CIVILIAN, joanna dyer
posted Sept 23, 2018 16:19:26 GMT -6
Jacque Marron likes this
[nospaces]
[attr="class","CIVILIAN"]
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[attr="class","omapponetop2"]revolution calling
[attr="class","omapponetop1"]FILES LOCATED UNDER
JOANNA DYER
JOANNA DYER
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JOANNA DYER
LOOKS LIKE EMANON FROM MEMORIES OF EMANON
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FILE NAVIGATION
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ABOUT JOANNA
ABOUT JOANNA
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JOAN
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JOAN
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25 YEARS OLD
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25 YEARS OLD
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CIS FEMALE
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CIS FEMALE
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SHE/HER
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SHE/HER
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DEMISEXUAL
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DEMISEXUAL
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DEMIROMANTIC
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DEMIROMANTIC
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SINGLE
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SINGLE
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SEPTEMBER 4TH
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SEPTEMBER 4TH
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VIRGO
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VIRGO
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WAITRESS
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WAITRESS
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RECENT STATUS
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i’ve known that i can't get what i want out of people it took me a long time to figure out i don’t know what i want
i’ve known that i can't get what i want out of people it took me a long time to figure out i don’t know what i want
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[attr="class","omapponelikes2"]POSITIVES
intelligent
hard-working
caring
protective
self-preserving
compassionate
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[attr="class","omapponelikes2"]NEGATIVES
wry
tired
dismissive
repressed
irritable
motherly
hot-tempered
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[attr="class","omapponetabs2"]MISCELLANEOUS
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MISCELLANEOUS INFO
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When she was in college someone described her as ‘svelte’ once, to which Joan asked, “What the hell does that mean?” One google search later, and she has zero clue why they didn’t just say she looked skinny. Which she is. Thin with long arms and legs, she looks like a beanpole. But a beanpole with a mean left hook. Yeah, she could use some more meat on her bones, but who has the money for that? No matter how many time the kind Asian lady who frequented the diner told her to eat more, it’s kind of a fruitless effort. Joan’s always been bony, so it’s safe to assume she’ll be bony for a long time coming. [break][break]
Despite her litheness though, Joan stands at a rather intimidating height of 5’11”, much to her enjoyment. Being able to stand over people is fun. It makes those awkward middle school years of growing into her limbs worth it. [break][break]
A prominent smattering of freckles covers the bridge of her nose and the tops of her shoulders, and they’d honestly look adorable on her if she didn’t scowl so much. That’s actually just the expression that falls across her features whenever she’s relaxed, like a resting bitch face. But don’t be mistaken, she still frowns a lot -- usually in response to being other people’s presence. The freckles do appear elsewhere, but they’re relatively faint. Her eyes are dark and can’t seem to make up their mind on what colour they want to settle on, appearing brown one day while more of hazel colour the next. [break][break]
Joanna’s hair is the colour of rust, and ridiculously long. It falls down her back in relatively straight layers, and yet despite its length she sometimes doesn’t even both to brush it in the morning. Why not cut it, you may ask? She doesn’t have enough money or effort to spare on her hair of all things. She’d much rather just tie it up out of her face whenever starts to annoy her, though she’s kind of learned to put up with it whenever it gets in her face. [break][break]
Because she has bad genetics, she’s recently been forced to get a pair of reading glasses which she begrudgingly uses whenever she reads or writes. But even though she should wear them, who’s to tell her off when she reads without them right? Joan has a single tattoo that she got before she left her hometown. It’s a bunch of detailed sunflowers. She has no real reason behind getting a tattoo of that particular flower, they’re just her favourite.
