TESS THE TERRIBLE!

[` Ixchel!]

Name:

Tess Rocheen Marie

Age:

14

Gender: Female
Position: Student
Gift:

Illusionist

Personality:

When you look at me, you see exactly what you get. Im not your average girl, by any means. From age one, I was wild and unruly, in my parents' opinions, out of hand and completely unlady-like. When you read my history, you'll understand completely. Without much to it, I am untidy, and like to leave things behind and not put them away or anything. Im messy, and deffinatly clumsy. I can't go a day without tripping over something, whether it be a chair or a speck of dust.
Besides the yadda yadda of my poor balance skills and tom-boyish nature, Im a free spirit. I like to take everything with ease, and usually I do. Im not one to get mad because something doesn't go my way, infact, I usually bottle it up. But, the downside is I am very sensitive. I cry at confrontation, and have been teased about being a big baby. Its not my fault I cant handle people screaming or yelling!

Usually, I get lost. Not lost in the halls or in the world, but lost in my head. Theres never a moment were I'm not thinking or debating something quietly in my head. Often, I dont come back to the real world for hours until someone screams at me. Thus ending with tears. Usually, these "day dreams" as people call them are best triggered by a simple thing like a wall. I could stare at the patterns forever, seeing different things. This is one reason they had dubbed me insane. It was first considered ADD by my old pediatrician. Then, it was worse, because I was seeing more then just dots and patterns, I was seeing things like true scenes. Not like future scenes or anything, just little dreams or illusions that I wanted to see. Like, if I wanted to go to the icecream parlor down the street and mom said no, I would stare at the fridge and suddenly I saw Mr. Z standing there holding a vanilla cone. This did come to good use though when I was bored. But the trouble happened when I was near eight years old. You'll hear about that later.

So anyways, now that you know about my main characteristics, how about how I act and feel? Well, more indepth atleast. Im sort of a hippy, but I shave and brush my teeth more then they do. I like to wear headstraps over my hair, and bright flashy colors and peace signs. Kinda my logo, y'know? When you hear a flavory, juicy Peace song like Bob Dylan you automatically think of Tess.
A few things I love are riding horses, which I got to do back at home, but not here. We had alot of pets, and if I could have a pet here, I would. I just have this strong connection with animals, mostly horses and dogs though. I just have to be in a room with them, and its like everything else disapears beside the animal and I. Then I go and talk to them, and have weird conversations with them, and suddenly their talking back! This was another reason I was dubbed insane. Stupid doctors.

Appearance:

"Jeez, Tess! At first glance, you would think you fell of the hippy tom-boy runt train!"
Thats what my mom always told me. Over and over after many lectures about why I wasnt a debutant or a perfect daughter, ballerina, anything besides what I was. She would have gone for a girl who wanted to do plumbing, but I wasnt what she wanted.

I am a grubby little girl. Its not that I dont shower or anything, its just what I look like. I have to many freckles, and my skin is way to pail for any normal child. My eyes are like blotchy green apples, with black dots in the center that really dont compliment my features at all because their so distinct. Thats why I always wear glasses. My hair is shoulder-level, just enough so I can put it up at will, but I never do. Its dark auburn, with a few blonde and bright red streaks. All of which are natural.

When it comes to my every-day attire, Im always found in strikingly bright colors like greens, blues, reds and yellows. I dont much care for blacks or browns, their just way to dark and drabby for me. Another reason I didnt follow my sister and mother in being a debutant was because I didnt like the sequins or leather, the feathers or fur coats. It was all just to pricy for me, and I knew I would disappoint my family by getting dirt on them somehow. Large T-shirts and bell-bottom jeans were my favorite choice, and by looking in my dresser, you can see clearly my collection.

As I said before, Im always found with hair bands (the sports ones) over my hair, of course, a completion to the hippy look. Im always hidden behind some sort of large, funky glasses, (bright neons only) and often wear a small scarf through my belt-loops. Wardrobe cost? Very cheep.

History:

I was born into a very prestigious family. When I say "prestigious", it is exactly how it sounded. But like any family, we were messed up and totally disfunctional. My grandmother had been a Duchess of some country with a really long name, and had bestowed my mother with the knowledge that the man of the household was ultimatly incharge, and that the woman was never to work or be apart of a real society. In short terms, my family is very old-fashioned. Well, besides the whole work thing, my mom did get by with balls and other events that involved very itchy and annoying gowns, and alot of the time, tiaras. This was not something I was interested in. My father came from another old time family. My grandparents from his side had been some sort of king and queen of, once again, a royal very small, very long named country in England I think. Anyways, they tried to raise my brother and I up as a remake of them. Needless to say, I was more difficult. From age three I was being trained to be a debutant and a great house wife, and to my mother's disliking, I refused with more tears and tantrums then she could handle. It wasnt until age five when I was really awkward, and knew something about what I could do. What I mean is, I sort of understood that I could make things appear. I was so young, I thought they were just my invisible friends and stuff, and to this day I still believe that. If I ever wanted a tiger, I suddenly had a tiger. The bad part was that, one day, I found out I could make others see Mr. Stripes as well. And thats where the horror and mistreatments began. Like any parents, mine didn't understand, and I have found, what they don't understand, they hurt. Just like the little flies in our sun room. I understood they were there for their reasons, and I knew those reasons because they told me. Well, I imagined they told me. So I held conversations with them. My parents didn't accept this, so they killed them. Even though my parents didn't accept me, they didn't kill me. They did, however, try to put me up for adoption the very moment I made dead people come at them. It was unsuccesful, and ended with my parents being deemed insane themselves and having to take parental courses and a few therapy classes. This though, passed in time and we were considered "functioning" once again by the public. Sort of.

