Post by Hailey Pershing on Sept 16, 2013 3:05:04 GMT -7
Hailey Pershing
Hailey Olivia Pershing Twenty-One Noble Hail Despair Dorumon, Guilmon, BlackGuilmon FACE CLAIM: Gumi Megpoid ANIMANGA: Vocaloid GENDER: Female HEIGHT: Four feet, nine inches. WEIGHT: One-hundred-eighteen pounds. APPEARANCE Once, years ago, Hailey liked to wear dresses and short-sleeve shirts galore, the girl showing off her arms freely. Now, however, with the bandages and the scars that stretch from her wrist to her shoulder, she doesn't want to show the evidence of how she has failed and continues to fail, so she prefers long sleeves that come down all the way to her hands, sometimes ones that go all the way up to her thumb. She has light green hair that many would say is cropped rather messily, particularly with her bangs a good inch or two longer than the rest of her hair, and bright emerald eyes. She is rarely seen without a pair of aviator goggles buried in her hair or dangling around her neck, a relic of her mother's before the woman walked out on a much younger Hailey. She's also fond of her orange aviator's jacket, almost as if she's hoping that the clothing of those who fly will help her with her own fear of heights. She's a fan of combat boots or riding boots for her feet, even if the latter happens to be the commercial interpretation of them. She will often paint her nails some shade of green, though the polish often chips and cracks within a few days as she picks at it, and she has to remove the old polish and repaint her nails at least once a week to keep them from looking horrible. She has a few white lines on her legs and torso, all scars from self-inflicted injuries, though the majority of them litter her arms, covered by the bandages that sop up the blood of more recent wounds. The largest of her scars is actually a jagged one down her left side from her armpit to her hip, caused by a collision with a wire fence out on her family's ranch when she was five. "My name is Hailey. Hailey Olivia Pershing. I am twenty-one years old, and this... this is my story. It's probably not going to make a whole lot of sense in the end, this is only a blog that I'm writing... I don't even know why. I think it's because deep down, I still want to leave something behind so that someone someday will see it and know that I at least tried. That's all anyone could ask for, trying, right? And if I fail, like I'm so good at... well, the record should make it easier for everyone to make sense of what happened. "I was born on a small ranch out in the southern United States. Growing up, we had a lot of animals around... I think I've never had a time in my life where I was without a dog. And if that ever happened, I don't really remember it. My dad taught me to ride when I was three, even if it was just the old plow-horse Sally, and it wasn't an odd sight to see me running around with dirt smudged on my face and our sheepdog Oreo only a step behind me. In fact, that was how I got this giant scar running down my left side, from now looking where I was going when I was playing a game. I ran right into a wire fence, and pulling the barbed wire back out again was painful enough that I passed out. My parents still swear to this day that a guardian angel had to have been looking after me for me to have gotten out of that with only twenty-six sutures, but I disagree. If anything, I was damned by a demon. Maybe if I'd died back then, before things went wrong, everything would have turned out differently. Maybe I wouldn't have screwed up my parents' marriage. Maybe my mom wouldn't have taken my two younger siblings and left me behind. Maybe she would've stayed with Dad instead of just walking out. "But I'm getting ahead of myself. There's still the prelude to all that. You see, my mom was a pilot for the Air Force years ago, before she had us, and although she paused to give birth to me, she went right back to serving her country as soon as she was able to. After the twins were born when I was five, however, she realized that she couldn't stay in the Air Force, and she quit so that she could take better care of us while Dad tended to the cattle and the horses. Within another two years, little Ulysses was born. Personally, I still don't know why my parents named him Ulysses, but it wasn't my decision to make, and to be honest, it doesn't matter so much how he got his name so much as the fact that he did. And because he did, my parents ended up falling in love with him. The problem with that, however, was that Ulysses was born with the Grim Reaper looking over his shoulder, waiting for the right moment to strike." - - - - - - - Positive - Quiet;; When in public, Hailey prefers to stay at the fringes of a room, not wanting to place herself in the spotlight, and although some might find it a little concerning that she doesn't want attention, this quality also makes her a great listener and allows her to be able to follow things a little more closely than others might.