CIVILIAN, Samantha Von Steffler
posted Oct 30, 2018 11:44:12 GMT -6
[nospaces]
[attr="class","CIVILIAN"]
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[attr="class","omapponetop2"]revolution calling
[attr="class","omapponetop1"]FILES LOCATED UNDER
SAMANTHA VON STEFFLER
SAMANTHA VON STEFFLER
[attr="class","omapponetopp"]
SAMANTHA VON STEFFLER
LOOKS LIKE SHIKI ICHINOSE FROM THE IDOLM@STER
[attr="class","omapponetopp1"]
FILE NAVIGATION
[attr="class","omapponemid"]
[attr="class","omapponebasics"]
[attr="class","omapponebasicstop"]
ABOUT SAMANTHA
ABOUT SAMANTHA
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot1"]
SAM, SAMMY
[attr="class","lnr lnr-star"]
SAM, SAMMY
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot"]
20 YEARS OLD
[attr="class","lnr lnr-gift"]
20 YEARS OLD
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot1"]
CIS FEMALE
[attr="class","lnr lnr-shirt"]
CIS FEMALE
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SHE/HER
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SHE/HER
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot1"]
BISEXUAL
[attr="class","lnr lnr-heart-pulse"]
BISEXUAL
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BIROMANTIC
[attr="class","lnr lnr-heart"]
BIROMANTIC
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot1"]
SINGLE
[attr="class","lnr lnr-users"]
SINGLE
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot"]
APRIL 12TH
[attr="class","lnr lnr-calendar-full"]
APRIL 12TH
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot1"]
ARIES
[attr="class","lnr lnr-moon"]
ARIES
[attr="class","omapponebasicsbot"]
POLITICIAN & CEO
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POLITICIAN & CEO
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[attr="class","omapponetabs1"]SUBJECT TEMPERAMENT
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RECENT STATUS
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an eye for an eye and both fools are blind; thus faith shall be my shield with both my eyes turned away.
an eye for an eye and both fools are blind; thus faith shall be my shield with both my eyes turned away.
[attr="class","omapponepersonality1"]SUBJECT TEMPERAMENT
[attr="class","omapponepersonality2"]
They are corrupt. They are power. [break][break]
They are not justice.[break][break]
She has order, she has power. She is the opposite of chaos, the calm that comes before the storm. She is the perfect image - the only thing she will be - of what the world should be, a system put into place by the hierarchy. Rules are all she has ever known, where the world looks up to a singular figure (a god, if you may call him) who condemns and cheats, prettying his so bland and cruel act of deceit. She knows nothing more than a world of manipulation, where her tongue must be kept shut in hopes for salvation. Speak as you will about a god, but she is a rational woman. For what she lacks in passion is found in her realism. Ideologies are dead; they have been dead for generations. She is a woman of little desires and fantasies (she learns that after he who she desired most abandoned her with no remorse). The world is not simple; it is not an open book. She detests those who are too naive to see it, and she despises those who turn a blind eye. She feels betrayed by the country she loves so much. [break][break]
The world cannot be perfect, as there will always be corruption.[break][break]
She sees the world for what it is (in all its putrid, hideous glory). She grows in a world where your life has monetary value, where effort is reflected off the paper scraps that are scraped by the desperate (like the pitiful, pathetic and greedy creatures they are). But she knows these scraps are what define your power and what define your worth, thus she adapts to this. She adapts to this hypocrisy and double standard. She has learned that in order to save this world, you must control it. In order to control this world, you must join it (and turn into the same, green-eyed monster as the rest). She is not blind to the world that took her eye, and she will gladly sacrifice her body and her life to step on those beneath her in order to thrive. She has learned to speak such horrid lies (disgusting child) with candy-laced words, smiling as a pretty face for the cameras. [break][break]
She is condescending and harsh, but deluded and stupid she is not. Her young age proves otherwise; the world is in no need for drastic changes. The world will never be perfect (or so she believes), and all it needs is innovation. It needs change in small amounts, it needs more of the better (and less of the "bettering of the better"). She has since shed her childhood heart for the sake of the city, the country (herself), and the people within it. She is not a pawn. She is not a piece, and she will not be used. She will step on those who support her, she will take what they love, and she will make them squirm under the heel of her shoe. She will walk all over and kick them up like dirt, then dispose of them like they hadn't been of any use. [break][break]
Calm composure with thoughts of her own (are they really her own, or what has been drilled into her head by the words of the dead?) that glare at the world with cold eyes. She learns about her surroundings, how to work with them and how to manipulate them. But though she will push and she will steal the efforts, she will never rob a man's life. Every person deserves a chance - and those who do not seize it are cowardly. [break][break]
In the end, she is her own person. She is independant. No longer will there be a power above her, and no longer will she be laughed at by the masses. Have them hate her. Take her heart, status, reputation and her accomplishments. Take her ideas, education, childhood and freedom. [break][break]
But never - she repeats - will she be stripped of her dignity, pride, or purpose. [break][break]
For without her resolve, what would she have sacrificed in her tyranny of power for?
