Difference between revisions of "Cassandra Swan"
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==<center><font face="Scruff LET" size="5" color="#1d2739"><b>history</b></font></center>== | ==<center><font face="Scruff LET" size="5" color="#1d2739"><b>history</b></font></center>== | ||
[[Image:CassieJuly.png|500px|right]] | [[Image:CassieJuly.png|500px|right]] | ||
− | <u><b> | + | <u><b>a letter from inside</b></u><br> |
− | : | + | :Dear Me, |
− | + | :How are you, me? Are you used to these four walls yet? I think you are, given that you know that there are exactly 483 tiles that make up the brick hidden under the tapestries and that there are 36.5 wooden floor boards under the red fuzzy rug. It takes seven steps to get from the bed to the door, three if you jump or take big steps. The desk and bed frames are both made of wood, but it’s a dark walnut and it’s been sealed somehow, probably with a ward, so I can’t rip it apart and use it to put myself out of my own misery, should I feel such an end to my misery is required. The chair at my desk, which is five and a half steps from my bed, is a plush red executive chair. It squeaks a little when you sit in it, more if you shift to the side. It’s around a G, but it’s around a quarter step flat. | |
− | + | :The book case on the other side of the room, at the foot of the bed, which you can reach if you really lean or take a single step off the bed, has eighteen books on its shelves. The closet in the corner, 6 steps from the bed, has all my clothing in it, including his vest. | |
− | : | ||
− | + | :I never take the pendant off, from around my neck. I never will. Nobody needs to know that the metal bars of the bird cage are infused with his ashes. It’s all I have left of him. It’s all I have. It’s all I need anymore in this world to keep waking up every night and pushing forward. | |
+ | |||
+ | :How did this begin, self? How did we get to where we are? Do you remember? I don’t want to forget, and I might be forced to forget, so I’m writing this now and placing it beyond the mirrors, like he taught me. They gave me a mirror, I could’ve just left, because they gave me a god damn mirror and placed it in my room, but that in itself was also part of the test. A test to see if I’m really dedicated to this notion that we weren’t the evil they said we were. If we’re really loyal to House and Clan like we always claimed, even at the end. | ||
+ | |||
+ | :These memories, of us, I don’t ever want them lost forever. | ||
+ | |||
+ | <u><b>before</b></u><br> | ||
+ | :It snowed in April that year. | ||
+ | |||
+ | It snowed in April the night they struck the house. There was snow on the ground when I ran from the house I’d grown up in. Snow on the ground that lost its white bleakness as the blood fell from me, from my clothing, from my person, in maroon droplets with every move I took. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Everything that happened was a blur. None of it made sense. These were the things of nightmares. These were the things of dreams. None of that could be real. My mind raced for rationalizations. Raced for meanings. Raced for understanding. I couldn’t report what I’d seen to the police. Nobody would believe me. | ||
+ | |||
+ | There was nothing left of my parents either. Or my brother. Or Fluffy. | ||
+ | |||
+ | There couldn’t be. | ||
+ | |||
+ | It wasn’t possible. | ||
+ | |||
+ | But, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to go. Where to turn, self. I couldn’t figure anything out. My mind just wouldn’t work. Nothing made sense. I just wanted things to make | ||
+ | sense again. Where did things make sense? | ||
+ | |||
+ | The playground. I’d gone there when I was little, so many times, to wander, to push myself, to think, and so in that moment, with my hands still stained with someone’s blood, I went to that park and I crouched into something smaller than I really was, pulling myself under the platform of the multi-tiered wooden structure. I buried my face in my knees and I tried to let my mind catch up to what my body felt. | ||
+ | |||
+ | I remember his voice, first, self, and the flick of a cigarette into the snow. “Hey.” He said and as he said it, I remember flinching before looking up slightly, at where the voice came from. I saw it then, that blue suit. Head to toe in a royal blue suit. It wasn’t hideous, but it wasn’t what normal people wore, not even in the late 90s. | ||
+ | |||
