Name: Silly Caster
Hair, length && style: Black, medium lenght, straight
Eyes: Coal black
Skin: White, very pale
Body build: Wirey and thin
Scars: Long faded scar on lower, righthand backside. From third rib down to tailbone in a right-left slash.
Tattoos: Several tribal "tattoos" around upper legs and inner thighs. Self inflicted scarring(scarification) made to look like tattoos upon healing.
Extra Physical Details: Silly is double jointed and repulsively flexible. She also has a very high tolerance for pain.
Personality: Though her body has grown, her mind is years behind in development. But it had not always been so. Not before witnessing the horrific and brutal murder of her parents and siblings. Silly was a delightful girl. Popular and easy going, loving her place in the spotlight with her parents. The favorite of four other sisters. And at the tender age of twelve, her innocent eyes beheld a most gruesom act. Her father gutted, and his intestines strung about as her mother was ravaged again and again. Before she, too, was slaughtered. Silly and her sisters were then subjected to torture of the flesh before each were ran through with a sharp blade. When it came time for Silly to die, she somehow avoided the deadly blow, and took it instead as a deep gash across her back. After that the authorities came, but the men had gotten away. And she was spared. Though some might say it would have been better for her to die with the rest of her family. Silly fell into a spiraling decent of depression. Withdrawling herself from her present reality. The touch of any, man or woman, gained a terrified reaction from her. Cursing and screaming for them to wash the blood off her face. Inflicting wounds upon herself with anything she could find that broke the skin. Finding refuge and euphoria in the pain this created. Eventually she stopped talking, stopped eating. Often force fed or drugged for her own good. Only Silly knows who killed her family. And the only thought left in her mind, other than suicide, is the sweet sweet revenge she will have on those men. If only she could escape those around her that were trying to 'help' and 'protect' her.
Quirks: Silly carries with her a worn toy at all times. A small pink stuffed rabbit that she had been holding the night of her families slaughter. Blood, in itself, seems to draw from her a primal fear upon site of it. Even causing her to become quite violent to any who try to approach her. The rabbit is truely the only thing that calms her. Sometimes, but not always, a simple nursery rhyme can have the same effect. Cutting and scarrification is still a bad habbit of hers, her own calming tool she uses on herself if no other outlet is utilized. Silly also has an unhealthy and irrational fear of bright lights, even the sun itself. Screeching as if it burns her, even though it does not. Often hiding her skin, and her face, under baggy clothes and hooded coats.
History && Relations:
Family . Friends . Enemies: Silly has no family or friends left. Her parents and four sisters were murdered before her eyes. But from this, she did gain enemeies. The three men that spilled her families blood have it coming. And she intends on being the one to deliver it. She doesn't have names, but thier faces are forever etched into her minds eye.
I remember: Blood. It was warm when it hit my face. And as I watched my father fall to the feet of those men, and my mother reaching for me and my sisters, I could only think of the blood. There was so much of it. I can still feel it on my skin now. Even now as it is all over, and the 'good guys' are trying to get me to talk. It's too much. There's blood on thier hands, on my hands. And all I can do is scream. They don't like that. The things I scream at thier faces. And they take me away to a place where the walls are thick. And the other children around me seem strange. But that is why I'm here now, that is why they brought me here. Because I'm strange. The children talk to me, but all I see is the blood splattered on thier faces. Its hard to think I will never get that image out of my head. And then I realize...its not in my head. There is blood on thier face. And I step back from them trembling, with blood on my hands. Real blood. Not my fault, I thought it was one of them...one of those men. Its all I see anymore. Blood.
Course the staff doesn't look kindly on you when they find you standing over another child with blood spilled on the floor. And as the next few years past, I find myself even further detached from the world. By my own acts, and the concequences of such. Till they no longer take me out into the rec. room. I no longer get to walk when there are others walking. So the night became my time. And alone I would walk in the dark, alone I would play cards or do puzzles. And I was left with all the time in the world to plan my revenge. It would be sweet. And the blood, oh yes, there would be not a drop left for them to spare.
I want to: What more motivation does one need than the idea of murdering those that murdered her family? The idea of spilling the blood of those men. To hold the lives of those monsters in her own hands, and then take it away. Oh yes, what more motivation did one need...
You should probably know: Silly has been non-responsive to all past treatements and course of recovery taken. But given the chance, she enjoys writing down her sadistic and twisted thoughts. Babs, the rabbit always in her hands, is guarded jealously and violently if need be.
Sample of Role Play: At least two paragraphs...
"Well, Sam, I can't keep her here any longer. I have three new patients coming in this week and I need the room. She's not a child anymore. This...is a hospital for children." Madison shook her head and handed the file over to a tall man dressed in a business suit. From behind the desk, lost in the clutter of backed up paperwork and years of stress, the caseworker was a bit short with words. Giving the man not a second glance, Madison set about answering the phone.
Of course, Mr. Sam Green simply stood there with a lost stare. File in hand. Watching the woman chatter away on the phone. What was he suppose to do with this girl? His own facility was not equipped to handle one such as herself. One with such...unique and troublsome issues. And as he opened his mouth to protest this, Madison cut him short.
"Why don't you take that file there..." Nodding to said paperwork in Mr. Green's hand. "And go talk to those guys down at Wesswick? I hear they have some...vaccancies as of late." Though the shiver that visibly drew over the caseworkers spine caused her to pause, she knew they were out of options. Wesswick was the only solution left. She didn't know exactly what went on within the walls of that asylum, but she knew whatever it was, she didn't like it. And despite hating the fact, it was Silly's last chance.
In three days time they had worked out a transfer. Silly was to be taken to the Wesswick Insane Asylum later that afternoon. And as the team stood outside the metal door, they discussed the fastest possible way to get this done. With nods all around, the door was unlocked and opened. "Silly? Are you awake?" Mr Green's voice echoed in the small room. The bed was neatly made, the shades drawn over barred windows, and a small pink bunny sat caringly on the pillow. "Silly, are you here?" Where else would she be? There was no where to hide, really, in the 8X8 room. Then a rustle of the dust ruffle gave glimpse to a bare foot under the bed. The men advanced around the bed and Green knelt down slowly. "Silly, remember me? We met a couple of days ago. I'm going to take you to a great new place. You can make new friends and do lots of fun things." When he got no response, he reached out and tapped that foot. "Silly?"
Immidiately that foot was withdrawn, and a second later she was crawling out from under the bed with a horrific look of terror on her face. Staring at Green as if he had beaten her with that one touch. She backed away, past the other men till her back was against the far wall.
Green stood up again slowly. "Come on now, Silly. We're just here to help. Look..." He turned and scooped up the small pink bunny. "Even Babs is coming..."
Before he had gotten the last words out, Silly was moving forward. Her eyes locked on Babs. Her precious Babs in that horrible man's hands. Rage replaced terror, and her teeth were clenched, visible thru the sneer she wore. Green was backed up to the bed, and stumbled a bit trying not to fall over it. "Silly, stop there. Stop right there, SILLY!"
It took all three of the other men to pull her away from Sam Green. Her hand and feet clawing and kicking. Offering no other sounds other than a strange growl. In one hand she clutched her bunny, the other hand was colored in wet red. Green groped at his torn face with shaking hands of his own as he stood from the bed again and walked quickly for the door. Blood running down his chin and neck from the lacerations that now riddled his face from Silly's fingernails. And as one of the other men drew out a vile and fixated it to a needle, Silly sighed. Feeling the bite of the needle in her leg before all went black.