They are corrupt. They are power. [break][break]
They are not justice.[break][break]
She has order, she has power. She is the opposite of chaos, the calm that comes before the storm. She is the perfect image - the only thing she will be - of what the world should be, a system put into place by the hierarchy. Rules are all she has ever known, where the world looks up to a singular figure (a god, if you may call him) who condemns and cheats, prettying his so bland and cruel act of deceit. She knows nothing more than a world of manipulation, where her tongue must be kept shut in hopes for salvation. Speak as you will about a god, but she is a rational woman. For what she lacks in passion is found in her realism. Ideologies are dead; they have been dead for generations. She is a woman of little desires and fantasies (she learns that after he who she desired most abandoned her with no remorse). The world is not simple; it is not an open book. She detests those who are too naive to see it, and she despises those who turn a blind eye. She feels betrayed by the country she loves so much. [break][break]
The world cannot be perfect, as there will always be corruption.[break][break]
She sees the world for what it is (in all its putrid, hideous glory). She grows in a world where your life has monetary value, where effort is reflected off the paper scraps that are scraped by the desperate (like the pitiful, pathetic and greedy creatures they are). But she knows these scraps are what define your power and what define your worth, thus she adapts to this. She adapts to this hypocrisy and double standard. She has learned that in order to save this world, you must control it. In order to control this world, you must join it (and turn into the same, green-eyed monster as the rest). She is not blind to the world that took her eye, and she will gladly sacrifice her body and her life to step on those beneath her in order to thrive. She has learned to speak such horrid lies (disgusting child) with candy-laced words, smiling as a pretty face for the cameras. [break][break]
She is condescending and harsh, but deluded and stupid she is not. Her young age proves otherwise; the world is in no need for drastic changes. The world will never be perfect (or so she believes), and all it needs is innovation. It needs change in small amounts, it needs more of the better (and less of the "bettering of the better"). She has since shed her childhood heart for the sake of the city, the country (herself), and the people within it. She is not a pawn. She is not a piece, and she will not be used. She will step on those who support her, she will take what they love, and she will make them squirm under the heel of her shoe. She will walk all over and kick them up like dirt, then dispose of them like they hadn't been of any use. [break][break]
Calm composure with thoughts of her own (are they really her own, or what has been drilled into her head by the words of the dead?) that glare at the world with cold eyes. She learns about her surroundings, how to work with them and how to manipulate them. But though she will push and she will steal the efforts, she will never rob a man's life. Every person deserves a chance - and those who do not seize it are cowardly. [break][break]
In the end, she is her own person. She is independant. No longer will there be a power above her, and no longer will she be laughed at by the masses. Have them hate her. Take her heart, status, reputation and her accomplishments. Take her ideas, education, childhood and freedom. [break][break]
But never - she repeats - will she be stripped of her dignity, pride, or purpose. [break][break]
For without her resolve, what would she have sacrificed in her tyranny of power for?
