PARANOIA, ON THE GO, I’M MOVIN’ SILENT
PULL UP ON YA, I GOT TROUBLE RIGHT BEHIND ME
BITE THE BULLET, SUIT AND TIE, THE SILVER LININ’
I’M-I’M-I’M-I’M GONNA SHOW YOU HOW TO CRASH A PARTY!
PULL UP ON YA, I GOT TROUBLE RIGHT BEHIND ME
BITE THE BULLET, SUIT AND TIE, THE SILVER LININ’
I’M-I’M-I’M-I’M GONNA SHOW YOU HOW TO CRASH A PARTY!
OOC INFORMATION
IGN: (Please also list any of your alternate accounts)
wavestalker (MAIN; APPLYING ACC)
stalkinwaves (POTENTIAL ALT)
Describe your activity on the server:
If it is not obvious enough considering the amount of hours and time I spend playing SRP, my activity is far more extensive than that of a casual player. I am involved in practically every event and gathering in both the Shrine faction (and the gang I used to reside in - Karakura ZEROS) and I always try to make time for any of these events or meetings. Though sometimes I may not entirely be on time, or may miss them in IRL situations, I can guarantee my participation in anything involving the Black Market as well if I am to be accepted. I spend lots of time and energy into SRP, getting into serious or unserious scenarios (usually depending on my character haha) yet many can confirm just with a question my dedication to something once I am involved! Which is something I really like, though everyone tells me to ‘touch grass’ every once in a while. I’m not too sure what this ‘grass’ is but it sounds funky.
Unserious comment aside, ever since I have slowly wriggled my way into CrimeRP and GangRP from my return to SRP about a year ago, I am fairly confident in my knowledge and ability of the criminal side of Karakura that although I am still learning like most, I strive to understand and overcome any difficulties. Though um. . . admittedly I do get grounded a lot (with dumb reason) so there may be times where I cannot log on for something as my parents have me utterly banned from my desktop. But that’s alright!! At least I hope so!!
Overall, I truly try my best to show my hard work and dedication towards any organisation I may be in, and even though my activity is off the roof, I still make time to focus on real life - a healthy relationship with the online world, and the outside. (...not really but! You know the deal!)
Specify your Discord username (USER#0000) and if you have a microphone:
@battlekour
I currently have a working microphone.
Specify your country of origin and time zone:
United States; EST (New York Time)
Also known as GMT -5.
What are your motivations in applying for the black market dealer role?:
The opportunity in itself.
Now, you may be wondering, ‘what does this lady mean!’ and I will provide an in-depth answer!
In the criminal world of Karakura, everyone looks up to these people always saying ‘I want to be like them!’ and admittedly, I originally was one of these people, though as I dug and dug some more down the CrimeRP rabbit hole, this BMD thing? It’s not as easy as most think just ‘selling weapons and making bank.’ Of course, while that may be true, I literally can make the same amount of money selling pixelated outfits for people who want to dress their characters like Barbies. And I know damn well some people are applying just for the big money because they’re mad broke.
Instead, I look at it with a different perspective - one of them being the utter thrill of doing the craziest things, like events, and dealing with not being caught. Being a Black Market Dealer is a highly sought after role in the criminal side of SRP, I think we have all established this, but my motivations in applying aren’t for the money. I genuinely love roleplaying, it’s been something I’ve done for years, and I know this is a step in the next direction I want to go forth in. I want to be more involved, planning events and such alongside the Event team, trying to overhaul GangRP and overall CrimeRP to be a better and more enjoyable place for veterans and newcomers alike.
Standalone CrimeRP is rather difficult if you’re not in a gang, you’re constantly having everyone on YOUR bum instead of the opposite since there’s literally nobody to back you up (unless you were previously Deno von Moltke who was like friends with everyone) that it’s been getting. . . genuinely boring for me. And I know it’s rather difficult being a BMD, I’ve heard plenty of stories, but I am prepared for anything that is to be thrown at me. This opportunity to even be considered upon the current Dealers is something in itself, and as I sit here writing my application, I am rather anxious - it’s something I feel upon any application I write - but my motivation to apply is far from low, instead, I want to put in a lot of time and effort into the Black Market.
And although I am aware that I am not an associate (which, as far as I’m concerned, puts me at a lesser advantage as I am not entirely familiar with the inside workings of the Black Market but perhaps someone could prove me wrong), I will at least try the best I can to prove myself and my ability to you all.
What helps you to stand out from other applicants & what can you uniquely provide to the team?:
To be honest - I don’t stand out. Yes, I know, pessimistic for real, but I don’t stand out like most. I am your average roleplayer, just with genuine dedication to the things I am in. I’ve never really stood out like the rest, I’ve been that average kid all my life (even a little bit weird?) but what makes me “stand out?”
I'm a pretty unique person, of course. Only one me in the whole wide world.
I am not in front of the rest, I am not a ‘leader’ type of person although I have lots of experience in teamwork and can work well with others, and I have shown leadership multiple times before, I just don’t think I’m just sort of 'better’ than everyone else. Instead, where’s everyone else? Every person is different and has a completely different application but they all seem to share a general idea of being the cream of the crop. I want to be able to do things that I’m not capable of doing alone, and for what? I’m confident in my ability. I know my limits, I know my capabilities. I love learning more and more about the world around me, and I’m always communicative towards everyone!
Now, what about something I can uniquely provide? Ideas. I am filled to the brim constantly with ideas, some reasonable, some that need some work, but my mind is like a sea of different things all mushed together into one. It’s hard to comprehend from someone else’s perspective, but as I’m making the wildest leap from pretty much nobody in the CrimeRP community to the top of the top people, I’d say anything is possible at this point, and from the things others have told me, it was completely worth a shot, what’s there to lose? Even though I’ve introduced myself to the community much later than most, I’ve grasped everything well quite quickly (going back to being a fast learner woah!) that I genuinely believe I have a chance against everyone else who is applying for this highly sought after position. And I’m definitely taking a gamble here, but nothing ever hurts to try.
I’ve noticed in quite a few applications that for this particular question they usually have these four things - organisation, responsibility, maturity. . . and although yes, they are good values, no, really, GREAT values, I don’t want to blatantly ‘copy’ said values in this specific application. Admittedly on the mature side of things I lack it when I’m in a silly goofy mood, but I definitely am a mature person if need be. Of course, I do have all these values, I just don’t want my main focus to be on them since everyone else says the same thing and it gets boring for whoever reads this. I want to prove myself compared to the other applicants, and I can provide anything I can to the team to make it more enjoyable for everyone.
What previous experience do you have in working with a team?:
Multiple instances, actually. In real life (yes, school is actually a thing IRL for you SRP players!) I am currently the president of a club I am in and people genuinely like who I am as a person alongside my leadership. I am always punctual to every meeting and convey my ideas and thoughts to the other members of the club, planning events and fundraisers for us and whatnot. The whole ‘counsel’ bit is a little like an insider team for me, and it’s mainly where I get my leadership-like traits from since it’s the first time I’ve ever been in a position like that.
Now, SRP wise, I’m currently in a faction (Shrine) and already I’ve made friends with practically all the other shrine members. Even though the first time I couldn’t make it to the first explanatory meeting due to IRL problems, I’ve been very active and working alongside the other shrine members without any problems! I genuinely love working in a team, it not only is nice to hear others’ opinions and ideas, but it makes it easier on everyone else, if that makes sense. Alongside that, I used to be in the ZEROS for a few months before my departure from DelinquentRP, I spent a short amount of time in Mefisuto (formerly Valhalla) to get a good grasp at GangRP, which it did, actually, though it also definitely showed me the downsides. Another part of team working that I participate in is in Fight Club, and although it’s more of a ‘side’ fun thing for me at the moment, I still enjoy it nonetheless and work alongside the other employees to do a successful shift!
One of the key traits of team working is communication, which most struggle when faced with a difficult scenario, both IRL and in SRP, but I can guarantee with my previous experiences I can communicate calmly and respectfully. As everyone knows, being in combat can be extremely stressful but the most important thing in these situations is to keep your composure and to not have outbursts towards others. I used to struggle with this myself a while back, but I realised it got me nowhere and now whenever I am, I act maturely and professionally, just like how it’s supposed to be IRL. It’s so important that it pretty much affects the entire ‘team’ part in itself.
Overall, I have a pretty good experience in working in a team and just working alongside others in general.
What suggestions do you have to help better the crime faction?:
Although the crime faction definitely needs work, I’ve had a few ideas in mind to help and (not entirely fix, since it’s pretty difficult to) improve the faction and make it the best it can be!
#1 - KEYBINDS
This is a wild stretch and it’ll piss off like half of the community in one shot but NOBODY likes keybinds. It’s literally so depressing to see that people use them, it’s not even RP anymore to the people who actually want to, well, RP. A single button and a massive detailed action popping up over and over again isn’t fun, y’all.
