Post by "Wren" on Feb 16, 2016 22:09:59 GMT -8
Basic Information
Nickname(s): Wren, Wednesday, the Poser, Zombie, witch, Princess.
Age: 16
Height: 5'1"
Weight: 110lbs
Blood Type: A-
Gender: cisgender female
Sexuality: demisexual, demiromantic.
Eye Color: brown
Hair: black
Pass Time Information
Hobbies: Talents:
Favorite things: The colour black, death, decay, QUIET, anatomy,
Miscellaneous: REALLY LIKES makeup.
Mental Information
She's brutally honest and says what is on her mind, if she says anything at all. More often than not, she'd be more inclined to roll her eyes and walk away from someone who is annoying her. Which might be just about everyone. Personality: Wren is very blaisè. Not much fazes her... or excites her... or angers her. Most things disgust her though, and as far as she is concerned, that's as emotional as she's going to get.
Mentality: "Everything is pointless."
Ideal: Belief: "We are only genuine in our final moments."
Physical Information
Build: Waifish, slender, bony.Defining Marks: Nothing worth mentioning, other than a septum peircing and several earrings in both ears. She's actually pretty scar free
Description: Wren is a slight, vertically challenged young woman who wears clothes that are torn up. She walks with are quiet grace, not unlike that of a dancer. Long black hair is frequently styled in different ways to reflect her mood, but the one constant about her appearance is her adherence to wearing black. Only. Black. Facially, she could be considered pretty if it weren't for her consistent resting bitch-face, which she is making no move to correct.
History Information
History: Tom Renwick and Gail Armitage met in 1993 while on holiday in Belize, a smattering of coincidences that placed them in the same situation by pure happenstance on numerous occasions; in the hotel, at the same SCUBA tours three separate times, and next to each other on the plane home. A chat revealed that they both lived in Yorkshire in England, only a few kilometres apart. The pair exchanged numbers and the rest, as they say, is history.
Shortly after getting married in 1995, the Renwick's emmigrated to California in an effort to obtain their instructor licenses in SCUBA diving, and host tours up and down the Pacific Coast for the adventurous. After a bit of a rocky start, their business began to burgeon, just in time for the arrival of their first child, William, in 1997. Their bubbly baby boy was nothing short of a delight, happy and social and enthusiastic. He was such an easy child that when Gail found herself pregnant again a couple of years later, the two parents were ecstatic.
The baby girl, Anastasia Renwick, was born on January 18th, 2000 without any fanfare, despite all attempts. She was silent save for a few displeased grunts when the doctors prodded her to cry, which she eventually did, when she was good and ready. But this auspicious beginning marked her for what she would become for the rest of her life.
Even growing up, Anastasia (who hated her name with a passion the moment she was called 'Princess' by an overly affectionate aunt) was petulant and sullen, combative and stubborn when she wasn't rolling her eyes or snorting in disgust at her brother when he called for attention for his most recent stunt that would doubtless land him in the hospital. Where her brother was the sun, she was the moon, but her parents, some how, managed to love them both equally. Even if one was just a touch easier to get along with than the other.
At the tender age of four, Wren, now so called because had no middle name and preferred a shortened version of her last name to her first, was enrolled in a ballet class, as a last ditch effort to socialize the distant child with other kids. The socializing didn't work, but she did take to dancing quite well, so much so that when the time came for her to attend school, the Renwick's enrolled her in Loyola Village Elementary school. Though she never quite hit it off with other kids, preferring to read rather than talk with others, Wren excelled in dance. She was classically trained in singing, traditional drawing and acting, though her lack of expression with her voice and face had her best suited for dance and art. Academically, she was above average, and yet unremarkable, mostly due to lack of participation. By the time she was seven, she had breezed through nearly every book in the school library and had moved on to the books her parents kept on higher bookshelves.