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[attr="class","omapponetabs2"]MISCELLANEOUS
][attr="class","omapponemisc"]
[attr="class","omapponemisc3"]
MISCELLANEOUS INFO
[attr="class","omapponemisc4"]
✐ Samantha was actually born to a corrupt politician; the only daughter to a corrupted man and his gold-digging wife. It's ironic how she has to play by the book of what she hates the most, in order to get to a point where she can make a change without harm to the citizens. She is a politician who plays by the corrupted book in order to get others to listen to her words.
[break][break]
✐ She's probably the best liar on this side of Seattle, because no lie detector can decipher this girl. Not even the keenest of keen, using a mask so precise and tailored to herself that none could tell the difference. In contrast, she is the most efficient at picking out lies and poking holes in stories with usage of logic. She can think of long term stories and lies, and fabricate impulsive lies on the spot with no way to tell fib from reality.
[break][break]
✐ She has a glass eye somewhere in her room, but she doesn't really wear it all too often. Instead, she'd rather wear her eyepatch because it reminds her that she's not some perfect model kid. That, and she thinks that the eyepatch makes her look cute and cool at the same time. Lowkey wishes that it was a flower one, though. That would be awesome.
[break][break]
✐ Whereas her father was German, her mother is of French descent. You'll probably hear her cussing in German or French when something goes wrong.
✐ Samantha was actually born to a corrupt politician; the only daughter to a corrupted man and his gold-digging wife. It's ironic how she has to play by the book of what she hates the most, in order to get to a point where she can make a change without harm to the citizens. She is a politician who plays by the corrupted book in order to get others to listen to her words.
[break][break]
✐ She's probably the best liar on this side of Seattle, because no lie detector can decipher this girl. Not even the keenest of keen, using a mask so precise and tailored to herself that none could tell the difference. In contrast, she is the most efficient at picking out lies and poking holes in stories with usage of logic. She can think of long term stories and lies, and fabricate impulsive lies on the spot with no way to tell fib from reality.
[break][break]
✐ She has a glass eye somewhere in her room, but she doesn't really wear it all too often. Instead, she'd rather wear her eyepatch because it reminds her that she's not some perfect model kid. That, and she thinks that the eyepatch makes her look cute and cool at the same time. Lowkey wishes that it was a flower one, though. That would be awesome.
[break][break]
✐ Whereas her father was German, her mother is of French descent. You'll probably hear her cussing in German or French when something goes wrong.
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+tea
+control
+obedience
+family
[attr="class","omapponemisc2"]
[attr="class","omapponemisc21"]
-politicians
-corruption
-anarchy
-dishonesty
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[attr="class","omapponetabs3"]SUBJECT BIOGRAPHY
][attr="class","omapponebio"]
[attr="class","omapponebio1"]
"Let faith be your shield" says a now dead man, of whom you learned to love too late.[break][break]
You don't recall a time when you were a child, and if you do you'll say she no longer exists. As far as you are concerned, you have always been adult. You have been trained to be an adult your entire life - if you were anything but, what would the toiling be for? What would be the fruit of your efforts? Raised behind beautifully decorated walls, embroidery and engravings running down the corridors. Your world is bright in the grand scheme of it all. It wasn't long until you learn that the world around you is a ruse to hide such a beautifully hideous world outside your bubble. [break][break]
You learn about the world around you, bit by bit. Your parents raise you (with their servants) as you mould your views through dirt lens. Money is what makes this world go round, and power is what keeps it going round. [break][break]
But as you grow, even through your school years, money is how humans measure your worth. Your education (though given to you and shoved down your throat, you bit your tongue and swallowed the words that weren't your own while spitting them back onto pages), your status (a fickle thing; gifts are showered over your head and bash, bury and suffocate you as leering eyes and sharp tongues boast of their "value") and your family (a man who saw you as a walking heiress and a woman who married for money, green eyes only pink when the same green waves in her face). [break][break]
You don't know how old you were when you started to look back on these things. Small things, insignificant things, that shouldn't have as much power as they did over your life. No matter how much you denied it (because it was the only thing you were good at), you could never avoid it.[break][break]
