersectional Feminist badge) Recognize that if there is a reason why media portrayals of famous trans people is problematic, it is because of the way this affects THE TRANS COMMUNITY, not cis women! The inimitable Laverne Cox says:

A year ago when my Time magazine cover came out I saw posts from many trans folks saying that I am “drop dead gorgeous” and that that doesn’t represent most trans people. (It was news to be that I am drop dead gorgeous but I’ll certainly take it). But what I think they meant is that in certain lighting, at certain angles I am able to embody certain cisnormative beauty standards. Now, there are many trans folks because of genetics and/or lack of material access who will never be able to embody these standards. More importantly many trans folks don’t want to embody them and we shouldn’t have to to be seen as ourselves and respected as ourselves . It is important to note that these standards are also infomed by race, class and ability among other intersections.

In the spirit of #3, I highly recommend browsing the amazing Twitter hashtag, #MyVanityFairCover, where ordinary non-celebrity transgender people are creating their own “Call Me Caitlyn” style cover shots.

And finally, every time we feel anger or outrage stirring in response to something a trans woman says or does about her femininity, we need to remember the story of the sarees.

[1] & [2]: These were the terms used at me, and yes, they are extremely disparaging to sex workers.

[3]: Make no mistake: for hundreds of thousands of Indian girls and women, these clothes are indeed an oppression. Traditional dress codes are commonly imposed on Indian women to this day. I personally know far too many married women living in urban, upper class, highly educated joint families who do not have ‘permission’ from their in-laws to wear jeans.

[4]: Note that I am not suggesting that any choice whatsoever is feminist/radical just because it is a choice. Choice feminism is deeply flawed. What I am saying is, any symbol or act can be radical or oppressive depending upon personal and social context.