- - - - - - - "Ulysses was born with a hole in his heart. I don't remember how big it was, though I know that Dad must've told us, showed us how big. I remember him telling us that it wasn't all that big and he would be just fine. Looking back on it, I know that he was just down-playing it, trying to convince himself that everything was all right so that the twins and I wouldn't react. But at the time, I believed my dad. Why wouldn't I? I was seven. The idea that he would lie to me was something entirely incomprehensible to me. And there was the fact that, to me, Ulysses was just this little baby in a box - in a way, not really alive or a part of my life. I know it's horrible to say... but I had no real connection to my youngest sibling. He was brought home when he was nine months old after staying in the hospital to make sure that he was going to be okay. The ranch didn't have as many cows that year, but I didn't think anything of it. I didn't see that the medical bills were driving the ranch into the ground until I was older and the whole thing was over and done with. "For the three months that Ulysses was home, the house was quiet. Everyone tiptoed around the baby, and my mom rarely let him leave her arms. I often saw her crying, but to this day I don't know if I actually saw it or if I'm just imagining the memories with the help of hindsight. What does it matter though? Either way, it doesn't change the fact that three months after he was born, a few days after his first birthday, his heart stopped in the early hours of the morning and he died. My mother found him and awoke us all with a scream, and I'll never forget the look of terror and pain on her face for as long as I live, but it doesn't change anything. There was nothing the paramedics could have done, and my parents grieved. My mom took the death harder than Dad had, and for a long time, she was severely depressed. She didn't want to do anything with us, and when she did, it was never with me. She would only take the twins to do things, and I'd stay home and take care of the ranch with Dad. I didn't mind very much, at first, Dad was always sure to make sure that I had enough fun to make me think I wasn't missing out, but well... that was all about to change. "A month or so before I turned ten, I came home from school to find my mom packing up the car. The twins were buckled in their seats, and the old minivan was packed to the brim with stuff. I remember how excitedly I'd asked her if we were all going on a vacation in the middle of the school year, and she just gave me this look of sadness and grief. It was the same one she'd had on her face when she held Ulysses' body in her arms after he'd passed away. She told me that no, they weren't going on a vacation. She was leaving Dad and taking the twins with her. I started to ask her when she was coming to take me too when Dad came in from the fields and picked me up and took me inside. We had pizza and stayed up late that night and I didn't have to go to school all that week, but by the time my birthday rolled around and I was blowing out the candles, I knew. Dad had agreed to whatever my mom had asked for since they didn't have the money for lawyers, and they'd gotten a divorce. She was given the twins and had moved far away. I got to stay with Dad. To this day I still don't know exactly why she picked the twins over me, but all I remember thinking was that it was all my fault because maybe if I'd played with Ulysses more or been nicer or not lost that mother's day card I'd made for her, I would have gotten to go with her. "That year was the first year I wished that I had never been born." - - - - - - - Negative - Insecure;; After her mother walked out on her and her father, Hailey developed an eternal fear of abandonment that nothing could quite seem to quell, and even if she hides exactly how needy she is, she still can take hits to her self-esteem rather easily, which leads her to cut herself to try to make herself feel better from the flow of chemicals in her brain.- - - - - - - "Dad got remarried when I was twelve, but the thing is... y'know, she wasn't my mom. Maybe that was why I first started taking those walks with Oreo. I'd be out of the house, I'd be able to run, scream, do whatever I wanted, and I wouldn't have to put up with her judging me. I knew she wanted to have kids with Dad and that she wasn't particularly fond of me - she had openly told me I was difficult - but I didn't really get along all too well with anyone, and since she'd made Dad happy, I'd given them my blessing. I was thirteen, and even if Dad told me to be careful, usually I wasn't. So what if it was dangerous? I decided to let what would happen happen, and if push came to shove, Oreo could always run for help. I was playing around at some old abandoned building when something in the structural supports gave, and a huge chunk of the ceiling started to come down. I thought that was it. The end. I was going to be like Ulysses, and maybe then I could get my wish of not having been born. I closed my eyes and waited for the angel choir. "Instead, I heard a loud grunt, and when I opened my eyes, there was a strange creature standing over me. It was huge, easily large enough to hold up the room, and there was a young boy who met my eye and he yelled at me to run. He managed to break the spell and I got to my feet and scampered out of there, running back to my parents. They never found out about the incident, but I never forgot. I wish I could have seen him again, just so that I could've thanked him. Maybe he knows. I hope he does. I'm not even sure if I'm going to be around to say it to him. You see... it took me four years to be able to work up the courage, four long years of plodding through school hearing about how people had parents who loved them, siblings who didn't kick you in the shin and say you looked weird like the other two brats would, and even saying that people who were suicidal - people like me - were cowards for