You were at the lowest, a laughing stock of your time. You were stupid, dumb, insignificant and worthless. In this cruel world, empathy is weakness (you can talk a man out of throwing it all away, but you couldn't solve that question in the textbook). It was infuriating, and all you could think of was "how do I improve?". Day and day passed, going from "my" future to "their" futures. The heiress was not to be stupid. You would be the punching bag of the political world. Your parents would despise you, others will glare at you in contempt. [break][break]
No, you were not inferior to them. [break][break]
You were a noble, you were a von. [break][break]
Then as you attended school, you met him. He worked as hard as you did, he loved this country as much as you did. He wanted to help other people as much as you did. You were young and naive, the two of your sharing the ideals of a "better" country. You vow to stick next to each other, to protect this country together, and to help as many people as you could as you grew. You both promised that you would save this dying and wilting country (idealistic words from the innocent, but fate had much more complicated plans for these two). You don't recall when it was, but eventually you grew to love spending time with him. Your heart beat, your smile radiant. Even thought your childhood years and your early teenage years. [break][break]
Through the bruises from your parents, the sneers from your mother and the threats from your father. Between the snickers from your classmates to the break downs from you friend, you found yourself drawn to him regardless. He was your totem, your beacon. He was what made you smile in the day, what made you think "maybe this will all be worth it in the end" (even through his addictions, where he sought the liquids from the needle over your presence). You never dare admit it now, but the desire to see him must have been love (and it did such a damn good job at blinding you).[break][break]
Without a word, he left. You left you without a second thought, a word, or even a farewell. Your beacon, your only source of happiness had left you. What made you wake up in the morning, the one who made you smile and laugh at his antics was gone, out of your life. Your heart cracked, you cried and you broke. It was pathetic, how much you relied on a single person and how hard you came crashing down after this one person left. Shortly after, your parents introduced you to another boy. The same age as he was, with the same, kind voice and the same, kind words (you were blinded by this love, refusing to believe it was orchestrated for the future generations). [break][break]
You would not give him up, you thought. You will treasure this man, and you will marry him. You loved him with all your heart, being kind and such. He was kind. He was polite. He saw how you saw, and he agreed with what you said. You loved him. You loved him unconditionally (or were you just using him, projecting the image of that failure because of love you can't let go?). [break][break]
The love was fickle (you were holding on not because you loved him, but to forget about another) and it showed soon after. The year later, another girl turned up. She was kind, indefinitely precious. It wasn't a stretch to say that he captured your then fiancee's heart, and his responses hadn't gone unnoticed by you. You glared at the girl out of petty spite (a level that not even you would head to). You would speak ill of her behind her back, and sometimes sneer at her in her face. [break][break]
You hated her. You hated her. She was going to take away the man you loved. [break][break]
You hated her, and everyone else knew. The would bully her, they would hurt her. You didn't know how much she was hurt, and you never dared to pay any close attention. You only insulted her on the rare occasion, but you would only really speak ill of her. This went out of your hands and your control, and you fiancee found out. You, who was innocent yet guilty, was pit at the courtyard with eyes glaring you down. The crowds that backed you up were glaring down, snickering while pointing fingers at you. [break][break]
"It was her."[break]
No it wasn't.[break][break]
"She told us to do it."[break]
No I didn't.[break][break]
"We were scared, she threatened us."[break]
You're lying.[break][break]
"That's really sick of her to do it, right?"[break]
Stop that, shut up.[break][break]
"Thinks she's all that just because she's a little cute."[break][break]
"Shut up!" You suddenly screamed in agitation, only to have one of your fiancee's friends grabbing you. He held you by the shoulder, pushing you down to the ground into a kneel when you tried to stand up. You shot him a glare (the same as your father's, the look reflecting off his pupil was foreign to you) but he didn't falter. You hissed words that you could never have thought of, but nevertheless you were mature. You were calm and composed, as your parents had taught you without fail (drilled it so hard into your head; you forgot how many bumps and bruises you sustained learning that). [break][break]
