CIVILIAN, frieda marlene
posted Sept 16, 2018 16:43:49 GMT -6
[nospaces]
[attr="class","CIVILIAN"]
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[attr="class","omapponetop2"]revolution calling
[attr="class","omapponetop1"]FILES LOCATED UNDER
FRIEDA MARLENE
FRIEDA MARLENE
[attr="class","omapponetopp"]
FRIEDA MARLENE
LOOKS LIKE KISHINAMI HAKUNO FROM FATE/
[attr="class","omapponetopp1"]
FILE NAVIGATION
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[attr="class","omapponebasics"]
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ABOUT FRIEDA
ABOUT FRIEDA
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot1"]
FRIE
[attr="class","lnr lnr-star"]
FRIE
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot"]
19 YEARS OLD
[attr="class","lnr lnr-gift"]
19 YEARS OLD
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot1"]
CIS FEMALE
[attr="class","lnr lnr-shirt"]
CIS FEMALE
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot"]
SHE / HER
[attr="class","lnr lnr-bubble"]
SHE / HER
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot1"]
BISEXUAL
[attr="class","lnr lnr-heart-pulse"]
BISEXUAL
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot"]
BIROMANTIC
[attr="class","lnr lnr-heart"]
BIROMANTIC
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot1"]
CRUSHING
[attr="class","lnr lnr-users"]
CRUSHING
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot"]
DECEMBER 21
[attr="class","lnr lnr-calendar-full"]
DECEMBER 21
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot1"]
SAGITTARIUS
[attr="class","lnr lnr-moon"]
SAGITTARIUS
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot"]
FRESHMAN + COFFEE BARISTA
[attr="class","lnr lnr-briefcase"]
FRESHMAN + COFFEE BARISTA
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[attr="class","omapponetabs1"]SUBJECT TEMPERAMENT
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RECENT STATUS
[attr="class","omapponestatus2"]
life goes on without me, 'cause i ain't got nobody. won't someone come and take a chance with me?
life goes on without me, 'cause i ain't got nobody. won't someone come and take a chance with me?
[attr="class","omapponepersonality1"]SUBJECT TEMPERAMENT
[attr="class","omapponelikes"]
[attr="class","omapponelikes1"]
[attr="class","omapponelikes2"]POSITIVES
vivacious
passionate
selfless
persistent
optimistic
honest
reliable
[attr="class","omapponelikes"]
[attr="class","omapponelikes1"]
[attr="class","omapponelikes2"]NEGATIVES
cowardly
oblivious
impulsive
rebellious
stubborn
lazy
immature
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[attr="class","omapponetabs2"]MISCELLANEOUS
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MISCELLANEOUS INFO
[attr="class","omapponemisc4"]
● Marlene is her father's last name. Frieda's elder sister, Lorelei, goes by their late mother's last name, Ackermann.[break][break]
● Works as a front counter employee at the coffee shop that works as the Operation's front. She's completely oblivious – as she is with most things – that the establishment she works for is the face of something far more sinister, believing it to be a totally normal part-time job.[break][break]
● In truth, her elder sister works as a member of the revolution proper, both as a means to pay for Frieda's tuition and to pay back debts incurred by her father to the good Doctor X. Lorelei refuses to allow Frieda to join, much less know of the revolution's existence if at all possible, but there's no safer place from the revolution and its fall out than home turf.[break][break]
● Frieda's major is in accounting, seeing as she'd been told it was a safe catch-all major upon entry when she had no idea what she really wanted to do with her schooling. Now, she's more interested in working as a chemical engineer, hoping to be able to work with pyrotechnics later in life.[break][break]
● Cursed with a one-sided affection for animals, although dogs above all others. Walking through pet stores usually ends badly for her. She's been feeding a stray she can't take back with her to the dorms for weeks since she found the poor thing, but she comes home with fresh bite marks every time she stops to pay a visit.[break][break]
● Used to believe everything on television was the news or live broadcasts when she was a child, particularly her favorite program to watch back in the day, the X-Files. While she was distraught to learn that most things on the air are fiction, she still very much “wants to believe”, and has given into conspiracy theories and tales of various cryptids... despite the eternal groaning of her older sister.[break][break]
● Has a bag with a seemingly infinite about of snacks in it she carries everywhere. She's almost constantly nibbling on something, but she's more than willing to share if you ask. … Or even if you don't.