wanting the easy way out. But I slit all along my wrists and arms and climbed in to take a bath so that I would drown when I lost enough blood to fall unconscious. It was a foolproof plan, I thought. Nothing could go wrong. It would be quick and easy and then I'd be gone. I wouldn't be a problem for anyone anymore. "Unfortunately, I hadn't foreseen Dad being home that night to find me. He stopped the bleeding before I slipped into the water and I woke up in the hospital three days later. He was terrified and cried in relief when he hugged me. My stepmother merely went through the motions of being glad I was alive, but I saw the disgust in her eyes. She thought I was lower than dirt for trying to end everything in the house her children slept in. Two years passed with a few incidents - some overdoses on pills, a couple more times with the bathtub, one trial with an old belt of my mom's, all caught foiled - and then I decided I didn't want to stay anymore. I could either take the pills they tried to force on me when I was younger when I would just throw them back up again or I could move somewhere new. It was a no-brainer. I made all the arrangements, packed up my things, and relocated to an apartment in Boston near some old friends of Dad's so that he could be sure I was safe. He gave me a knife at the airport, making me promise to stow it away in a checked bag and to use it if things got dicey up there. It's seen some blood since then, but only mine. "It's only been within the past month or so that I relocated from there. I couldn't stand having everyone hovering over me, waiting for me to kick it. I felt like a bug under a microscope, and I just had to get away. I was going to jump off the first bridge I found after putting my stuff in the hotel and leaving a good-bye letter, but well... I found my partner. A Digimon. And what he told me was... something I couldn't wrap my head around. At least, not right away. A whole Digital World? I couldn't believe it, and I didn't until everything went wrong. Digimon began appearing and things had changed. Had some Tamer lost control of their Digimon? Were the Digimon just leaking out? Or was it some other terrible option that no one's thought of? "Neither of us know for sure, but one thing's for certain: I can't leave this earth, not yet. Not until the world's been made safe again. If not for me, then for my family." MEMBER NAME: Kuroya AGE: Seventeen OTHER CHARACTERS: None. Yet. ROLEPLAY SAMPLE 'And if I were to drift away, They all would find that quite okay, But if I passed while in my sleep, No one shall find my soul to keep.' The slight snap of Hailey's pencil breaking was what ended the poem and ended the silence that the girl was sitting in, making her sigh as she turned the pencil over and began to erase the large mark that she'd left over the page from where the pencil had slipped while it was breaking. She brushed off the stray marks before rubbing the side of her hand against her pants to rid it of the graphite that had accumulated there, turning her gaze over the finished poem. It was a deal longer than the last four stanzas that she had spent so much time on, but it was perhaps the hardest part of the poem for her to be able to finish, the rest of it having come easily for her while she was out in a quiet corner of the shrine. People came out here to make wishes, but the general atmosphere was extremely peaceful, so she thought nothing of sitting there in a quiet spot off to the side and using the time to relax and finish some poetry she had started and then found impossible to finish with so many distractions. Now that she wasn't so caught up in her own little world of rhymes and meter, she could see that a few hours had passed judging by the way the muscles in her legs were cramping in protest to her position on top of them. Shifting a little from overtop her feet and wincing when the sudden rush of blood caused her to experience the feeling of pins and needles jabbing into her skin, she stretched her shoulders, arching her back and folding her hands together behind her head before she settled back down again, this time with her knees pulled up to her chest and her combat boots resting on the floor in front of her. Looking at the sunset that was just beginning to come into play as the great golden orb first began to touch upon the ground, she wondered absently how much time she'd have until it got too dark and she'd have to find her way home to the tiny place she rented further in the city. She had always dreamed of being a Tamer, which was why some thought it odd she allied herself with the DigiDestined. But what Pandora was doing to the Digimon was wrong, and she would fight with all of what she had if it made them stop, even if she had to die to bring attention to the cause. A sigh escaped her chest and she hugged her legs closer to her body, not making any moves to try to get up from her spot under a gnarled tree of some kind. She didn't know why she was here anymore. No one really wanted her, and no one would miss her if she was gone. Since she'd moved to Japan, away from her family, it would be so easy to end things. There was no one and nothing to stop her. So why was she still here? She didn't really even know anymore, and for her, that lack of knowledge was a dangerous thing. It meant that she was standing on the edge and that it wouldn't take too much to send her toppling over one way or another. |
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