You were a snake, you were vicious. There was little you could say in your situation, and it wasn't long until you were expelled from your private school. You returned home and hid out in your room (holding black and blue arms, head in your hands as you cried until you couldn't breathe). They were going to disown you. They were going to kick you out, smash you to pieces if you didn't speak up-- [break][break]
If you didn't speak up. [break][break]
The next morning, you picked yourself up. You dressed yourself up, you walked to your father's chambers to speak with him. You apologized, not to the man who was a politician nor a man in the government; but you apologized to the man whom was your father. You were an intelligent young woman, were it not from your books and your numbers. A mere, few words with the man and he snickered, laughed (as someone so young could figure out politics, economics and a plan he came up with). Were it any day else, you would be trembling. You would be a coward, hiding behind anyone you could (it wasn't until being thrown away, cast by everyone you'd ever known and being humiliated for the rest of your life) until you couldn't, and now you had to pay both the price, and adjust to this. [break][break]
You threw away your childhood. [break][break]
You continued to be privately tutored, soon to earn your GDP at the age of seventeen. Though you did not attend post secondary, you dedicated the rest of your days in the world of business, law, and politics such did your mother and your father. Living under such the blind eye of school and such, you found how much your city was really suffering. You found multiple sources of this, but nothing could compare to your findings. You were astonished, the answer was under your nose (and it took the form of your family, along with their friends). [break][break]
It was a reign made with blood, a legacy built over violence and revenge. The hierarchy was flawed, but you could not stand to repeat an unruly history. You were young, only eighteen when you found out. However you were not stupid; contrary to that, you were observant. You stared and analyzed, smiling and learning about people. Cut off your emotions, abandon all ideology. The men and women now will not change. They will never change. [break][break]
You fortune came from the taxpayers, from the people who toiled while your family basked in luxuries without lifting a finger. It was unjust and unfair, but to them you were stupid. You needn't the money made from another's suffering, and so you started up a business. You started up a pastry cafe, directed towards other women. Beauty sweets, you would call them. Sweets that would assist in skin care, health, and otherwise. The best way to cater to the people was through vanity, you learned, was to help them (no matter who it is, a human seeks acceptance and flattery. If there is something that gives them both, they will be drawn like moths to a flame). [break][break]
You will make your own money. You refuse to rely on the people around you, and you will help people your own way. You opened up jobs, you manage your own business with people to help you. You grow in the span of two years, rapidly attaining recognition. Yet those around you will never take you seriously, because you were so young (age was complicated; to them, the number represents amount of experience and wisdom). They would not take you seriously. Your words to them was child's play; naive and hopeful words from a bimbo who didn't know what she was talking about. [break][break]
They will not listen to anyone less corrupt than them. Kindness will not win, you can never get anywhere with sympathy. You learned that at a young age, but you never fully understood it until now. Even so, you left these to your father. You will focus on your business, because it's the only thing that could help others that wasn't a corrupt practice. [break][break]
You and your father grew close, you were beginning to learn about his point of view, and why he taught you the way he had. You were late, but you grew to love him (twisted as it may have been, through the "i hate you"s and the "You are trash"s). [break][break]
You never expected him to turn up dead, bleeding out in his bedroom as you approached to give him sweets that you made. [break][break]
The last time you saw him was in his coffin, adorned with flowers and pleasantries (but you knew underneath was snickering, eyeing your now "vulnerable" mother and the "bimbo" daughter). You knew they were sneering at you, you knew they were laughing. Your mother hadn't shed a single tear, and hence neither were you. Your father's words rung true in your ears; a moment of weakness will be your downfall. [break][break]
No matter how much you wanted to cry, you would not lose your dignity in front of these ungrateful pigs. [break][break]