My idea here is to just scrap it entirely. Encourage RP. People start from somewhere, they might say they suck, but we all sucked at everything once. At this point, I’d recommend making combat keybinds a warnable offence, or something along the lines of that. It’s getting annoying to CrimeRP and just be hit with keybinds and /looc roll spam in the chat if you take more than 3 seconds to.
#2 - CRIMERP GUIDE
An updated guide on how to get started on CrimeRP, created by the Gang Faction lead, Black Market lead, and the Dealers, as they are the most knowledgeable in the little nooks and crannies of general CrimeRP. Perhaps we could add a little FAQ at the bottom for questions that are sent most often in the #help channel, and recommend it to new players who need help figuring out how to start in Crime. Multiple chapters, like joining a gang or going solo, to how permissions work, to ‘zones' such as the public zones and safe zones, what’s allowed and what entirely isn’t. Anything that has to do with crime would be in this specific starter guide. After reviewing the one displayed in the KC discord, although it is helpful, it’s short and I feel as if to new players, they’d still be pretty lost on what to do.
A collaborative effort to create a nice awesome updated forum guide would be extremely helpful for old and new players alike!!
#3 - CLUB IKIGAI
I believe a good chunk of us are aware the club barely opens; and I am not entirely sure what happens behind the scenes, but I always believed it had a lot of potential yet it never was used much. I was considering alongside the wheel and knife game, a few more things could be added! Maybe some more gambling games, get the money flowing in, like imagine some poker tables and some RP games going on in the background, similar to a casino-like atmosphere (similar to La Casa Nostra with their whole gambling thing at the main floor) except the stakes are higher!! Like watching people get stabbed if they lose!! And maybe more events there too other than just “THE CHASE” even though that event is super fun, I’d suggest a few little events for the club to do randomly on certain openings to keep it lively and fresh, like an axe throwing tournament or perhaps a KPD raid at some point if an officer accidentally witnesses a person in a ballistic entering a weird hole and watching everyone scramble like bugs. But I think that idea’s way too overused, so who knows.
#4 - CRIME CLINIC
Make the CC more worthwhile to go to for criminals. Everyone ends up going to EMS that barely anyone uses the clinic anymore, so perhaps they could sell fake “prescriptions” to people at a slightly higher price similar to fake IDs. Need backup crutches? Ask a clinician and they’ll probably sell you a pair of wonky ones without you needing to break an ankle! Illegal possession of certain medicines as well! They’d even have a fake little prescription book written by the clinician to go along with it in case you’re searched by KPD.
I hope at least one or two of these ideas ends up being put into consideration, I could’ve gone on further but I didn’t want to be known as a professional waffler as I desire quality over quantity.
Are you familiar with all rules pertaining to weapon profiles, combat, permissions, and player conduct on the server?:
I am knowledgeable with all rules pertaining to weapon profiles, combat, permissions, and player conduct on the server.
Are you familiar with that if you leave the black market at any point, the black market lead will have permanent kill permissions on your character?:
I am aware that if I am to leave the black market at any point, the black market lead will have permanent kill permissions on my character.
Are you familiar with that if your character(s) is/are killed or permanently arrested twice, you will be removed from the black market?:
I am aware that if my character is killed or permanently arrested twice, I will be removed from the black market.
Are you familiar with that you cannot reveal any out-of-character plans or potential addition to the black market to others?:
I am aware I cannot leak/reveal any OOC plans or potential additions to the black market to others.
IC INFORMATION
Full Legal Name:
Hae-Ryung exhaled, gloved hands the colour of the night’s sky tracing along the light dust layer laid on the table separating the interviewer from the interviewee, squinting as she stared into the deep abyss of the ballistic’s empty eyes. Not much the woman could have made out, but the gaze was intense nonetheless. As she was asked this question, the woman responded in a rather brutal manner. . .
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you ain’t gonna pronounce it WRONG because people have called me a bajillion other names. It’s fuckin HAE-RYUNG SHIN. Simple, right? Or just Hae, whatever you want to say, I’ll still respond.”
Criminal Alias:
The blonde blinked for a short moment, her amber eyes looking away from the interviewer for a split second as she leaned forward on the table, letting out a small cough at the dust. Allergic, maybe? Either way, Hae simply tapped at the grey surface, closing her eyes for a short moment to remember.
“It took me a while to decide on one. Mainly because I didn’t need people snooping and figuring out my identity. I go by ‘PARANOIA’ and that’s that, no further questions needed on that one.”
Age & Occupation:
A few blinks, and her head tilted downwards towards the table once more. She seemed slightly distracted, fidgeting with the leather of her gloves. . . though, after a little bit, she spoke. What stopped her in those moments, only she herself would know.
“I’m 19. Still in college. Young, I know. Bear with me, I can get my job done with ease. I’m great at acting after all, I’ve been a professional at acting like I’m sane all my life. Fun fact? Neither of us in this room are sane.”
A quiet chuckle could be heard from her after she said that.
Gender & Marital Status:
The blonde groaned, rolling her eyes at such an obvious question. But of course, like the snarky one she is, she leaned back on the chair as it creaked a bit, clicking her tongue before mumbling. . .
“M’ a female, is that not apparent already? Do I gotta use the Barbie voice and heels too? . . . and keep your business out of my . . . love life.”
In- reality, Hae wasn’t too sure what to do, stuck between a rock and a hard place. One could say her marital status is so, so incredibly complicated that it takes two whole novels to explain it that neither I, the author, or Hae herself, would take the time to sit down and relay. So please enjoy a budget, half-assed response to her marital status, because she’s most definitely not single, but is she happy?
Ethnicity & Race:
To this question did she instantly respond in a language different to Japanese - that being Korean.
“My homeland. . .”
And if it wasn’t obvious by her appearance, her accent and native language made it all the more visible that she wasn’t from Karakura, or any part of Japan.
“Korean. And if you don’t know geography, Korea’s in Asia. So I am Asian. What an amazing fact to know,” Hae would grumble, rolling her eyes rather sarcastically. . .
Known Languages:
Full Legal Name:
Hae-Ryung exhaled, gloved hands the colour of the night’s sky tracing along the light dust layer laid on the table separating the interviewer from the interviewee, squinting as she stared into the deep abyss of the ballistic’s empty eyes. Not much the woman could have made out, but the gaze was intense nonetheless. As she was asked this question, the woman responded in a rather brutal manner. . .
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you ain’t gonna pronounce it WRONG because people have called me a bajillion other names. It’s fuckin HAE-RYUNG SHIN. Simple, right? Or just Hae, whatever you want to say, I’ll still respond.”
Criminal Alias:
The blonde blinked for a short moment, her amber eyes looking away from the interviewer for a split second as she leaned forward on the table, letting out a small cough at the dust. Allergic, maybe? Either way, Hae simply tapped at the grey surface, closing her eyes for a short moment to remember.
“It took me a while to decide on one. Mainly because I didn’t need people snooping and figuring out my identity. I go by ‘PARANOIA’ and that’s that, no further questions needed on that one.”
Age & Occupation:
A few blinks, and her head tilted downwards towards the table once more. She seemed slightly distracted, fidgeting with the leather of her gloves. . . though, after a little bit, she spoke. What stopped her in those moments, only she herself would know.
“I’m 19. Still in college. Young, I know. Bear with me, I can get my job done with ease. I’m great at acting after all, I’ve been a professional at acting like I’m sane all my life. Fun fact? Neither of us in this room are sane.”
A quiet chuckle could be heard from her after she said that.
Gender & Marital Status:
The blonde groaned, rolling her eyes at such an obvious question. But of course, like the snarky one she is, she leaned back on the chair as it creaked a bit, clicking her tongue before mumbling. . .
“M’ a female, is that not apparent already? Do I gotta use the Barbie voice and heels too? . . . and keep your business out of my . . . love life.”
In- reality, Hae wasn’t too sure what to do, stuck between a rock and a hard place. One could say her marital status is so, so incredibly complicated that it takes two whole novels to explain it that neither I, the author, or Hae herself, would take the time to sit down and relay. So please enjoy a budget, half-assed response to her marital status, because she’s most definitely not single, but is she happy?
Ethnicity & Race:
To this question did she instantly respond in a language different to Japanese - that being Korean.
“My homeland. . .”
And if it wasn’t obvious by her appearance, her accent and native language made it all the more visible that she wasn’t from Karakura, or any part of Japan.
“Korean. And if you don’t know geography, Korea’s in Asia. So I am Asian. What an amazing fact to know,” Hae would grumble, rolling her eyes rather sarcastically. . .
Known Languages:
- KOREAN - Hae-Ryung wasn’t too sure when she had started to learn Korean, but it was at such a young age, she’s practically more than fluent now. She speaks it when she isn’t sure of what word’s which in Japanese, so she tends to speak Korean a lot instead. “My grandmother taught me.”