● Marlene is her father's last name. Frieda's elder sister, Lorelei, goes by their late mother's last name, Ackermann.[break][break]
● Works as a front counter employee at the coffee shop that works as the Operation's front. She's completely oblivious – as she is with most things – that the establishment she works for is the face of something far more sinister, believing it to be a totally normal part-time job.[break][break]
● In truth, her elder sister works as a member of the revolution proper, both as a means to pay for Frieda's tuition and to pay back debts incurred by her father to the good Doctor X. Lorelei refuses to allow Frieda to join, much less know of the revolution's existence if at all possible, but there's no safer place from the revolution and its fall out than home turf.[break][break]
● Frieda's major is in accounting, seeing as she'd been told it was a safe catch-all major upon entry when she had no idea what she really wanted to do with her schooling. Now, she's more interested in working as a chemical engineer, hoping to be able to work with pyrotechnics later in life.[break][break]
● Cursed with a one-sided affection for animals, although dogs above all others. Walking through pet stores usually ends badly for her. She's been feeding a stray she can't take back with her to the dorms for weeks since she found the poor thing, but she comes home with fresh bite marks every time she stops to pay a visit.[break][break]
● Used to believe everything on television was the news or live broadcasts when she was a child, particularly her favorite program to watch back in the day, the X-Files. While she was distraught to learn that most things on the air are fiction, she still very much “wants to believe”, and has given into conspiracy theories and tales of various cryptids... despite the eternal groaning of her older sister.[break][break]
● Has a bag with a seemingly infinite about of snacks in it she carries everywhere. She's almost constantly nibbling on something, but she's more than willing to share if you ask. … Or even if you don't.
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[attr="class","omapponemisc11"]
[attr="class","omapponemisc11"]
[attr="class","omapponemisc12"]
[attr="class","omapponemisc11"]
[attr="class","omapponemisc13"]
[attr="class","omapponemisc2"]
[attr="class","omapponemisc21"]
+pocky
+prog rock
+zombies
+cheesy comics
+dogs
[attr="class","omapponemisc2"]
[attr="class","omapponemisc21"]
-the cold
-pop
-vegetables
-presentations
-cleaning
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[attr="class","omapponetabs3"]SUBJECT BIOGRAPHY
][attr="class","omapponebio"]
[attr="class","omapponebio1"]
You're born into this world a comet: birthed by the cosmos, baptized in destruction, a star fallen across the black canvas of the sky and an infant home tucked neatly into the hills of Colorado. It is the inevitable give and take of things, your own personal spin on the karmic balance that defines the universe and its tragedy of a play. Your parent marries the one they love, and for it, they lose the support of the parents who came before you. Your sister is welcomed, as bloody and fierce as the day she will go down in fire, and for it, your father gives up hope of his dream. And you, oh comet, offspring of stardust and starlight – [break][break]
You are born, and for it, your mother wilts.[break][break]
A crime with a victim but no culprit, and one, of course, you can't be blamed for you. In the eyes of fate, however, your life was equal to that of the woman who birthed you. Your price for life was her own. Your existence was built on the foundation of death – indebted to it, perhaps, penance you would pay for at the time of your own departure from this world.[break][break]
Lorelei never begrudges you for this, placing the weight of her blame, instead, on a ghost. ("Why did you leave, why did you go?")[break][break]
Your infancy passes like a dream, but still, your father looks at you and weeps. ("A murderer gone unpunished.")[break][break]
to the top of all the world,[break]
A childhood, framed in Polaroids, dreamt of in flashes:[break][break]
The green of the grass in your hands and the rush of the wind through your hair, mountain air breathing into you life like a clay mound made man. Your sister's hand in your own, her words in your ear: Frieda, precious, darling Frieda.[break][break]
The candy store on the street corner – the creases in corners of library books worn with age – ghost stories over campfires and the truth, out there, waiting to be found.[break][break]
Blanket forts at midnight.[break][break]
(Hiding – hiding from men who speak to your father in explosions, who stare you down with switch blades for eyes. Your safe in your fort, Lorelei promises, stay there 'til morning and no one will ever come.)[break][break]
Tickets to the baseball game, you've always wanted to go –[break][break]
( – but where is the money from? Just last week, you went to bed hungry, your father's wallet coughing up dust.)[break][break]
Snap a picture, smile for the cameras. A decade from now, they'll see you with cheer in your teeth and constellations in your eyes. (Backroom meetings, traded deals, scraping at Hell for a glimpse of Heaven; they wouldn't show up on film, even if you pointed the lens their way.)[break][break]
Karmic balance. Lorelei graduates with honors, and your father dies in a “work accident”.[break][break]
You don't tell anyone he'd been fired two weeks ago.[break][break]
oh, cleopatra is the only[break]
Money means everything in a world addicted to the dollar. You're flippant, tossing coins into machines and reveling in your gumball prize, but your sister faces a titan when freed from the school system, and – mortified – you watch her crumple at its feet. (Lorelei's never crumpled for anything.)[break][break]
She works harder than any man or woman you've ever seen in your life, because in her eyes, there is no option but to conquer or die. You'll slip through her fingers, comet dust in the wind if she does not provide more than your father ever did – ever would, ever could. It can't happen. ("It won't happen.") The apartment she buys you with shifts that stir at dawn and only settle at dusk is filth-ridden. Cockroaches in the cupboards. Mice in your walls. But you love it: because it was done for you, all for you, and that is what makes a place home. And when you turn eighteen, you merely have to tell her a name, tell her a city ("Seattle University, duh!"), and she presents to you the moving van with a quirk of the lips and bandages on her hands.[break][break]
But you're frightened of her gifts. More than that are you frightened of her and the gluttonous hole that stretches all the wider when she turns away. All things are give and take; losses for gain, sacrifices in the name of improvement; you know this because you were traded in before your name was Frieda Marlene. This isn't worth it, though. Why can't you ever tell her your future isn't worth her own?