You threw away your childhood. you took your father's place as the youngest politician at the time, and possibly in history. You were intelligent, you were rational. You'e seen the issues and diligently read the papers your father tossed to the side; you knew of the issues that this country faced. You were a politician, and yet no one listened to you. Your mother searched for another man who could satisfy her needs (or her greed, for money was the only thing on her mind). He used your situation to garner the sympathy from the masses, much to your chagrin (but the insults and the bruises would not stop if you didn't keep silent, and so you did and neither of you spoke anymore than you should). [break][break]
In order to gain the trust and the power, you learned that being kind was no longer an option. To save this country, you had to destroy it. [break][break]
To save this city, you needed to destroy it. You needed to assert your power, and only then will those seeking to destroy it quiver in fear of your power and influence. Yes, you will play corrupt. You will be worse than them. You will be crueler, you will be more vain. You will be degrading, vindictive, picky and bratty. You will be what your father was, and you will be cruel. You will step on the people beneath you without shedding a tear, and you will destroy for the sake of stepping up in the world. You will be worse than your father, you will play by your own rules. You will run your business and you will assert your position in this government. [break][break]
You will fix it by destroying it, then becoming it. [break][break]
You are not a pawn. [break][break]
You will never be a pawn. [break][break]
Not again.
"Let faith be your shield" says a now dead man, of whom you learned to love too late.[break][break]
You don't recall a time when you were a child, and if you do you'll say she no longer exists. As far as you are concerned, you have always been adult. You have been trained to be an adult your entire life - if you were anything but, what would the toiling be for? What would be the fruit of your efforts? Raised behind beautifully decorated walls, embroidery and engravings running down the corridors. Your world is bright in the grand scheme of it all. It wasn't long until you learn that the world around you is a ruse to hide such a beautifully hideous world outside your bubble. [break][break]
You learn about the world around you, bit by bit. Your parents raise you (with their servants) as you mould your views through dirt lens. Money is what makes this world go round, and power is what keeps it going round. [break][break]
But as you grow, even through your school years, money is how humans measure your worth. Your education (though given to you and shoved down your throat, you bit your tongue and swallowed the words that weren't your own while spitting them back onto pages), your status (a fickle thing; gifts are showered over your head and bash, bury and suffocate you as leering eyes and sharp tongues boast of their "value") and your family (a man who saw you as a walking heiress and a woman who married for money, green eyes only pink when the same green waves in her face). [break][break]
You don't know how old you were when you started to look back on these things. Small things, insignificant things, that shouldn't have as much power as they did over your life. No matter how much you denied it (because it was the only thing you were good at), you could never avoid it.[break][break]
he once thought the same
You were at the lowest, a laughing stock of your time. You were stupid, dumb, insignificant and worthless. In this cruel world, empathy is weakness (you can talk a man out of throwing it all away, but you couldn't solve that question in the textbook). It was infuriating, and all you could think of was "how do I improve?". Day and day passed, going from "my" future to "their" futures. The heiress was not to be stupid. You would be the punching bag of the political world. Your parents would despise you, others will glare at you in contempt. [break][break]
No, you were not inferior to them. [break][break]
You were a noble, you were a von. [break][break]
Then as you attended school, you met him. He worked as hard as you did, he loved this country as much as you did. He wanted to help other people as much as you did. You were young and naive, the two of your sharing the ideals of a "better" country. You vow to stick next to each other, to protect this country together, and to help as many people as you could as you grew. You both promised that you would save this dying and wilting country (idealistic words from the innocent, but fate had much more complicated plans for these two). You don't recall when it was, but eventually you grew to love spending time with him. Your heart beat, your smile radiant. Even thought your childhood years and your early teenage years. [break][break]
Through the bruises from your parents, the sneers from your mother and the threats from your father. Between the snickers from your classmates to the break downs from you friend, you found yourself drawn to him regardless. He was your totem, your beacon. He was what made you smile in the day, what made you think "maybe this will all be worth it in the end" (even through his addictions, where he sought the liquids from the needle over your presence). You never dare admit it now, but the desire to see him must have been love (and it did such a damn good job at blinding you).[break][break]
