Personal Message

ooc corner;

timezone; gmt -7 hours or -8 hours. travelin' 'tween vancouver and calgary.

writing style; strict para. give me a oneliner, i'll behead you.

call me; lisa. or autumn. or derpface. or anything, really.

hello there, strange stranger ^^ if you decide to talk to me, i'll automatically know you're awesome, since you decided to ignore the fact that i just called you strange - or better yet, you may be like me and think that it's a blessing to be considered strange. i'm a bit of an odd personality and can have a lot of weird extremes. generally, i'm a little shy and it takes me a while to really get to know someone - i'll be fairly nice for the most part, though. i don't bite, i chomp. seriously, there's a difference, people. get with the program. #hairflip.

when roleplaying, i prefer that others reciprocate the length of post (or similar) as the posts i make, and i will do the same. grammar nazi-ness is one of the only things i get really intense about, so please forgive me if i harp on you; i really try not to.

i make my own layouts, if you're wondering. and no requests, please. i has no time. (i does wushu, taekwondo, piano and dance tuu. e3o)

otherwise, please talk to me. i'm a lonely child who needs loving.

ohbytheway hai jinri. i know you're there. :)

kthxbai.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 


 

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it's not because she enjoys solitude. it's because
she's tried to blend into the world before...
and people continue to disappoint her.

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you'd think that a girl who killed her own father would be at least a little regretful of her actions. maybe
she'd be scarred for life, afraid to touch a match again. perhaps she would have horrible, traumatizing
flashbacks when she's near an open flame. if it got to be as bad as some people said it should be... maybe
she'd be dead. maybe she'd take her own life. maybe she should take her own life.

and of course, i'm not saying i don't hate myself for killing him. i'm not saying i don't still have nightmares
about that cold night, a decade later. and maybe if i hadn't held on as tightly as i did, i might have gone
over the edge for real.

but dad would have never forgiven me if i had lived my life in the past, stuck in the memory of that fire.

i don't think they agreed with me.

being looked at like i was a kicked puppy, given the pity-eye with a side serving of empty sympathetic
words were bad. but the look on people's faces as they realized i had gotten over his death was of disgust.
the words said to my face were vinegar. the words said behind my back were poison. what's wrong with her?
why isn't she upset? shouldn't she be a mess of tears and running makeup?

they've never thought about it logically, have they? romanticists, all of them. living my life as a shade of
what i was before... it's something i can't - and won't - accept. peaking at the age of eight really isn't in my
plans. of course though, they don't care about that. i'm a freak, for all they know. a cold, heartless freak.

and you know what? i've stopped caring.

as long as they look on me like an outsider... be it in benevolence or malevolance... i will be an outsider.
i will continue to best my companions.  i will continue to prove them wrong. i will be the best of the best.
and still, i will not be one of them.

that's fine with me.
 

Description
 
      

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kwon sohyun ┊ 4minute minerva ┊ 08.30.94 162cm ┊ 45kg type b

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       born to the eccentric kwon sohyuk and
       the roman goddess minerva, sohyun
       was a child who showed talent at a very
       young age, killing her first monster with
       homemade dynamite at the age of six.
      
       living alone with her father in a modest
       home in the suburbs of incheon, sohyun
       became aware of her differences earlier
       than most demigods, taking martial arts
       lessons and being homeschooled in non-
       academic (read: half-blood) subjects
       under the encouragement of sohyuk.
      
       however, her love for pyrotechnics and
       weaponry, fueled by her father's career
       as a biowarfare engineer, was taken a
       step too far when she found herself
       standing in the ashes of the fire that
       ended his life.
      
       she was the one who lit the match that
       started it.
      
       on that very day, kwon sohyun's fairy
       tale childhood ended. within the same
       year, she fights her way to camp half-
       blood, earning herself her first scars, a
       a set of crossed slashes on the skin of
       her back. 
       
       ten years later, she is eighteen years
       old. though indisputably one of the
       veterans at camp, sohyun still never
       carved herself a niche in the social
       ladder of camp half-blood.
      
       passed up for commanding positions
       despite the fact that she could destroy a
       hydra with nothing but a cork, an elastic
       band, and a butter knife, and ostracized
       by the ever-hostile greeks and her fellow
       romans... she got used to a lonely life.
      
       after all, it was to be expected... who
       wouldn't hate the girl who killed her own
       father?

    single. straight.