- JAPANESE - The blonde woman learned this during her travels as a child with
WATANABE, and refuses to acknowledge him as her mentor. She isn’t the greatest at Japanese, but is knowledgeable enough to interact with others. “I wish he could burn.”
- GERMAN - She spent day in, day out, to dedicate herself to learning for her ‘family.’ For the green-eyed blonde. Hae doesn’t mention at all that she knows this, she simply listens into conversations silently, extracting each piece of info from their words into her head. “Evalise.”
Former Associations/Occupations:
- MEFISUTO (VALHALLA) - Hae wasn’t entirely sure when she joined the organisation officially, but it was due to the pressure of a red-haired man that eventually, she made a turn for the worst. Does she regret it? Somewhat. “The headless angel people. I don’t like the headless angel people. In fact, I hate them. Yet some way, somehow, I’m surrounded by them constantly. . . it’s like hell. But I’m still standing.”
- FIGHT CLUB - After Hae’s return to Karakura after what felt like she was never going to come back, she had gotten a small notice that a familiar business needed staff to work the infamous ‘Fight Club.’ Hesitant at first, she filled it out, and was notified of her acceptance as a bartender. “Oh, I enjoy working there even though I don’t pay attention to the fights. Poor drunkies, they’re always buying a shit load of alcohol to probably sell or down. Which - is disgusting. I can’t even stand beer, but I do it because it’s a decent side job. And it’s pretty fun.”
Highest Level of Education:
Hae-Ryung had this part ready, for some unknown reason - she dug into her pocket, and although she wasn’t going to pull out a weapon, it was instead a rolled up piece of paper with a red ribbon. She didn’t open it, she simply waved it around proudly.
“I’m currently in college. So I have a high-school diploma and all. Isn’t it cool? I certainly wouldn’t want to dedicate my fucking life on a piece of paper,” She threw it off to the side carelessly. “I’d rather ‘enjoy’ my life while I still have it.”
Physical/Mental Ailments:
- AVOIDANT/RESTRICTIVE FOOD INTAKE DISORDER (ARFID) - An eating disorder where the person affected isn’t wary of losing weight or upkeeping their appearance or overeating, but to the lack of appeal in eating. Hae simply denies any sort of food given to her, and if forced to, she will end up gagging and possibly vomiting. She is extremely reluctant in trying anything new, and has a genuine fear of choking to the point that if she does eat, she spends longer than necessary to. Hae also tends to avoid any sort of social gatherings involving food, like dinners with friends or with her partner. She is not aware that she has this, most simply think she will get over her ‘pickiness’ at some point. Because of this, she is borderline underweight. “. . . I don’t want to eat. I’m not hungry.”
- POST-TRAUMATIC AMNESIA (PTA) - A condition that occurs after a head injury or traumatic brain injury, involving a period of memory loss and confusion that follows the injury. Although it isn’t a large problem that Hae suffers with, it has become more and more apparent with the amount of times her head was slammed with a metal object or just by fists. She’s starting to forget bits and bits of her life, piece by piece every time she is knocked out, and wakes up in a dream-like state where at its worst, she doesn’t know who she is. “I. . . don’t remember their faces.”
- ATTENTION-DEFICIT/HYPERACTIVITY DISORDER (ADHD) - A neurodevelopmental disorder, characterised by persistent patterns of inattention, hyperactivity and impulsivity. Hae’s been able to control it more recently, though her mind tends to wander off often whenever she is supposed to focus on something. Other times, she’s seen to be fidgeting with something, or really anything in that matter, that being a pair of keys in her pocket to the fabric on her sweater. In turn, her impulsivity makes her act without thinking beforehand, though after certain events she’s done her best to stop herself and think before acting. Although undiagnosed, she isn’t sure if it’s her or something else that causes these reactions. “What is wrong with me . . . ?”
- DEPRESSION - A mental health condition characterised by persistent feelings of sadness, loss of interest, changes in sleep and appetite, fatigue, and difficulty concentrating. Hae has been suffering from this since the beginning of time at this point, and isn't sure when the pain will end. She can barely eat. She can't even bring herself to smile. When there is nobody but herself, she hides in the corner and cries out for someone, anyone to save her from being stuck in the prison called her mind. And despite her attempts, there is no key to escape. She is fully aware of being depressed, to the point of being mocked by others, but has yet to seek a psychiatrist. She's constantly refused. "Save me, save me, SAVE ME, PLEASE!"
- SEPARATION ANXIETY DISORDER (SAD) - A hidden one - a psychological condition characterised by excessive anxiety because of them being separated from their home or from people to whom an individual has a strong emotional attachment. Hae wasn’t sure why she felt such strong emotion from losing the people she herself cared about, even though she didn’t show it much. She constantly is reluctant to be alone, and has frequent nightmares about losing her loved ones that she suffers from a lack of sleep, tears streaming down her cheeks as she wakes up past midnight, heavily panting, and sometimes it escalates to intense anxiety or panic attacks when faced with any sort of separation. “Am I really. . . that bad of a person?”
Known Family Members (?) :
Were they really family?
IN-GAME
- TAE-YANG SHIN - Hae’s biological half-brother, her ‘brother from another mother.’ The two had been separated from a young age to the point the memories of one another were simply a fleeting feather of the past. That was when she had crossed paths with him in recent events, and had sworn to protect him ever since the ‘incident’ where he too, lost his leg. And although Hae appears to be on good terms to the people who did it, deep inside, the fate she wishes they had is worse than Death holding its scythe to their necks. “He is . . . fucking stupid, but family. And I would go to the worst fucking lengths in my life to protect him, you hear me? Karma’s a nasty bitch, and I am karma.”
- EVALISE VON MOLTKE - Although not biological, Hae considers Eva as a sworn sister, the little sister she never seemed to have. The two originally didn’t start off the greatest, throwing insults at one another and the girl continuing to make fun of her missing leg and referring to her as a ‘cripple.’ Eventually, the two began to warm up to each other, to the point Hae calls Eva her little sister when it comes to it. Recently, they’ve been growing a little distant, but Hae hopes to bond with her more often. “Her brother might hate me, but I don’t give a fuck. . . she’s my ‘sister’ after all. I won’t let her get hurt. Ever.”
- N̵̢̡̧̖͕̯̞͕̺̺̈́̃O̸͕̜͔̰̬͓̹̾͒̌̈̈́͌̄̽R̵̡͈̯͕̟̠͉̂̒̇̆͑̅͋̍̋͋Í̶̡̘̝̎̚O̶̩̦̜̔̈́͑͆̒̑̋͗̾̚ ̸̖͈̻͎̦̤̯͂͌̓̅̒W̶͉̠̖͎̒͆̐̑̍͝A̶̙̤̻̙̖͛̔͌͜ͅT̸͕̳̩͕̠͈͍͒̈́͒̉̈̌͜͠A̵̮͓̙̔̂͛̇Ǹ̶̯͙̦͕͉̓͒̒͝͝͝Ǎ̸̛̛̳̝͚͙̍̉̈́͆͝B̶͍̺̦̘̪̤͓̬͈̗̌Ę̷̛͚̠͇͛̈́͛̌̚ͅ - Who? “
GET HIM OUT OF MY LIFE! GET HIM OUT!My former adoptive father.”
- ‘ITU’ - He was the only person in this cursed world that knew her best. “Hah. . . I was stupid back then. You made me realise that. I don’t have much to say other than if you ever do get out of there, I know you’ll be pointing a knife to my neck. And perhaps, just perhaps I deserve it, but will I die at your hands? Of course not, I know better.”
LORE
- ‘MOTHER’ - A lady, long gone from the traces of the world. “You weren’t here most of my life. . . nor was Father. I respect you both, though, for your efforts to raise me. But now, you’re gone, and you don’t have to worry, I know what I am doing you don’t agree with. And I say, I’ll give a big fat fuck you to it. You don’t control me, bitch. Nobody does. You can’t tie me down, even from the grave.”
- ‘FATHER’ - Any mention of him fills her with some sort of strange mix of contempt and remorse. How many years. . . “I remember you tried to convince me to go on, be a doctor instead of a dance teacher way back when. Better money, you said. Well, I’ll be making more, Father. I don’t gotta be a fuckin’ medical professional, you’re just like Mother, trying to tie me down to your expectations. Maybe being dead was a better option for you anyways, I don’t have to hear your shit. And y’know? Get better fucking driving skills, Skelly-bones.”
- ‘GRANDMAMA’ - It’s been so long since she has seen her, and she is gone too. . . Where did she go? Hae doesn’t remember. “Grandmama. She raised me in my childhood, better than my shit parents did. Taught me the shit I needed to know in my life, led me to the things I wanted to do, like dance way back when. Used to enrol me in those classes and stuff, I barely remember it. Now? She’d be pissed at me for what I’m doing. But it’s only necessary to get rid of those standing in your way if you want to survive, dancing upon the dead bodies of your enemies.”