When she was in college someone described her as ‘svelte’ once, to which Joan asked, “What the hell does that mean?” One google search later, and she has zero clue why they didn’t just say she looked skinny. Which she is. Thin with long arms and legs, she looks like a beanpole. But a beanpole with a mean left hook. Yeah, she could use some more meat on her bones, but who has the money for that? No matter how many time the kind Asian lady who frequented the diner told her to eat more, it’s kind of a fruitless effort. Joan’s always been bony, so it’s safe to assume she’ll be bony for a long time coming. [break][break]
Despite her litheness though, Joan stands at a rather intimidating height of 5’11”, much to her enjoyment. Being able to stand over people is fun. It makes those awkward middle school years of growing into her limbs worth it. [break][break]
A prominent smattering of freckles covers the bridge of her nose and the tops of her shoulders, and they’d honestly look adorable on her if she didn’t scowl so much. That’s actually just the expression that falls across her features whenever she’s relaxed, like a resting bitch face. But don’t be mistaken, she still frowns a lot -- usually in response to being other people’s presence. The freckles do appear elsewhere, but they’re relatively faint. Her eyes are dark and can’t seem to make up their mind on what colour they want to settle on, appearing brown one day while more of hazel colour the next. [break][break]
Joanna’s hair is the colour of rust, and ridiculously long. It falls down her back in relatively straight layers, and yet despite its length she sometimes doesn’t even both to brush it in the morning. Why not cut it, you may ask? She doesn’t have enough money or effort to spare on her hair of all things. She’d much rather just tie it up out of her face whenever starts to annoy her, though she’s kind of learned to put up with it whenever it gets in her face. [break][break]
Because she has bad genetics, she’s recently been forced to get a pair of reading glasses which she begrudgingly uses whenever she reads or writes. But even though she should wear them, who’s to tell her off when she reads without them right? Joan has a single tattoo that she got before she left her hometown. It’s a bunch of detailed sunflowers. She has no real reason behind getting a tattoo of that particular flower, they’re just her favourite.
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+music
+naps
+animals
+late-night drives
+podcasts
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-dust
-phone calls
-liars
-headaches
-overtime
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[attr="class","omapponetabs3"]SUBJECT BIOGRAPHY
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The whole sob-story rough childhood -- absent father, less than adequate mother, forced parental responsibility… she can go on -- is something that’s overdone and tiring, so that’s exactly how Joan treats it. She regards the events that shaped her with a desire to forget and an appropriate level of learned indifference. It happened, people needed to move on. But even with that plan, Joanna can only do her best. [break][break]
Not all people’s stories begin before their born, Joan knows this because she has no clue how her parents met and were able to tolerate themselves long enough in order to have her. But she knows how her siblings’ stories started; with her mother’s careless regard to the consequences for her actions. That isn’t to say her siblings were mistakes -- Jacob and Nora were slightly annoying kids who she knew were change the damn world one day -- but it was because of the decisions her mother made, that Joan was forced to grow up when she was still just a child in order to look after her brother and sister. Because someone needed to mother them. And their actual mother wasn’t going to fucking do it, so that fell to Joan. It’s not like she needed a mother to take care of her. Nah, she was perfectly fine. [break][break]
So, when she was seven, Joan began taking take of her baby brother Jacob and then her sister Nora came along about a year after that. [break][break]
Thankfully, her mother was functional enough to keep a job, so money was never too much of an issue. As long as they stuck to their slightly limited budget, they were usually able to get by with little trouble. And when life decided to throw a curb ball their way, they always had the good ol’ cookie jar full of emergency money for that. [break][break]
Life dragged on at a snail’s pace and most of the time it was hard, but as Joan began nearing the end of her high school career she came to a decision. She was going places. She was going to get the fuck out of home, and do something with her life. She was going to be the first person in her family to go to college and she’d be better than what her mother was. But she tended to get a little distracted. [break][break]
There was a girl -- as there usually is -- a chick Joan had been absolutely gone on. Her close friend at the time who was a complete bombshell. Joan could honestly, to this day, wax poetic about how fucking bomb the chick was. Like Joan, Roxanne had the same less-than-stellar start. She was an angry spitfire with the coldest, bluest eyes she’d ever seen. But Roxanne was also the most caring and hardworking person she’d ever met. They’d known each other for so long, understood each other and cared for each other, that if Roxy had asked her to stay -- she would’ve. And that’s exactly why Roxanne never asked her. The furthest the two ever went was the harsh, hurried goodbye kiss when Joan was leaving for Seattle for college. [break][break]
Not that it’d worked out in the end. She’d lasted two month, before it became too much. She hated it. Absolutely hated every single part of the experience. The dorms, the classes, the people. So, she’d left. Was it a waste of money? Absolutely. Did she regret leaving? No, not really. [break][break]
But despite leaving college, she didn’t go home. Moving back to the crappy place she’d left didn’t appeal to her at all, so she didn’t. Joan pulled together the last pieces of cash she had left to stay in a shitty apartment while she looked for a job. It didn’t take her long to find a job waitressing at a twenty-four hour diner and that’s where she’s stayed for the past few years. [break][break]
But all that shit isn’t important. What’s important right now, is how the hell she’s going to pay the bills this week. Screw people who don’t leave tip, they can go to hell.