+ | There was a smile on your face when you saw the fear in my eyes, when you saw the confusion. Your hand reached out, after shifting the wooden staff into your other hand, “Come on now, | ||
+ | you can’t just hide there forever. I saw what happened, let me help you. I can explain what happened.” And so I grasped that which he reached out. My hand fell into his, and he pulled | ||
+ | me from the playground and out of the world I’d known for 19 years. | ||
<u><b>2015</b></u><br> | <u><b>2015</b></u><br> | ||
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<div align="right"> | <div align="right"> | ||
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==<font face="Scruff LET" size="5" background-color: #000000; color="#670505"><b>house blakk</b></font>== | ==<font face="Scruff LET" size="5" background-color: #000000; color="#670505"><b>house blakk</b></font>== | ||
<table style= "border: 3px solid #670505; border-radius: 10px; background-color:#000000; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom:10px; padding-right:15px; padding-left:15px;" width=1000px; overflow:auto; > | <table style= "border: 3px solid #670505; border-radius: 10px; background-color:#000000; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom:10px; padding-right:15px; padding-left:15px;" width=1000px; overflow:auto; > |
Revision as of 16:27, 22 March 2023
Clan | Tremere |
---|---|
Position | N/A |
Status | 2 |
Domain | Annapolis, MD |
Coterie | House Blakk |
Society | N/A |
Path | Humanity 0000 |
Player | Dora Jay |
Real Name: Cassandra Swan Alias(es): |
Personality Description: Cassie is a shy and visibly awkward yet genuinely friendly sort of girl who is always eager to help and seems very eager to please and prove herself. With glasses that are constantly slumping and a typical attire comprising of a teenager's hot topic closet from the mid to late 2000s, she really does not in any way shape or form give off the vibe of someone who has her stuff together but her genuine desire to help does tend to come through more often than not. To those with an eye to see such things, it does seem as though Cassie is the type of girl with stitches along her seams. Detailed Status: |
history
a letter from inside
- Dear Me,
- How are you, me? Are you used to these four walls yet? I think you are, given that you know that there are exactly 483 tiles that make up the brick hidden under the tapestries and that there are 36.5 wooden floor boards under the red fuzzy rug. It takes seven steps to get from the bed to the door, three if you jump or take big steps. The desk and bed frames are both made of wood, but it’s a dark walnut and it’s been sealed somehow, probably with a ward, so I can’t rip it apart and use it to put myself out of my own misery, should I feel such an end to my misery is required. The chair at my desk, which is five and a half steps from my bed, is a plush red executive chair. It squeaks a little when you sit in it, more if you shift to the side. It’s around a G, but it’s around a quarter step flat.
- The book case on the other side of the room, at the foot of the bed, which you can reach if you really lean or take a single step off the bed, has eighteen books on its shelves. The closet in the corner, 6 steps from the bed, has all my clothing in it, including his vest.
- I never take the pendant off, from around my neck. I never will. Nobody needs to know that the metal bars of the bird cage are infused with his ashes. It’s all I have left of him. It’s all I have. It’s all I need anymore in this world to keep waking up every night and pushing forward.
- How did this begin, self? How did we get to where we are? Do you remember? I don’t want to forget, and I might be forced to forget, so I’m writing this now and placing it beyond the mirrors, like he taught me. They gave me a mirror, I could’ve just left, because they gave me a god damn mirror and placed it in my room, but that in itself was also part of the test. A test to see if I’m really dedicated to this notion that we weren’t the evil they said we were. If we’re really loyal to House and Clan like we always claimed, even at the end.
- These memories, of us, I don’t ever want them lost forever.
before
- It snowed in April that year.
It snowed in April the night they struck the house. There was snow on the ground when I ran from the house I’d grown up in. Snow on the ground that lost its white bleakness as the blood fell from me, from my clothing, from my person, in maroon droplets with every move I took.