he left you
Without a word, he left. You left you without a second thought, a word, or even a farewell. Your beacon, your only source of happiness had left you. What made you wake up in the morning, the one who made you smile and laugh at his antics was gone, out of your life. Your heart cracked, you cried and you broke. It was pathetic, how much you relied on a single person and how hard you came crashing down after this one person left. Shortly after, your parents introduced you to another boy. The same age as he was, with the same, kind voice and the same, kind words (you were blinded by this love, refusing to believe it was orchestrated for the future generations). [break][break]
You would not give him up, you thought. You will treasure this man, and you will marry him. You loved him with all your heart, being kind and such. He was kind. He was polite. He saw how you saw, and he agreed with what you said. You loved him. You loved him unconditionally (or were you just using him, projecting the image of that failure because of love you can't let go?). [break][break]
The love was fickle (you were holding on not because you loved him, but to forget about another) and it showed soon after. The year later, another girl turned up. She was kind, indefinitely precious. It wasn't a stretch to say that he captured your then fiancee's heart, and his responses hadn't gone unnoticed by you. You glared at the girl out of petty spite (a level that not even you would head to). You would speak ill of her behind her back, and sometimes sneer at her in her face. [break][break]
You hated her. You hated her. She was going to take away the man you loved. [break][break]
You hated her, and everyone else knew. The would bully her, they would hurt her. You didn't know how much she was hurt, and you never dared to pay any close attention. You only insulted her on the rare occasion, but you would only really speak ill of her. This went out of your hands and your control, and you fiancee found out. You, who was innocent yet guilty, was pit at the courtyard with eyes glaring you down. The crowds that backed you up were glaring down, snickering while pointing fingers at you. [break][break]
"It was her."[break]
No it wasn't.[break][break]
"She told us to do it."[break]
No I didn't.[break][break]
"We were scared, she threatened us."[break]
You're lying.[break][break]
"That's really sick of her to do it, right?"[break]
Stop that, shut up.[break][break]
"Thinks she's all that just because she's a little cute."[break][break]
"Shut up!" You suddenly screamed in agitation, only to have one of your fiancee's friends grabbing you. He held you by the shoulder, pushing you down to the ground into a kneel when you tried to stand up. You shot him a glare (the same as your father's, the look reflecting off his pupil was foreign to you) but he didn't falter. You hissed words that you could never have thought of, but nevertheless you were mature. You were calm and composed, as your parents had taught you without fail (drilled it so hard into your head; you forgot how many bumps and bruises you sustained learning that). [break][break]
you learned how to hate
You were a snake, you were vicious. There was little you could say in your situation, and it wasn't long until you were expelled from your private school. You returned home and hid out in your room (holding black and blue arms, head in your hands as you cried until you couldn't breathe). They were going to disown you. They were going to kick you out, smash you to pieces if you didn't speak up-- [break][break]
If you didn't speak up. [break][break]
The next morning, you picked yourself up. You dressed yourself up, you walked to your father's chambers to speak with him. You apologized, not to the man who was a politician nor a man in the government; but you apologized to the man whom was your father. You were an intelligent young woman, were it not from your books and your numbers. A mere, few words with the man and he snickered, laughed (as someone so young could figure out politics, economics and a plan he came up with). Were it any day else, you would be trembling. You would be a coward, hiding behind anyone you could (it wasn't until being thrown away, cast by everyone you'd ever known and being humiliated for the rest of your life) until you couldn't, and now you had to pay both the price, and adjust to this. [break][break]
You threw away your childhood. [break][break]
You continued to be privately tutored, soon to earn your GDP at the age of seventeen. Though you did not attend post secondary, you dedicated the rest of your days in the world of business, law, and politics such did your mother and your father. Living under such the blind eye of school and such, you found how much your city was really suffering. You found multiple sources of this, but nothing could compare to your findings. You were astonished, the answer was under your nose (and it took the form of your family, along with their friends). [break][break]