The whole sob-story rough childhood -- absent father, less than adequate mother, forced parental responsibility… she can go on -- is something that’s overdone and tiring, so that’s exactly how Joan treats it. She regards the events that shaped her with a desire to forget and an appropriate level of learned indifference. It happened, people needed to move on. But even with that plan, Joanna can only do her best. [break][break]
Not all people’s stories begin before their born, Joan knows this because she has no clue how her parents met and were able to tolerate themselves long enough in order to have her. But she knows how her siblings’ stories started; with her mother’s careless regard to the consequences for her actions. That isn’t to say her siblings were mistakes -- Jacob and Nora were slightly annoying kids who she knew were change the damn world one day -- but it was because of the decisions her mother made, that Joan was forced to grow up when she was still just a child in order to look after her brother and sister. Because someone needed to mother them. And their actual mother wasn’t going to fucking do it, so that fell to Joan. It’s not like she needed a mother to take care of her. Nah, she was perfectly fine. [break][break]
So, when she was seven, Joan began taking take of her baby brother Jacob and then her sister Nora came along about a year after that. [break][break]
Thankfully, her mother was functional enough to keep a job, so money was never too much of an issue. As long as they stuck to their slightly limited budget, they were usually able to get by with little trouble. And when life decided to throw a curb ball their way, they always had the good ol’ cookie jar full of emergency money for that. [break][break]
Life dragged on at a snail’s pace and most of the time it was hard, but as Joan began nearing the end of her high school career she came to a decision. She was going places. She was going to get the fuck out of home, and do something with her life. She was going to be the first person in her family to go to college and she’d be better than what her mother was. But she tended to get a little distracted. [break][break]
There was a girl -- as there usually is -- a chick Joan had been absolutely gone on. Her close friend at the time who was a complete bombshell. Joan could honestly, to this day, wax poetic about how fucking bomb the chick was. Like Joan, Roxanne had the same less-than-stellar start. She was an angry spitfire with the coldest, bluest eyes she’d ever seen. But Roxanne was also the most caring and hardworking person she’d ever met. They’d known each other for so long, understood each other and cared for each other, that if Roxy had asked her to stay -- she would’ve. And that’s exactly why Roxanne never asked her. The furthest the two ever went was the harsh, hurried goodbye kiss when Joan was leaving for Seattle for college. [break][break]
Not that it’d worked out in the end. She’d lasted two month, before it became too much. She hated it. Absolutely hated every single part of the experience. The dorms, the classes, the people. So, she’d left. Was it a waste of money? Absolutely. Did she regret leaving? No, not really. [break][break]
But despite leaving college, she didn’t go home. Moving back to the crappy place she’d left didn’t appeal to her at all, so she didn’t. Joan pulled together the last pieces of cash she had left to stay in a shitty apartment while she looked for a job. It didn’t take her long to find a job waitressing at a twenty-four hour diner and that’s where she’s stayed for the past few years. [break][break]
But all that shit isn’t important. What’s important right now, is how the hell she’s going to pay the bills this week. Screw people who don’t leave tip, they can go to hell.
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call me
KILEO
call me
KILEO
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DISCORD: KILEOBEAR #8941
18 YEARS OLD | SHE/HER | AEST |
DISCORD: KILEOBEAR #8941
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6%
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