Describe your character's appearance to the greatest detail:
When Hae-Ryung initially stepped foot into this room, the dim light wasn’t helpful in making out the small, intricate features of the Korean lady. But, as the eyes adjusted to the darkness, the woman sat down upon the rather uncomfortable seat, rubbing her gloves together as her head panned up towards the masked figure. She wasn’t too sure how or exactly what to describe herself as, yet the silence in the meeting room only thickened with the muffled sound of a clock ticking so, so far away. Her frame wasn’t that tall, but not incredibly short, standing at the ‘normal’ height for someone her age, a measly 5 '6".
“I consider myself to be normal.”
Perhaps normality in this town was a good thing. For Hae, she was far from normal. A sandy like colour was her hair, reaching down half-way to her torso as it seemed rather unkept and somewhat unhygienic. It appeared to fade to a blue-ish green, the colour fading out more and more from what was a bright blue colour after months of not giving two shits. Hae didn’t seem to care much, though it appeared to be a sort of ‘wolf cut’ or something similar to that, she wasn’t sure what exactly to call it. Messy blonde bangs framed her face as they crashed into that same seagreen colour at the tips, and her countenance was no longer that same ‘porcelain doll’ she had when she first entered the hell known as Karakura.
It was scarred, bits of skin poking out to show her past fights - wins, and losses. The most visible scar trailed down the right side of her face, about 4 inches in length as it was split by her eye. She hasn’t told many what happened that specifically caused that scar, but she remembers how glass flew about like snowflakes in winter, coming down like hail . . . the human mind can reveal how the rest of the story unfolded, but she leaves it at simply what it is, a fleeting memory of long past.
Her gaze was a rich, golden-brown shade, reminiscent of honey in a way that it glowed even in the darkest of night. A natural inviting warmth, akin to the golden glow of the sun meeting the horizon. A subtle heaviness could be seen in her eyes, as if she’s seen everything in her life and is unfazed by anything that steps in her way no longer. The weight of fatigue, the soft, lingering hint of utter exhaustion. . . in those eyes, she seemed alone. As if everyone and everything in the world has left her to rot as an empty shell of what she once was. Alone in a way where no matter how much she yells and screams and cries for help, nobody in the world could hear her.
Her palms, underneath those leather gloves, were once soft and tender - almost like a representation of how pure and untouched she was all those years ago, but now as she sits here in silence, those same hands had turned into a rugged terrain of calluses, mostly covered in a sort of lotion to keep it from hurting too much. Hae was a rather pale colour, perhaps she lost that peach colour she once had from hiding from the world, all day, every day, to the point she almost looks like a ghost. Perhaps she is one, an empty husk, as her build was thin and almost underweight from the lack of nutrients, almost as if she were a twig that could easily . . . snap.
Upon closer inspection, a loud creak could be heard from somewhere on her whenever she would shuffle into a different position, and the reason as to why became relatively obvious - her right leg wasn’t real, but man-made, a mix of silicone and carbon-fibre replacing what used to be flesh and bone. Now, it creaks and squeaks out in pain due to poor maintenance to the point that at certain times, the battery stops working and she’s unable to bend it. She hasn’t bothered even getting it repaired, as it only reminds her of her mistakes, despite the loud sounds it produces. And if someone were to question her as to what happened, Hae would simply respond with two words.
“Rokuhara rats.”
Out in public, she is most likely to be wearing something that covers both her arms and leg(s), and if not, high leg warmers that keep herself both warm and feeling as if she isn’t showing herself ‘off.’ Why is this? Carvings - although healed, they linger on her body, especially tracing down her back where the word ‘SNITCH’ could be barely seen through the burn scars she had left from trying to burn it off. And overall, she doesn’t like people knowing about the fact she has a prosthetic.
Too many questions that she has too little answers for.
Describe your character's personality to the greatest detail:
When one first meets the one and only Hae-Ryung Shin, one thought collectively flows through everyone’s minds depending on who she is speaking with - a snarky little bitch she was. It was self-explanatory, anyone who dared to approach her that wasn’t someone she was familiar with instantly got the ‘fuck off’ treatment, as she has little to no time to bother interacting with them. Though, really, it depends on the person, their affiliations. . . she isn’t sure how else to describe it herself. It was clear during the ‘interview’ between her and the masked figure that she likes to get to the point, and fast. Waiting around isn’t something she enjoys to do much, and considering she’s a very impatient person, it isn’t a great trait to have.
An actor, who’s been acting since her birth.
The woman seems to hate everything and anything around her, and it’s almost impossible for one to gain her trust in anything. At that point, you are better off making a new friend instead of wasting time on her, but some still unfortunately do. It’s like strangers were met with an impenetrable fortress that she built brick by brick, by brick, until it came to the point she gave everyone a horrible stare. Was she always like this? Nobody can ever tell; as her old friends abandoned her oh so long ago.
Behind those layers appears to be a different page in her story, and to her closest friends and ‘family,’ she appears to be a sweet, kind soul, despite the layers and layers of pain she keeps deep in her heart. It would soon be clear that this woman couldn't be anything more than one of the sweetest people. Her smile was contagious, a laugh someone would never hear, cheeks reddened a bit as she looked around the world with big, open eyes. She would almost instantaneously appear for someone whenever they would need someone to hold, and although she tries her best, nothing is ever perfect. She was never going to be that 'perfect' girl that she originally strived to be; instead she keeps on going with her life without a second thought, placing the people she cares about before herself. It's always been like that - before herself.
Always has been.
And it was only after a particular situation involving a red-haired male did it change for her, and slowly but surely she had become someone completely different to who she was before, looking down upon everything with distaste, contempt, and hatred. Hae-Ryung would sit upon her blood-stained throne, cackling maniacally at the misfortunes of others who truly deserved it. Karma was something Hae found joy in watching these days, one could even spot a grin if they looked close, and she wished for nothing more but to feel that high of watching her enemies fall under the sole of her shoe and stepped on like a ****roach.
“There’s only one me in this whole world, and this one me is the worst me you could meet.”
But - when she is alone, and nobody is left in this cursed world to help free her, her inner emotions release and she’s nothing more than a weak, sobbing mess. The side of her she hopes nobody would ever see, as it only makes her look vulnerable. There were those times where she wished it all would end and finally, would she be released from the chains of the constant mental torment she’s been put through. And she screams and claws and chokes on her spit, tears flowing down her cheeks as she continues to this day, for a way out of this hell.
“The black flower is the voice I hear always in bloodied prayers. . .”
Who knows what’s going on in her head?
Describe your character's backstory to the greatest detail: (200+ words minimum)
‘ENTRY’
2004 - 2009
GEUMSAN, SOUTH KOREA
And here it begins - the beginning of the end, starting with a newborn, somewhere within the plains of South Korea - two overjoyed parents, a happy family, as were the lights flickering on a rainy day of June 1st. Life sprouted like a seed, and the plant had grown upwards, and she arose with a name lovely and as bright as the sun . . . “Hae-Ryung.”
It was that name they thought was perfect, as the small child grew ‘alone’ on a farm - her parents were far too busy to tend to her needs, as they were tending to the land instead, and so she was placed under the care of her grandmother, the only person the little girl ever seemed to acknowledge in those years. Her mother came around every now and then, tales to be told sitting within the pages she held in her palms, placing them on the top of that small table made of pine, blood, sweat, and tears. It barely stood up, each leg telling its own tale, yet it was the only thing they had.
Hae-Ryung silently sat at the table, falling into the unevenly sewn cushion of the chair, a bright crimson that radiated off a blood moon, the sunlight bouncing off of it and glittering the ceiling, crystals in a cave, her grandmother referred to it as. Most of the time, she would be seen sitting there, just barely peeking over the edge as a thick crayon was gripped in her left hand, and a small sheet of white in the other. And she would colour, alone, thinking about how pretty the stars shone at night. Diamonds in the sky they were, as she would lay upon the grassy terrain at a mere five years old, glaring up into the galaxy and reaching out silently. For what, nobody is sure of, and she would wake up back in her bed, as if everything was simply a dream, something that seemed so real but was so fake, just like her.
Just like her - a new entry into this world amongst the billions.
~
“Put the tape inside of the - the VCR, right here, yeah? There’s a little- opening, right here. Look- yeah, you got it.”
A short whirring noise echoed throughout the dimly lit room, the loading mechanism engaging as the tape was slowly but surely pulled into the VCR, and a satisfying clunk could be heard from the old machine as the cassette locked itself into place. A hand reached out for the small play button, marked by a little white arrow, gently pressing it. More mechanical sounds could be heard, whirring, continuing to go around as the VCR’s internal components work together to spool the tape, align the video heads, and start the playback, the distinctive humming noise getting rid of the silence that separated the two. A faint high-pitched noise could just be barely heard from the spinning video heads reading the magnetic signals on the tape, and finally did the video begin to play. . .