Everything that happened was a blur. None of it made sense. These were the things of nightmares. These were the things of dreams. None of that could be real. My mind raced for rationalizations. Raced for meanings. Raced for understanding. I couldn’t report what I’d seen to the police. Nobody would believe me.
There was nothing left of my parents either. Or my brother. Or Fluffy.
There couldn’t be.
It wasn’t possible.
But, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to go. Where to turn, self. I couldn’t figure anything out. My mind just wouldn’t work. Nothing made sense. I just wanted things to make sense again. Where did things make sense?
The playground. I’d gone there when I was little, so many times, to wander, to push myself, to think, and so in that moment, with my hands still stained with someone’s blood, I went to that park and I crouched into something smaller than I really was, pulling myself under the platform of the multi-tiered wooden structure. I buried my face in my knees and I tried to let my mind catch up to what my body felt.
I remember his voice, first, self, and the flick of a cigarette into the snow. “Hey.” He said and as he said it, I remember flinching before looking up slightly, at where the voice came from. I saw it then, that blue suit. Head to toe in a royal blue suit. It wasn’t hideous, but it wasn’t what normal people wore, not even in the late 90s.
There was a smile on your face when you saw the fear in my eyes, when you saw the confusion. Your hand reached out, after shifting the wooden staff into your other hand, “Come on now, you can’t just hide there forever. I saw what happened, let me help you. I can explain what happened.” And so I grasped that which he reached out. My hand fell into his, and he pulled me from the playground and out of the world I’d known for 19 years.
2015
Sem nulla pharetra diam sit amet nisl suscipit adipiscing bibendum. Nibh sit amet commodo nulla facilisi nullam vehicula ipsum. Sed faucibus turpis in eu mi. Sit amet aliquam id diam maecenas ultricies. Tellus rutrum tellus pellentesque eu. Leo duis ut diam quam. Egestas fringilla phasellus faucibus scelerisque eleifend. Ullamcorper morbi tincidunt ornare massa eget egestas purus viverra. Accumsan lacus vel facilisis volutpat. Facilisis sed odio morbi quis. Vivamus arcu felis bibendum ut. A cras semper auctor neque vitae tempus quam pellentesque. Ornare arcu dui vivamus arcu felis bibendum. At auctor urna nunc id cursus metus aliquam eleifend mi. Felis bibendum ut tristique et egestas quis. Bibendum est ultricies integer quis auctor elit sed vulputate mi. Scelerisque purus semper eget duis at tellus at. Vestibulum mattis ullamcorper velit sed ullamcorper morbi tincidunt. Integer feugiat scelerisque varius morbi enim nunc faucibus a. Faucibus scelerisque eleifend donec pretium vulputate sapien nec sagittis aliquam.
2017
- Dui faucibus in ornare quam viverra orci. Amet justo donec enim diam vulputate. Euismod elementum nisi quis eleifend. Tortor dignissim convallis aenean et tortor. Sit amet dictum sit amet justo donec enim diam. Turpis egestas maecenas pharetra convallis posuere morbi leo urna. Sed felis eget velit aliquet sagittis. Leo vel fringilla est ullamcorper eget nulla facilisi. Consectetur adipiscing elit duis tristique sollicitudin nibh. Feugiat pretium nibh ipsum consequat nisl vel pretium lectus. Purus faucibus ornare suspendisse sed nisi. Convallis a cras semper auctor neque vitae. Tellus orci ac auctor augue mauris augue neque gravida in. Ipsum consequat nisl vel pretium lectus quam id leo in. Volutpat ac tincidunt vitae semper quis lectus nulla at. Volutpat ac tincidunt vitae semper quis lectus nulla at volutpat. Nec dui nunc mattis enim ut tellus elementum sagittis vitae.
house blakk
Cassie's Perspectives
top 8
photo album
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soundtracks
cassie swan |
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2021 | 2022 | 2023 |
original playlist |
2022 list | winter 2022 / 2023 spring 2023 |
character inspirations
rumours
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