Forgiven But Never Forgotten
A character document/biography of Adaryn Rodrique
FORMAT BY SIMPLEZ
Before We Start :
- Don't take any information ICLY. If you do I will find out and I will steal all your matching socks.
- this is from the characters ICLY perspective, writing about themselves.
- Credits for formatting go to the talented writer SIMPLEZ.
All rules aside, I hope you enjoy reading.
STATS : 1,341 words
P E R S O N A L I N F O R M A T I O N
INHERITED NAME: Adaryn Rodrique (Underline is inherited).
BIRTH NAME: Adaryn Thompson.
AGE: 35.
NATIONALITY: Welsh.
PLACE OF BIRTH: Cwmbran, South Wales.
DATE OF BIRTH: 22nd February 1988.
MARITAL STATUS: Divorced, single.
RELIGIOUS BELIEFS: Christian (leaning to Atheist).
OCCUPATION: News Reporter.
KNOWN LANGUAGES: Welsh, Spanish, Gaelic & Japanese.
O T H E R
S. P. E. C. I. A. L +:
Strength - 6 : I grew up learning the basics of fighting. I know how to defend myself, and attack others, but I'm not the strongest physically.
Perception - 8 : Having worked within the news for a long time, I have acquired a well versed perception of almost everything.
Endurance - 5 : My Endurance is average. I don't run for hours on end without breaking a sweat, but I won't collapse 3 miles into a short run.
Charisma - 7 : Being charismatic is one of the many traits I possess.
Intelligence - 5 : Neither smart nor dumb, I am purely average.
Agility - 3 : I lack a high agility level. You won't see me jumping over walls or doing jobs at top speed.
Luck - 4 : I've never been lucky, and as many know me, I am always forgiven, but never forgotten. That is where luck failed me.
Health - 2 : I am ill almost every day. I have cancer, an allergy to cats, inflamed lungs, insomnia, in no way am I healthy.
Morality - 8 : I'm an adult, I know when someone's being an arsehole.
Privilege - 4 : No one grows up with the perfect family, perfect home, perfect life. No one will ever get that privilege.
Sanity - 2 : No one is ever really... Sane shall we say.
Forgiven but never forgotten
Chapters of a life
Life... Sucks. And sometimes, it sucks from the second you're born...
On the 22nd February, 1988, I was born. I don't remember my childhood much... I usually just push it down, and pretend it didn't happen, but, it bloody hurts to know other people had it better. I remember some bits, my mother's laugh, my father's, bright bright smile... It felt good to be a kid... But those bright smiles and happy laughs, only covered up all the upset beneath the skin of my family. I was the only child, their "prized possession", sometimes, I wish I grew up normal. Underneath the happy smiles, birthday gifts, and the kind seeming family, there were secrets, secrets that to this day, I am still, the only person who knows them. Father, was not... A good man, shall we say? Showering me with gifts, mother wondered, all the time, where oh where, the money came from. We didn't know, until he was too deep in his own mess, to save him. He was a man of illegal work, a thug, for a local gang, specifically. Oh, if I could just have picked out all the bad in Cwmbran back in those days, maybe things would've turned out different. He'd earned all this money from loaning, and selling underaged alcohol. My mother was broken the day she got the call... I still remember the constant ringing of that phone, the sound of her knees hitting the floor... It haunts me to this day, not the fact my father had been murdered, for he dug that hole himself, but it haunts me, how loving someone so much, can drive you to such sad reactions. Pitiful.
After my father's death, mother grew sick. Sicker, and sicker, until I was no longer able to hug her. Her funeral was held shortly after... Such a sad feeling in the air, but I promised myself I wouldn't cry, nor would I end up so sick from loss like her. After that, was the thousands of foster homes. Parents don't want a child, so ridden of emotion from seeing what it does to people. I was brought in and out of foster care, over and over. Like an endless loop, until the storm.
Chapter 2 : The storm
An endless loop, that ends... Nothing is endless, everything has an end, but sometimes that ending isn't as expected. I was eventually fostered in Japan, Nagoya, and within days, they wanted me gone, so I ran. I left, fled from their home. I don't remember leaving, only waking up cold, and in pain. That was when the storm, truly stirred. I could feel ropes, burning my skin, they were tied too tight for me, no one wanted me to leave. They had obscured faces, they were masked. I remember feeling a oozing sensation in my chest. Who were they? That, is what I will never know. I was blindfolded, but I remember their words...
"What do we do with her?"
"Kill her, she means nothing to no one."
"No... I see usefulness in this one."
I remember, the feeling of a large pain in the back of my head, and then everything went black. When I woke up, I was in a bed, people were surrounding me, people crouched by my bed, offers were bandaged.
"She's awake!"
The oozing feeling in my chest was gone, it turns out I had been stabbed on my journey there, although I was now bandaged, healing slowly. The place I had brought was called Haifuraiyā, It was a group of fighters, those who showed potential to the groups leader. The name meant "The high-flyers", those who showed potential could fly high, or fall low... I wouldn't fall low. The group's goal was to remake the world, to let those not worthy perish, and to let those with potential rebuild society. I don't know why they believed I had potential, but I did. I was only 15, when this all happened, but they trained me to fight, and the leader saw a high level of potential in me. Shoichi, was their leaders name, and we grew close. Within a couple years, I rose through the "Ranks" of the group, until I was only below Shoichi. He was like a father to me, I still see him as one, even if he's dead.
We had managed to take control of the poorer areas in Nagoya, but that's when we went to war. Another group in the area, Saitei, wanted our land, so we fought... And lost. Most who survived fled, others stayed, and were arrested in the aftermath, and some joined Saitei, I did none of those. Shoichi was killed within the battle, I saw him die... I don't know how I didn't die, I deserved to. I barely thought, I watched my members die, and I deserve to be dead for that. I brought Shoichi's body away from the chaos, and I dumped it, in a river... I knew he wouldn't get a proper funeral, so I left him in the river, it was the easiest thing to do. I promised him we would prevail, and we didn't, I forever owe my life to his family.
After the war, Saitei eventually was brought down by law enforcement, one of our members had snitched, and down they went. Since then, I stayed away from Nagoya, I was not safe there, too many people knew me, I couldn't risk being targeted. I eventually moved to Karakura, promising myself, one day, I would rebuild Haifuraiyā, but then I was met with those spray paintings... That was when I was met with Forelli.
Chapter 3 : Long live Forelli
T.B.W
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