2004 - 2009
GEUMSAN, SOUTH KOREA
And here it begins - the beginning of the end, starting with a newborn, somewhere within the plains of South Korea - two overjoyed parents, a happy family, as were the lights flickering on a rainy day of June 1st. Life sprouted like a seed, and the plant had grown upwards, and she arose with a name lovely and as bright as the sun . . . “Hae-Ryung.”
It was that name they thought was perfect, as the small child grew ‘alone’ on a farm - her parents were far too busy to tend to her needs, as they were tending to the land instead, and so she was placed under the care of her grandmother, the only person the little girl ever seemed to acknowledge in those years. Her mother came around every now and then, tales to be told sitting within the pages she held in her palms, placing them on the top of that small table made of pine, blood, sweat, and tears. It barely stood up, each leg telling its own tale, yet it was the only thing they had.
Hae-Ryung silently sat at the table, falling into the unevenly sewn cushion of the chair, a bright crimson that radiated off a blood moon, the sunlight bouncing off of it and glittering the ceiling, crystals in a cave, her grandmother referred to it as. Most of the time, she would be seen sitting there, just barely peeking over the edge as a thick crayon was gripped in her left hand, and a small sheet of white in the other. And she would colour, alone, thinking about how pretty the stars shone at night. Diamonds in the sky they were, as she would lay upon the grassy terrain at a mere five years old, glaring up into the galaxy and reaching out silently. For what, nobody is sure of, and she would wake up back in her bed, as if everything was simply a dream, something that seemed so real but was so fake, just like her.
Just like her - a new entry into this world amongst the billions.
~
“Put the tape inside of the - the VCR, right here, yeah? There’s a little- opening, right here. Look- yeah, you got it.”
A short whirring noise echoed throughout the dimly lit room, the loading mechanism engaging as the tape was slowly but surely pulled into the VCR, and a satisfying clunk could be heard from the old machine as the cassette locked itself into place. A hand reached out for the small play button, marked by a little white arrow, gently pressing it. More mechanical sounds could be heard, whirring, continuing to go around as the VCR’s internal components work together to spool the tape, align the video heads, and start the playback, the distinctive humming noise getting rid of the silence that separated the two. A faint high-pitched noise could just be barely heard from the spinning video heads reading the magnetic signals on the tape, and finally did the video begin to play. . .
‘WONDER’
2010
GEUMSAN, SOUTH KOREA?
The soft hum of the VCR playing filled the silence, and the two began to watch the events unfold. A particular softness there was in the quality, vastly different from the sharpness of modern digital, and the palette of colours was somewhat subdued, the colours blending together like mashed paint - a washed out appearance. Vibrant colours were not as bright as they are now, the horizontal scan lines clearly visible on the video, and the image near the edges of the frame had a slightly darker and softer appearance - a natural ****og vignette effect.
It appeared to be a car - well, an extremely fucked up car, as bright lights from an emergency response team at the scene, people crowding the area like a flood as rain pattered down upon everyone, the wind making umbrellas fly about into the sky above. A day where everything seemed normal at first, but to them, it was the end. A line of text dotted the bottom of the screen as a lady with brunette hair and bright yellow raincoat grasped onto a microphone as she attempted to speak through it in a language different from Japan’s. . .
“Good evening, my name is Chae Chin-Sun on KBS, and tonight we bring you. . . a deeply, deeply sombre story that has shaken our community,”
The camera panned to the car that was the main focus of the scene, the vehicle’s entire bumper crushed by the tree that it had originally collided with. The tree held onto its last bits of bark to stand as some emergency workers could be seen loading three people onto separate stretchers, but it was more than difficult to make out the faces.
“A tragic car accident. . . occurred tonight, on Deok Seong-ri, leaving a family of three in- in critical condition,”
The news anchor’s hood flew off her head as she used a hand to try and protect herself from any of the flying debris from the storm above, a raging hurricane of hatred from who knows where. But one thing in particular was clear more than ever - that being the fact this moment in time would change her life for all the years to come. And she did not acknowledge this back then, refused to, refused to believe they were. . .
“The Shin family - parents Hyun-Ki and Narae, along with their six year old daughter Hae-Ryung, were on their way home during this rather horrible weather when their car skidded on the rain-slicked road and. . . collided head-on with a tree, just a few kilometres away from their residence,”
Her voice cracked a little bit, one particular girl viewing this story from outside exhaling as she watched. The real Hae, sitting here, quietly clenched her fist, the leather glove stretching as she did. The masked figure showed no expression, watching intently as much as Hae did.
“. . . Emergency services were quick to respond, but Hae-Ryung’s parents did not make it.”
The lady turned, gazing upon the scene silently as she herself, tried to not show emotion, tried to keep herself robotic just like every other news anchor appeared to be on these channels. But it was clear sorrow was in her eyes, just as much as anyone else was in the scene. Nobody had words, as there were no words to be spoken. And at that, did the news anchor continue to speak, but the voice faded out more and more and more in Hae’s head until the only thing she could hear was the rain storming down and eventually, the tape cutting out.
2010
The soft hum of the VCR playing filled the silence, and the two began to watch the events unfold. A particular softness there was in the quality, vastly different from the sharpness of modern digital, and the palette of colours was somewhat subdued, the colours blending together like mashed paint - a washed out appearance. Vibrant colours were not as bright as they are now, the horizontal scan lines clearly visible on the video, and the image near the edges of the frame had a slightly darker and softer appearance - a natural ****og vignette effect.
It appeared to be a car - well, an extremely fucked up car, as bright lights from an emergency response team at the scene, people crowding the area like a flood as rain pattered down upon everyone, the wind making umbrellas fly about into the sky above. A day where everything seemed normal at first, but to them, it was the end. A line of text dotted the bottom of the screen as a lady with brunette hair and bright yellow raincoat grasped onto a microphone as she attempted to speak through it in a language different from Japan’s. . .
“Good evening, my name is Chae Chin-Sun on KBS, and tonight we bring you. . . a deeply, deeply sombre story that has shaken our community,”
The camera panned to the car that was the main focus of the scene, the vehicle’s entire bumper crushed by the tree that it had originally collided with. The tree held onto its last bits of bark to stand as some emergency workers could be seen loading three people onto separate stretchers, but it was more than difficult to make out the faces.
“A tragic car accident. . . occurred tonight, on Deok Seong-ri, leaving a family of three in- in critical condition,”
The news anchor’s hood flew off her head as she used a hand to try and protect herself from any of the flying debris from the storm above, a raging hurricane of hatred from who knows where. But one thing in particular was clear more than ever - that being the fact this moment in time would change her life for all the years to come. And she did not acknowledge this back then, refused to, refused to believe they were. . .
“The Shin family - parents Hyun-Ki and Narae, along with their six year old daughter Hae-Ryung, were on their way home during this rather horrible weather when their car skidded on the rain-slicked road and. . . collided head-on with a tree, just a few kilometres away from their residence,”
Her voice cracked a little bit, one particular girl viewing this story from outside exhaling as she watched. The real Hae, sitting here, quietly clenched her fist, the leather glove stretching as she did. The masked figure showed no expression, watching intently as much as Hae did.
“. . . Emergency services were quick to respond, but Hae-Ryung’s parents did not make it.”
The lady turned, gazing upon the scene silently as she herself, tried to not show emotion, tried to keep herself robotic just like every other news anchor appeared to be on these channels. But it was clear sorrow was in her eyes, just as much as anyone else was in the scene. Nobody had words, as there were no words to be spoken. And at that, did the news anchor continue to speak, but the voice faded out more and more and more in Hae’s head until the only thing she could hear was the rain storming down and eventually, the tape cutting out.
‘HALCYON’
2011 - 2014
JAPAN
Hae-Ryung doesn’t remember anything that happened in those years. Not a single thing - none at all. When she had woken up after that accident, the medical team there asked her so, so many questions, yet she could not know what to say as there wasn’t anything to say. Her memory only got worse, and worse and worse, and it matched a grandmother who had dementia. At times, Hae couldn’t remember her own name, who she was, looking surprised as she looked into the mirror and saw someone who wasn’t herself.
“Who am I?”
That was a question she couldn’t solve in those moments, or well, throughout her whole life. Although now her memory has gotten a lot better than it was during her recovery, she still struggles with forgetfulness often, leaving her phone in her apartment to the extent of forgetting her entire wallet at times. It- it’s a cycle, going round and round and round when she closes her eyes and tries to remember, just to never actually do that it torments her mind. A jail where she can’t remember where she is, who she is. Worse than the real thing, as she was glued to a hospital bed, wire after wire after pipe or whatever strapped to her sucking her fucking soul out.