Later on, around the age of eight or nine, I found out my fifteen year old brother was alittle to obsessed with me. This effected my way of thinking about other boys and men. Now, I cant stand to be in the same room with any boy or man that has a certain part that could hurt me in any way. I just cant do it, out of pure fear their going to do what he did. So, I grew into my isolation, much more prefering to hide in my room until what I would call the house being "safe". My parents always threw screaming fits at eachother, all because their daughter was a misfit hippy girl who didn't want to attend evening crap, and they just couldn't figure out why my brother was always so worried about me. Then, the fateful letter came from the government that moved me here at the age of thirteen. One year later, here I am. I have never been a "bad" patient, and infact, most of my teachers love me. As long as I dont have to attend balls or formal stuff, Im fine with loving this place. Never have I -and never will I- been punished.

RP Example:

If you got it all figured out,
Then what is there to shout about?
This midwest town is gonna miss you
Just go ahead and work it out,
But first c'mon and let it out
Scream it,
Shout it,
Tell everybody that you're gonna leave

No matter what you believe, or what your told as a child, you always learn that memories never fade. I remember my parents always telling me that at some point, I would forget all the fights or fun times I had with the other raccoons in our exhibit. It was something I had believed in before, but after the accident, I knew certain memories just didnt leave. Not without a fight, atleast.

The day was heading in the afternoon direction, leaving me breathless as I stared at the sun. The sun I didnt see from behind glass or a chain fence. It was odd, I admit. The sun was real, also not painted on the cement wall of my indoor encloser when the weather was "frightful", as the humans had put it. I didnt need the assistance of a loud fan to feel the breeze in my ivory and scarlet-brown fur, nor did I have to hear the silly giggles of humans, muffled by inch-thick glass. I didn't have to sit up for my food, do little tricks for "yummies" or "cookies", two other terms the people had used. This, this was the wild. And I was sure I would never get used to it.

It was funny really, I knew that I understood more of the people then other animals did. It acctually was a little odd sometimes. I had heard several times of other animals refer to them as "Flat-Faces", "Two-Legs", "No-Tails", "Tree-Standers", "No-Furs" and many other names. I, I had listened in captivity to the proper terms. I had heard their names for objects, like pop-corn or soda. I knew the taste of marshmallows, and heard the sound of a bull-horn. I had more experience, and more knowledge of the humans then others. I had enough understanding to know what to do when I encounter a hunter, or one of those long metal machines that send fire, "guns." This gives me the upperhand.

Staring out at the woods below, I couldn't help but retrace that fateful night. Lost in the darkness, knocked out, then reawaken suddenly, the sun burning me, the sky burning with the wretched stench of blood and burning flesh. The ombience was scary, the atmosphere humid, and every sense and feeling enhanced, amplified till I could scream. Which, I did, many times. I could walk though, despite the pain, despite the fear and want that had settled around me, so close and so tense it was crushing me until I felt my ribs would collapse.

Below the tree something rustled, scuttling around until I could feel the tree vibrate with movements. I stood on my branch, which was a few good feet from the other where it stopped and lunged here and there. I hissed, afraid of this confrontation. I hadn't seen another since the wreck. Alright, another live creature. Raccoon, for more detail; and oh, a male. I hid the hiss, but my fur was on end, fear pulsing through me and causing my small body to tremble. What if he wished to hurt me? Kill me even? What did I have to lose though? Just my life. All my loved ones were dead, and I surely wasnt prepared for the wild. This wild was just way past me. I was used to feeding from the hand of a human, being pet and snuggled so often with the keepers, and being whispered too, a soft voice to talk me to sleep. This was not my habitat, this was someone else's habitat, and I surely wouldnt survive much longer.

My voice automatically spoke out against my will. Excuse me my lyrics were quiet, filling the empty space between us. Embarresment flushed through me, and immediatly my body turned on the branch above him, grabbing the tree and then slowly inching down. This tree was nothing compared to the ones in captivity. It was bigger, and it didn't carry an odd chemical smell, it also didnt have large plastic tubes wrapped around the bottom of it. The humans thought the plastic would keep us off the trees, but we climbed up them anyways, scratching holes in the slippery stuff. Another thing was obviouse, these trees were gigantic compared to the ones back at the zoo, which smelled odd, like chemicals. I remember when a tree in our enclosure had started to really branch out, mind the pun, and enveloped the fence seperating our side and the panda exhibit. A week had passed before the humans came in with large machines, I later learned the word was "saws" and "tree trimmers", and cut the tree down.

So, I slid down the extra two feet I had left before landing with a successful Thud on the ground. This ground also didn't smell like weird chemicals and mulch. I was always learning about the difference between my world and the real world. So weird, really.

I sighed. Why did I leave the tree? I had heard about raccoons sharing trees, but I didn't want to bother having some dispute with the male about a tree he rightfully had in the first place. Maybe he had claimed it? There was an odd smell on the base, which I did think was urine. His. Tree. Not. Mine. Simple, right? This, I understood, and would leave alone. Good day Mr. Raccoon.

Image URL:

TESSY!

Relationships:

none

Other:

[hey! i hope an rp example from a different site is ok. it is my character and post, so i promise i didnt steal it! =3 i gotta admit, i had more muse for Tess then i thought.]

[Avalynn]

Fantastical! Oh yes, the rp example is fine. Me and Kanari did the same thing on our bios... not enough muse to create one on the spot. Kanari is evil though and changed it to make it look like she didn't.

Totally accepted!