You're born into this world a comet: birthed by the cosmos, baptized in destruction, a star fallen across the black canvas of the sky and an infant home tucked neatly into the hills of Colorado. It is the inevitable give and take of things, your own personal spin on the karmic balance that defines the universe and its tragedy of a play. Your parent marries the one they love, and for it, they lose the support of the parents who came before you. Your sister is welcomed, as bloody and fierce as the day she will go down in fire, and for it, your father gives up hope of his dream. And you, oh comet, offspring of stardust and starlight – [break][break]
You are born, and for it, your mother wilts.[break][break]
A crime with a victim but no culprit, and one, of course, you can't be blamed for you. In the eyes of fate, however, your life was equal to that of the woman who birthed you. Your price for life was her own. Your existence was built on the foundation of death – indebted to it, perhaps, penance you would pay for at the time of your own departure from this world.[break][break]
Lorelei never begrudges you for this, placing the weight of her blame, instead, on a ghost. ("Why did you leave, why did you go?")[break][break]
Your infancy passes like a dream, but still, your father looks at you and weeps. ("A murderer gone unpunished.")[break][break]
to the top of all the world,[break]
to the tasteless underworld
A childhood, framed in Polaroids, dreamt of in flashes:[break][break]
The green of the grass in your hands and the rush of the wind through your hair, mountain air breathing into you life like a clay mound made man. Your sister's hand in your own, her words in your ear: Frieda, precious, darling Frieda.[break][break]
The candy store on the street corner – the creases in corners of library books worn with age – ghost stories over campfires and the truth, out there, waiting to be found.[break][break]
Blanket forts at midnight.[break][break]
(Hiding – hiding from men who speak to your father in explosions, who stare you down with switch blades for eyes. Your safe in your fort, Lorelei promises, stay there 'til morning and no one will ever come.)[break][break]
Tickets to the baseball game, you've always wanted to go –[break][break]
( – but where is the money from? Just last week, you went to bed hungry, your father's wallet coughing up dust.)[break][break]
Snap a picture, smile for the cameras. A decade from now, they'll see you with cheer in your teeth and constellations in your eyes. (Backroom meetings, traded deals, scraping at Hell for a glimpse of Heaven; they wouldn't show up on film, even if you pointed the lens their way.)[break][break]
to the center of your heart
Karmic balance. Lorelei graduates with honors, and your father dies in a “work accident”.[break][break]
You don't tell anyone he'd been fired two weeks ago.[break][break]
oh, cleopatra is the only[break]
one you've loved
Money means everything in a world addicted to the dollar. You're flippant, tossing coins into machines and reveling in your gumball prize, but your sister faces a titan when freed from the school system, and – mortified – you watch her crumple at its feet. (Lorelei's never crumpled for anything.)[break][break]
She works harder than any man or woman you've ever seen in your life, because in her eyes, there is no option but to conquer or die. You'll slip through her fingers, comet dust in the wind if she does not provide more than your father ever did – ever would, ever could. It can't happen. ("It won't happen.") The apartment she buys you with shifts that stir at dawn and only settle at dusk is filth-ridden. Cockroaches in the cupboards. Mice in your walls. But you love it: because it was done for you, all for you, and that is what makes a place home. And when you turn eighteen, you merely have to tell her a name, tell her a city ("Seattle University, duh!"), and she presents to you the moving van with a quirk of the lips and bandages on her hands.[break][break]
But you're frightened of her gifts. More than that are you frightened of her and the gluttonous hole that stretches all the wider when she turns away. All things are give and take; losses for gain, sacrifices in the name of improvement; you know this because you were traded in before your name was Frieda Marlene. This isn't worth it, though. Why can't you ever tell her your future isn't worth her own?
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[attr="class","omapponetabs4"]PLAYER
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call me
LEAP
call me
LEAP
[attr="class","omapponeplayer1"]
PERSONAL MESSAGES, BUT DISCORD WORKS BEST
20 YEARS OLD | SHE / HER | CENTRAL |
PERSONAL MESSAGES, BUT DISCORD WORKS BEST
[attr="class","omapponerenown"]
5%
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