That was when she had met a particular man - rough crimson hair atop his head, spiking out in all sorts of different directions, a gruff look to his appearance. She wasn’t too sure why and- how he ended up in her hospital room, but the feeling of his hand touching her skin sent some sort of uncomfortable shiver down her spine that she moved her hand away from him, just a little. Hae looked the man up and down as he stood there on her right side, before the man turned towards the doctor who had just stepped into the room with the small ‘click-clack’ of her heels, stopping as one hand held a clipboard and the other a bright blue pen, as if she were staring at the sky all over again. But her sky right now was a fake paint with puffy white cartoonish clouds, one that reminded her of a daycare’s decor. It was unsettling, and she wished she could just leave already. That was when the man finally began to speak - to her or the doctor, Hae couldn’t seem to care less.
“So, your name is. . . Hae-Ryung, correct?”
It was a strange voice to hear - a language she didn’t have a tinge of understanding, but it sounded all too familiar. Yet the way her name rolled off his tongue sent some sort of off putting aura in the room that she couldn’t explain. A feeling that no matter what, it haunted her very being. Her honey gaze parted from his, towards the small, rectangular window with the blind clinging onto its last days of hanging just slightly upwards, not touching the bottom of the frame yet not having the entire window exposed. It wasn’t a great view to stare at either - staring at the fake blue sky would’ve been better - as the only thing she could see was building after building after building for as far as she could stare for. Glass reflected the sun’s light at noon, and it was almost blinding to stare at, but it was something. Not the farmlands that she missed so dearly, but it was. . . something.
~
The present day, as Hae-Ryung’s hand glided across the surface of the table, lifted up a notebook to which it was sitting on the floor. Moreso, a journal, the leather cover painted as if a five year old did it, white puffy clouds upon a blue sky and bright green hills that went on forever. A small grey strap was attached to it holding the thing from collapsing in on itself, and the paint chipped from the leather from wear, tear, and age. Hae looked up at the masked figure for a short moment, inspecting its movements as if she were in a ring with a lion, before pulling the strap to the side and flipping it open, the echo of a book creaking open filling the void of stillness. Hae then turned the book towards the masked one’s direction, quietly encouraging them to read it.
The first page appeared to be crinkly, and old. Ink was smeared across it, blurring some words. . .
dear DiaRy,
my namE is hae-Ryung Shin! I’m SEVen years ol! My mOmmy is GONE. and my DAddY is GONE. I am at the HOSPITAL! beacausec i fell aslewep! THe sky is still HERE even tHough there is nO sun. It was SO brigh. i can’t see, where is mOMMY! WOTS Of buttons and beepy noises, like a ROBOT. Beep boppy. but the doctor told mE i can’t boop buttons, so i was vewy SAD. there was a lady in a Funny hat and she gave me a cool bwracelet witH my NAME on it!! !
this place sMMMells weird. i don’t like it. room beepy. THErere are funny looking curtins in window! white, like snowy. ILIKE snow. i asked funny hat lady where momMY AND dADYD are, but she sAIIID they back soon! i saved my ice creAM for them! the y also gave me qcqyaons to draw with, so i drew a BIIIIG scary monster!!!!!!!!! and mY daddy fiting it with LASERS!!
i hwope they com back. wher e is mommy and daDDY/? its woneley.
- hae
Hae looked up, exhaling deeply. She seemed. . . bothered, holding what seemed to be genuine emotion after reading her very own handwriting from so long ago. Some sort of flame was lit that couldn’t be burned out, no matter how hard she tried. And in that gaze, it was clear she missed those halcyon days.
2011 - 2014
Hae-Ryung doesn’t remember anything that happened in those years. Not a single thing - none at all. When she had woken up after that accident, the medical team there asked her so, so many questions, yet she could not know what to say as there wasn’t anything to say. Her memory only got worse, and worse and worse, and it matched a grandmother who had dementia. At times, Hae couldn’t remember her own name, who she was, looking surprised as she looked into the mirror and saw someone who wasn’t herself.
“Who am I?”
That was a question she couldn’t solve in those moments, or well, throughout her whole life. Although now her memory has gotten a lot better than it was during her recovery, she still struggles with forgetfulness often, leaving her phone in her apartment to the extent of forgetting her entire wallet at times. It- it’s a cycle, going round and round and round when she closes her eyes and tries to remember, just to never actually do that it torments her mind. A jail where she can’t remember where she is, who she is. Worse than the real thing, as she was glued to a hospital bed, wire after wire after pipe or whatever strapped to her sucking her fucking soul out.
That was when she had met a particular man - rough crimson hair atop his head, spiking out in all sorts of different directions, a gruff look to his appearance. She wasn’t too sure why and- how he ended up in her hospital room, but the feeling of his hand touching her skin sent some sort of uncomfortable shiver down her spine that she moved her hand away from him, just a little. Hae looked the man up and down as he stood there on her right side, before the man turned towards the doctor who had just stepped into the room with the small ‘click-clack’ of her heels, stopping as one hand held a clipboard and the other a bright blue pen, as if she were staring at the sky all over again. But her sky right now was a fake paint with puffy white cartoonish clouds, one that reminded her of a daycare’s decor. It was unsettling, and she wished she could just leave already. That was when the man finally began to speak - to her or the doctor, Hae couldn’t seem to care less.
“So, your name is. . . Hae-Ryung, correct?”
It was a strange voice to hear - a language she didn’t have a tinge of understanding, but it sounded all too familiar. Yet the way her name rolled off his tongue sent some sort of off putting aura in the room that she couldn’t explain. A feeling that no matter what, it haunted her very being. Her honey gaze parted from his, towards the small, rectangular window with the blind clinging onto its last days of hanging just slightly upwards, not touching the bottom of the frame yet not having the entire window exposed. It wasn’t a great view to stare at either - staring at the fake blue sky would’ve been better - as the only thing she could see was building after building after building for as far as she could stare for. Glass reflected the sun’s light at noon, and it was almost blinding to stare at, but it was something. Not the farmlands that she missed so dearly, but it was. . . something.
~
The present day, as Hae-Ryung’s hand glided across the surface of the table, lifted up a notebook to which it was sitting on the floor. Moreso, a journal, the leather cover painted as if a five year old did it, white puffy clouds upon a blue sky and bright green hills that went on forever. A small grey strap was attached to it holding the thing from collapsing in on itself, and the paint chipped from the leather from wear, tear, and age. Hae looked up at the masked figure for a short moment, inspecting its movements as if she were in a ring with a lion, before pulling the strap to the side and flipping it open, the echo of a book creaking open filling the void of stillness. Hae then turned the book towards the masked one’s direction, quietly encouraging them to read it.
The first page appeared to be crinkly, and old. Ink was smeared across it, blurring some words. . .
dear DiaRy,
my namE is hae-Ryung Shin! I’m SEVen years ol! My mOmmy is GONE. and my DAddY is GONE. I am at the HOSPITAL! beacausec i fell aslewep! THe sky is still HERE even tHough there is nO sun. It was SO brigh. i can’t see, where is mOMMY! WOTS Of buttons and beepy noises, like a ROBOT. Beep boppy. but the doctor told mE i can’t boop buttons, so i was vewy SAD. there was a lady in a Funny hat and she gave me a cool bwracelet witH my NAME on it!! !
this place sMMMells weird. i don’t like it. room beepy. THErere are funny looking curtins in window! white, like snowy. ILIKE snow. i asked funny hat lady where momMY AND dADYD are, but she sAIIID they back soon! i saved my ice creAM for them! the y also gave me qcqyaons to draw with, so i drew a BIIIIG scary monster!!!!!!!!! and mY daddy fiting it with LASERS!!
i hwope they com back. wher e is mommy and daDDY/? its woneley.
- hae
Hae looked up, exhaling deeply. She seemed. . . bothered, holding what seemed to be genuine emotion after reading her very own handwriting from so long ago. Some sort of flame was lit that couldn’t be burned out, no matter how hard she tried. And in that gaze, it was clear she missed those halcyon days.
‘AURORA’
2015
JAPAN
As she grew older, it was alongside that old, gruff man - ‘Mister Grump,’ she would always refer to him, despite everything. His real name?Norio Watanabe. Hae wasn’t fully aware of exactly what he was, nor was she rather comfortable near him, but came to be under his care when she was able to be released from that hellhole hospital. She took on that same last name as well - the ‘Watanabe’ name - one that she would be referred to as in the years to come. It was strange, not using the name her parents gave her, and whenever she would ask him where her mother and father were, it was the same response that everyone told her. But she didn’t believe them, even as a small child, she could never believe them. Her mother and father- they were alive, right? Right?
“They’ll be back soon,” he said. “They’ll be back soon.”
That same crimson-haired man repeated those words to her, like a mantra, to the point she would sit at the windowsill of the apartment complex they were situated in to stare off into the distant fog and A small, bland 2 bedroom place - didn’t seem like a lot of yen, yet it was so eerily similar to home, even if they were thousands of kilometres away. ‘Home’ wasn’t even an apartment, yet something about it was nostalgic in a way that Hae had believed that the table in the dining room was the same one her parents had sitting in the kitchen where she would sit with her crayons. Was she hallucinating it all? The little girl wasn’t exactly sure, or if it was just a strange sense of deja vu. There was a small leather couch sitting in the corner, grey like how the clouds would look when it was holding onto the last bits of rain it could hold before it all came down like a hurricane. The feeling of it all was empty but full, reminiscent of a stuffy nose in winter.