It was during movie night at the tender age of eight that Wren found a resonance with something other than her books, a glimpse of a culture that opened her eyes to the notion that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't alone in the world. Her father's choices for the evening were Beetlejuice, and the ever classic The Addams Family. For the first time in all the years their parents could recall, Wren was actively engaged with the movie, drinking in every single detail. She even laughed.
A month later, she'd saved up enough of her allowance to buy a tube of black lipstick at the Halloween store. Due to her age, her parents, who were rightly shocked, refused to let her daughter wear the lipstick outside of the house until she was a more appropriate age.
"When is that?" she demanded to know, petulant as ever.
Tom and Gail exchanged a glance, Never, they hoped.
"When you're twelve, dear. That's when I started wearing makeup." Her mother replied.
Wren looked back and forth between her parents, suspicious of this sudden rule to how she could and couldn't look. They'd never minded before. Of course, this wouldn't stop her from wearing all black and colouring her fingernails with black sharpie whenever she could, or wearing it around the house when her parents weren't home, but it certainly did make her feel put out. Her parents were usually very supportive.
"Can I get that in writing?"
To amuse her, (though they were surprised at the precociousness, as, while argumentative, Wren was typically obedient) they did as she asked. She kept the paper stuffed between her mattress and the boxspring, and the very day she turned twelve four years later, Wren walked down stairs with black lipstick on and a full face of makeup (tutorials are a beautiful thing), and slapped the paper down on the kitchen table. Not one word about her appearance was uttered among her family again.
Her school, however, was a different story. It became a frequent habit for Wren to find herself in detention for breaking the school dress code in both the sense of her uniform (more than once was dyed black 'by accident') and the ever increasing wildness of her makeup as she experimented with her new found identity. She was teased for it, even ostracized, but most kids were too focused on their own education to really care about what Wren looked like. It wound up being that she had no friends to speak of, but that suited her fine; she was much more content to be on her own.
Well... no friends save for one.
Her parents had become friends with their new neighbour before Wren had after she changed their brakes, but twice a month they would ask the kindly, if a little awkward, mechanic to keep an eye on the kids for a night while Gail and Tom went on a date. William was smitten with the tall, muscular woman who was only a few years younger than his own mother, but Wren was much more slow to trust, suspicious of her compliments and genial attitude, and, most of all, her tactful silence when in Wren's presence. Though, eventually, this was what drew Wren to Delilah; a soft laugh, a galaxy of scars, a bright smile and a sharp wit that knew, unlike the rest of her family, when to shut up. It wasn't long before Wren was visiting Delilah's garage after school, sitting on an overturned bucket and reading in a companionable silence as the older woman worked. While William's crush waned and moved on to more attainable girls, Wren's disinterest evolved into an appreciation of a kindred spirit, and though Wren had outgrown the need for babysitting, Delilah is to this day always available to keep an eye on things when Tom and Gail needed to go away for business. It was Delilah who convinced Wren to add skating to her repertoire of abilities, something to keep for herself.
Elementary and middle school passed without much incident. It was the advent of High School, however, that would seal the young goth's fate, and all but dash her dreams of ever becoming a Prima Ballerina. High School was much more competitive than in her previous years of schooling as kids and their parents fought tooth and nail to remain at the top of the academic short-list for scholarships and even job offers. Whenever Wren started to do well, even so well as to make the list, others would go out of their way to remove her entirely from the list. One such girl was Victoria Charbonneau, another aspiring Prima Ballerina, who on multiple occasions hid Wren's things to prevent her from meeting testing requirements. It was when the opportunity arose to be in a production of Swan Lake that Wren missed after being given the incorrect time and date for her audition that she finally had enough.
Wren had always been good with computers. Coding was essential for website design, a skill Wren developed in her elective courses in middle school and on her own when she discovered that it was like drawing; creating something from nothing. That evolved into a thirst for learning to fix computers, recover 'lost' files, and solving common issues. That knowledge was about to pay off.
Using the school's WiFi, Wren 'hacked' into the school's digital archives and changed young Ms. Charbonneau's acedemic grades to D and lower, sure that she would be kicked out of school for her poor grades.