It was a reign made with blood, a legacy built over violence and revenge. The hierarchy was flawed, but you could not stand to repeat an unruly history. You were young, only eighteen when you found out. However you were not stupid; contrary to that, you were observant. You stared and analyzed, smiling and learning about people. Cut off your emotions, abandon all ideology. The men and women now will not change. They will never change. [break][break]
that'd be a child's dream
You fortune came from the taxpayers, from the people who toiled while your family basked in luxuries without lifting a finger. It was unjust and unfair, but to them you were stupid. You needn't the money made from another's suffering, and so you started up a business. You started up a pastry cafe, directed towards other women. Beauty sweets, you would call them. Sweets that would assist in skin care, health, and otherwise. The best way to cater to the people was through vanity, you learned, was to help them (no matter who it is, a human seeks acceptance and flattery. If there is something that gives them both, they will be drawn like moths to a flame). [break][break]
You will make your own money. You refuse to rely on the people around you, and you will help people your own way. You opened up jobs, you manage your own business with people to help you. You grow in the span of two years, rapidly attaining recognition. Yet those around you will never take you seriously, because you were so young (age was complicated; to them, the number represents amount of experience and wisdom). They would not take you seriously. Your words to them was child's play; naive and hopeful words from a bimbo who didn't know what she was talking about. [break][break]
They will not listen to anyone less corrupt than them. Kindness will not win, you can never get anywhere with sympathy. You learned that at a young age, but you never fully understood it until now. Even so, you left these to your father. You will focus on your business, because it's the only thing that could help others that wasn't a corrupt practice. [break][break]
You and your father grew close, you were beginning to learn about his point of view, and why he taught you the way he had. You were late, but you grew to love him (twisted as it may have been, through the "i hate you"s and the "You are trash"s). [break][break]
You never expected him to turn up dead, bleeding out in his bedroom as you approached to give him sweets that you made. [break][break]
The last time you saw him was in his coffin, adorned with flowers and pleasantries (but you knew underneath was snickering, eyeing your now "vulnerable" mother and the "bimbo" daughter). You knew they were sneering at you, you knew they were laughing. Your mother hadn't shed a single tear, and hence neither were you. Your father's words rung true in your ears; a moment of weakness will be your downfall. [break][break]
No matter how much you wanted to cry, you would not lose your dignity in front of these ungrateful pigs. [break][break]
you grew up
You threw away your childhood. you took your father's place as the youngest politician at the time, and possibly in history. You were intelligent, you were rational. You'e seen the issues and diligently read the papers your father tossed to the side; you knew of the issues that this country faced. You were a politician, and yet no one listened to you. Your mother searched for another man who could satisfy her needs (or her greed, for money was the only thing on her mind). He used your situation to garner the sympathy from the masses, much to your chagrin (but the insults and the bruises would not stop if you didn't keep silent, and so you did and neither of you spoke anymore than you should). [break][break]
In order to gain the trust and the power, you learned that being kind was no longer an option. To save this country, you had to destroy it. [break][break]
To save this city, you needed to destroy it. You needed to assert your power, and only then will those seeking to destroy it quiver in fear of your power and influence. Yes, you will play corrupt. You will be worse than them. You will be crueler, you will be more vain. You will be degrading, vindictive, picky and bratty. You will be what your father was, and you will be cruel. You will step on the people beneath you without shedding a tear, and you will destroy for the sake of stepping up in the world. You will be worse than your father, you will play by your own rules. You will run your business and you will assert your position in this government. [break][break]
You will fix it by destroying it, then becoming it. [break][break]
You are not a pawn. [break][break]
You will never be a pawn. [break][break]
Not again.
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MARSHMALLOW
call me
MARSHMALLOW
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DISCORD
18 YEARS OLD | SHE/HER | EST |
DISCORD
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20%
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