Where was the ‘home’ the little girl could vaguely remember? Why was she here? Her head turned to ‘Norio,’ the man that claimed to be her. . . ‘father.’ The girl knew better than this, this man was not her father, would never be her father. And on some days when the storm became unbearable, the sounds of yelling and screaming could be heard from the outside hallway as little Hae huddled up in a corner, covering her ears, weeping and wailing and kicking her legs, begging for her parents to knock on the door and save her from him. He told her they’ll be back soon! And those words became something that she wouldn’t forget as glass shards flew about and the ringing of her ears and her covering her face from the enraged man that claimed to be her ‘father’ who never truly was her ‘father’ no matter how hard he tried to convince her.
And on other days would he be sitting at that same windowsill, a small white and orange object in his hand that Hae couldn’t recognize, but she would waddle away coughing loudly and having to climb up that fake granite counter on that old wobbly chair to the perfect painted white cupboards to grab the cough droplets. She remembered ‘Norio’ did the same thing, and as she plopped one in her mouth, her face visibly scrunched up like she just tasted the most horrid thing in her life. Spitting it out instantly, a light clink echoed throughout the apartment the moment it made contact with the hardwood, and the man’s head panned straight to the culprit standing on top of the counter with her hands in the cupboard.
Then the next moment was a little blonde girl being dragged across the floor kicking and screaming for her life by the roots of her hair, a heavy calloused hand slamming her against the empty wall. . . and the moment after that, one could only see the colour the same as the man’s hair. Hae doesn’t remember much other than the wails for help at the top of someone’s lungs - a child’s lungs - her lungs, begging for life and grabbing death by its neck and refusing to let go. She would wake up later on, slumped over as she dragged herself to the bathroom and up the small step stool, only to look at her reflection and ask herself if this was her, or some monster that ‘Norio’ had created? There didn’t seem to be an answer, yet the scars littered her countenance, skin flaking out in bits and pieces and outlined with red dripping down her forehead, clinging to her blonde hair to stain it said otherwise.
“You’re not my father. . . where’s my father. . . ?”
Those were the words she cried out to the darkness, rocking back and forth like an infant in a cradle trying to find some solace, her aurora.
2015
As she grew older, it was alongside that old, gruff man - ‘Mister Grump,’ she would always refer to him, despite everything. His real name?
“They’ll be back soon,” he said. “They’ll be back soon.”
That same crimson-haired man repeated those words to her, like a mantra, to the point she would sit at the windowsill of the apartment complex they were situated in to stare off into the distant fog and A small, bland 2 bedroom place - didn’t seem like a lot of yen, yet it was so eerily similar to home, even if they were thousands of kilometres away. ‘Home’ wasn’t even an apartment, yet something about it was nostalgic in a way that Hae had believed that the table in the dining room was the same one her parents had sitting in the kitchen where she would sit with her crayons. Was she hallucinating it all? The little girl wasn’t exactly sure, or if it was just a strange sense of deja vu. There was a small leather couch sitting in the corner, grey like how the clouds would look when it was holding onto the last bits of rain it could hold before it all came down like a hurricane. The feeling of it all was empty but full, reminiscent of a stuffy nose in winter.
Where was the ‘home’ the little girl could vaguely remember? Why was she here? Her head turned to ‘Norio,’ the man that claimed to be her. . . ‘father.’ The girl knew better than this, this man was not her father, would never be her father. And on some days when the storm became unbearable, the sounds of yelling and screaming could be heard from the outside hallway as little Hae huddled up in a corner, covering her ears, weeping and wailing and kicking her legs, begging for her parents to knock on the door and save her from him. He told her they’ll be back soon! And those words became something that she wouldn’t forget as glass shards flew about and the ringing of her ears and her covering her face from the enraged man that claimed to be her ‘father’ who never truly was her ‘father’ no matter how hard he tried to convince her.
And on other days would he be sitting at that same windowsill, a small white and orange object in his hand that Hae couldn’t recognize, but she would waddle away coughing loudly and having to climb up that fake granite counter on that old wobbly chair to the perfect painted white cupboards to grab the cough droplets. She remembered ‘Norio’ did the same thing, and as she plopped one in her mouth, her face visibly scrunched up like she just tasted the most horrid thing in her life. Spitting it out instantly, a light clink echoed throughout the apartment the moment it made contact with the hardwood, and the man’s head panned straight to the culprit standing on top of the counter with her hands in the cupboard.
Then the next moment was a little blonde girl being dragged across the floor kicking and screaming for her life by the roots of her hair, a heavy calloused hand slamming her against the empty wall. . . and the moment after that, one could only see the colour the same as the man’s hair. Hae doesn’t remember much other than the wails for help at the top of someone’s lungs - a child’s lungs - her lungs, begging for life and grabbing death by its neck and refusing to let go. She would wake up later on, slumped over as she dragged herself to the bathroom and up the small step stool, only to look at her reflection and ask herself if this was her, or some monster that ‘Norio’ had created? There didn’t seem to be an answer, yet the scars littered her countenance, skin flaking out in bits and pieces and outlined with red dripping down her forehead, clinging to her blonde hair to stain it said otherwise.
“You’re not my father. . . where’s my father. . . ?”
Those were the words she cried out to the darkness, rocking back and forth like an infant in a cradle trying to find some solace, her aurora.
‘MEMORIAM’
I DON’T KNOW.
WHERE AM I?
The hum of something echoed throughout the cabin, and the gentle murmur of other voices alongside a short, constant beep. It was dim - more than dim, in fact, as the girl’s head turned to the side to see a sleeping figure sitting beside her, leaning against the blinded window, deep in his dreams. She wasn’t a dreamer, as every dream she ever had was only a tsunami of anxiety-inducing nightmares with the sleep paralysis demon known as her supposed ‘father’ haunting them. Yet he was no longer her problem, was he? Instead of him being the sleep paralysis demon that feasted on her fears, she would become worse than anyone would have ever thought. But, of course, her story may already be terrible, but this is only a vague glimpse of the very surface, the thin dust layer on the table the two people sat across each other on.
The blonde reached out, clicking the small ‘eject’ button and watching as things whirred about before popping out the tape, flipping it around to look at the date taped on with painter’s and barely visible Sharpie. Humming under her breath, she tossed the old, janky thing to the side almost angrily, watching it shatter into pieces the moment it hit the cyan coloured concrete wall. Muttering a few words under her breath, she brought her attention back to the ‘interviewer,’ holding her hands to her head, almost as if she were in a crazed, dreamlike state. I’m going insane, I’m going insane, I’m going insane, were the words Hae had silently repeated to herself over and over and over as if she were singing the chorus to a song of lies, as the world spun around in circles mocking her of her guilt, her mistakes, her regret, her hatred, all her negative emotions combining into some sort of amalgamated monster in the prison that is her mind where it was only her and that amongst the blood-stained brick walls of a labyrinth that went on for as far as her eyes could perceive.
“COMING TO THIS PLACE KILLED MY SOUL, MY BEING, THE VERY LIFE THAT LIVED IN ME! THERE IS NO LIFE IN THIS TOWN, THERE IS ONLY HATE, AND HATE, AND HATE, AND DESTRUCTION! AND NO MATTER HOW HARD I FUCKING TRY, I CANNOT LEAVE! GET ME OUT OF HERE!”
She wheezed out for air - short, quick breaths stuffed by the scent of dust and copper filling her lungs. A puff out, gazing downwards towards her gloved hands once more, before whimpering such quiet, such sweet silent words. “Who am I to think I’m a good person?” the girl questioned herself, squeezing her hands into tight fists that she could feel the blood escape her fingers. “I’ve hurt so many people, and I never meant to, I never meant to. . .” Her voice matched that of a child’s, trembling and weak, just like her, a little sheep. She was weak, no matter how hard she had tried to convince herself she was not. No matter how many fights she had won, no matter how many fights she had lost, the world had deemed her as nothing more than a twig hanging off its last pieces on a large oak tree, about to fall straight to her inevitable demise. A frail, feeble little thing Hae-Ryung was.
“I’m so alone. . .”
Her words trailed off.
“And it’s all my fault, Itu.”
I DON’T KNOW.
WHERE AM I?
The hum of something echoed throughout the cabin, and the gentle murmur of other voices alongside a short, constant beep. It was dim - more than dim, in fact, as the girl’s head turned to the side to see a sleeping figure sitting beside her, leaning against the blinded window, deep in his dreams. She wasn’t a dreamer, as every dream she ever had was only a tsunami of anxiety-inducing nightmares with the sleep paralysis demon known as her supposed ‘father’ haunting them. Yet he was no longer her problem, was he? Instead of him being the sleep paralysis demon that feasted on her fears, she would become worse than anyone would have ever thought. But, of course, her story may already be terrible, but this is only a vague glimpse of the very surface, the thin dust layer on the table the two people sat across each other on.
The blonde reached out, clicking the small ‘eject’ button and watching as things whirred about before popping out the tape, flipping it around to look at the date taped on with painter’s and barely visible Sharpie. Humming under her breath, she tossed the old, janky thing to the side almost angrily, watching it shatter into pieces the moment it hit the cyan coloured concrete wall. Muttering a few words under her breath, she brought her attention back to the ‘interviewer,’ holding her hands to her head, almost as if she were in a crazed, dreamlike state. I’m going insane, I’m going insane, I’m going insane, were the words Hae had silently repeated to herself over and over and over as if she were singing the chorus to a song of lies, as the world spun around in circles mocking her of her guilt, her mistakes, her regret, her hatred, all her negative emotions combining into some sort of amalgamated monster in the prison that is her mind where it was only her and that amongst the blood-stained brick walls of a labyrinth that went on for as far as her eyes could perceive.
“COMING TO THIS PLACE KILLED MY SOUL, MY BEING, THE VERY LIFE THAT LIVED IN ME! THERE IS NO LIFE IN THIS TOWN, THERE IS ONLY HATE, AND HATE, AND HATE, AND DESTRUCTION! AND NO MATTER HOW HARD I FUCKING TRY, I CANNOT LEAVE! GET ME OUT OF HERE!”
She wheezed out for air - short, quick breaths stuffed by the scent of dust and copper filling her lungs. A puff out, gazing downwards towards her gloved hands once more, before whimpering such quiet, such sweet silent words. “Who am I to think I’m a good person?” the girl questioned herself, squeezing her hands into tight fists that she could feel the blood escape her fingers. “I’ve hurt so many people, and I never meant to, I never meant to. . .” Her voice matched that of a child’s, trembling and weak, just like her, a little sheep. She was weak, no matter how hard she had tried to convince herself she was not. No matter how many fights she had won, no matter how many fights she had lost, the world had deemed her as nothing more than a twig hanging off its last pieces on a large oak tree, about to fall straight to her inevitable demise. A frail, feeble little thing Hae-Ryung was.
“I’m so alone. . .”
Her words trailed off.
“And it’s all my fault, Itu.”
Describe an interaction that your character may have as a black market dealer: (This can be anything — a weapon deal, an event they may be involved in, or maybe an interaction with a gang)
This place was so desolate, so unforgiving, so. . . unhygienic, everything about it reeked of ‘disgust’ in the heavy air weighing on one’s shoulders, the gentle sound of water hitting the brick walls and waving back with every step made in the murk. A dimly lit underground labyrinth it was, the damp walls glistening just barely with an eerie sheen. And the odour was rotten, pungent, clinging to the clothes of the girl as she continued to wade through the narrow tunnel with the sound of water in the distance trickling down its path, and the strange sensation of slimy moss and debris clutching to her as she trudged didn’t help her case at all. The cold muck seeping into her shoes, sending uncomfortable shivers up and down her spine, and yet all her senses were assaulted with an earthy mix of mould and mugginess.
God, did this place reek of nothing but melancholy as the rats scurried away into hiding. Of course, did the woman trailing down the never ending maze of sewage seem to care? She never did care, as she clung onto the flickering flashlight that just barely lit up the surrounding area in her right hand, swaying it around side to side with every tread, every ripple in the unmoving pools she made. As if at any moment, someone would jump out from the darkness from the front, the back, any side of her, like she were a security guard at a museum where anything could become alive, her worst nightmares looming over her shoulder. What would a lady be doing in these sewers without a reason? Suddenly did her flashlight run out of its last bits of light, and she was enveloped in nothing but tenebrosity. Her eyes took a few minutes to get adjusted to the gloom, and soon enough she had found the exact thing she was looking for - a wooden crate, bright red labelling reading ‘FRAGILE’ stamped across it on all the sides. It wasn’t too large, yet too small either, as she brought herself up from the water and the small pitter patter of water dripped down onto the ground to make her way towards her target.
That was, well, before another silhouette that wasn’t her own made its’ grand entrance from the ink, covered in black from head to toe and a deep grey mask - a ballistic mask - covering whatever expression appeared on their face as they dragged an item that made a loud screeching noise against the stone, and as the woman squinted, she was able to make out a dented, heavily used baseball bat consisting of metal - and unfortunately did the next sound she hear was a high-pitched clang rupturing the waters, resonating with a metallic twang that pierced the silence. She could feel the wood splinters explode outward in a chaotic dance, sticking to the walls and her own clothing like magnets, and snaps and cracks until it all comes tumbling down. In those moments did she finally step towards the culprit of her now damaged order, watching as two or three spray cans and a single ballistic find their way into the sewer water.
Perhaps under that mask was an ‘oh fuck’ face, and it most definitely was.
“What are you doing here . . .” Hae-Ryung paused, waltzing towards the masked person as she looked down at her gloved hand, every crack of leather on the surface, and then her attention made her way up to the masculine figure standing before her. “Touching things that don’t belong to you? Don’t you realise the. . . consequences? Or are you too naive, too- hmm, childish?” the blonde’s hand reached out towards the male, yet he stood in a battering stance, holding his bat towards her head as if indirectly threatening her to step away or he would swing. Oh, if only he knew who he was about to brawl - not an inexperienced fighter, that’s for sure. She reached behind her, pulling out a staff from its sling - one made of pure metal, painted with gold and the head of a serpent moulded to the end, penetrative emerald eyes catching the gaze of anyone who stared. Holding it with both hands, her left placed itself at the bottom of the staff, and her right was placed higher up from the other. And tapping her fingers on the glittering surface, her speech had a touch of a playful charm, almost like she could not take any of this seriously. “Are you sure you want to resort to violence this quick, little one? Quite hasty, are we? Of course, I wouldn’t deny dancing with you one last time,” her voice cracked, just barely as she spoke that last bit, yet it would not be heard to the other.
In her mind, she didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to do this, she was weak, she was weak, she wasn’t strong, she was FRAIL AND FRAGILE!
The male began to speak in lower pitch, smooth and controlled in a way yet carried the weight of a million words, “This shit’s mine,” he told her, “I don’t fuckin’ know what’s your deal,” he continued to go. And each word only made the woman’s blood boil more, and more, and more, until it bubbled over the edge and just like that did she instantly pivot on her back foot and transfer her weight to her front, bringing the staff down and the serpent’s head strike diagonally downwards towards the male’s left ankle, slamming the nose right into his poor, poor old thing. Screeching in pain, the male raised his foot up hopping back and forth on the damp surface, yet he appeared to keep his cool and rushed forwards, attempting to slam the end of the bat against her temple, yet Hae was quicker, moving her staff in a swift and simple motion to parry the attack, redirecting the force of the bat away from her. The woman gritted her teeth as she took a step back, then the male took it as a chance to strike once more, scrambling towards her to try and make a hit right at her arm that was gripping the staff for dear life - clang, after clang, after clang could be heard, like two swordsmen were at war with one another, blocking each other’s attacks as she continued to step forwards, forcing the male back with each parry. Sweat trailed down her cheeks even though it wasn’t visible through her own mask, and it was the same for the male, before she could not parry any longer and she was striked right in the head with the baseball bat.
He thought he was winning, a small cackle emerging from his throat as Hae gripped the stone wall for support, one hand throwing itself at her head to try and rub off the oncoming migraine, crouched over as the echoing steps of the male came closer and closer towards her, his laughing turning into maniac cackling as he raised the bat above his head, more than ready to rid himself of this stranger - everything was so, so dizzy, she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel, as she reached out for the stars and it all came rushing down with the serpent’s head slamming against the male’s right foot unexpectedly, shattering any bones the metal came in contact with. He fell to his knees before Hae, the girl grabbing him by the hair and shoving his head straight into the sewer water, her eyes glistening with tears as she kept her hand there, watching him flail around and about, screaming under the murk and begging for his life to be spared. The ticking of a clock banged in her head with every second, until . . . there was no more.
Bubbles arose to the surface, and she kicked the male’s body down with it, staring at the floating body. That was when she had fell to her own knees, gasping for air amidst the flowing tears, crying out to the tunnels-
“What have I done? What have I done?”
Hae’s head panned down towards the lifeless figure, and she realised what she had done. Looking down at her hands - the very hands that just murdered a being. These were not her hands, there were a murderer’s hands that she was staring down at. And her reflection in the water wasn’t herself, it was a person without a heart, one that was ripped out of her body years ago and is unable to feel it beat.
How is't with me, when every noise appalls me?
What hands are here? Ha, they pluck out mine eyes.
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red.
Describe any other additional information that is notable in considering your character for the role of a black market dealer:
If in the chance I am to be accepted, I will be moving my Shrine character to my alternative.
Do the stars shine at night? Or is it all just a dream?
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