Post by rin on Mar 1, 2010 23:39:39 GMT -5
The Player
[/size]OOC Name:
Rin
Age:
16
Gender:
Female
Other Characters:
n/a
The Character
[/size]Name:
Kimura Rin
Aliases:
n/a
Age:
18
Species:
Human
Planet of Origin:
Earth
Gender:
Female
Current Standing:
Unemployed; she lives in the St. Martin’s Orphanage for Multi-Raced Children. Technically, she was supposed to move out on her eighteenth birthday, but she cost so little that (what with her eating habits—or lack thereof—and general ability to stay out of trouble) they agreed to let her stay for another year, until she found somewhere else to work and live. Not that she’s really looking.
Detailed Appearance:
Like her mother, on the tips of her toes, Rin stands only at 5’5”. Like her mother, Rin has porcelain skin and charcoal hair. Like her mother, Rin has the classic Japanese appearance: small, fragile, demure.
But like her father, Rin has tempestuous grey eyes that can cut you like a knife. The ladies at the orphanage always said they looked like the eyes of a seventy-year-old in an eighteen-year-old’s body.
She wears the same clothes every day. A simple, long-sleeved shirt; whatever’s lying around. A baggy pair of jeans. Sneakers, if any shoes at all. Appearance is irrelevant; she wastes no time looking in mirrors, never bothers to make herself presentable. Her hair, reaching slightly past her shoulders, sometimes goes days without being brushed (and that only happens when one of the women at the orphanage pester her to) with long, shaggy bangs hanging in front of her face that cause people to often mistake her for an adolescent boy. Her fingernails are ragged and torn, and her small hands and feet are more than a little bruised from trying to scale the side of the orphanage multiple times. She was born with good teeth, and brushing them is about the only hygienic routine that she performs daily (besides bathing).
Strengths:
- Remarkable observation/deduction skills
- Ability to remain unnoticed for long periods of time
- Rather intimidating/generally unnerving stare
Weaknesses:
- Dislikes talking to people, listening to people, people in general
- Erratic, irritable and slightly? demented
- Rather intimidating/generally unnerving stare (both a strength and weakness depending on whether she actually intends to frighten the person she’s talking to)
Personality:
Rin dislikes people. Not so much in the sense that she hates them, or wants to physically injure them—although there are some— but rather that conversing makes her feel incredibly uncomfortable. This may be a result of constantly being alienated after sharing her ideas or thoughts with others, which are usually violent or confusing, or at the very least, drastically peculiar. She has good intentions, and is incredibly intelligent, but tends to have rather twisted ideas of how to fix things, giving the impression that she’s not altogether sane. Often, her awkward social skills come off as rude, or even cruel, so she ends up offending most people. When this happens, however, she never apologizes. She has never apologized for anything in her entire life.
Rin’s sense of right and wrong and life in general are rather skewed. She hates humans’ (and other races’) prejudiced and egotistical beliefs, but has ironically formed her own prejudice against them. She tries to be open-minded when she meets someone, but is quick to judge if that person does something she doesn’t approve of; this usually leads to mistrust on both sides.
Loud noises and bright, crowded places bother her; she prefers to be alone, or at least in quiet areas. One of the very few things she likes is rain. As a child, the women at the nursery would often find her standing out the rain; when questioned, her reason would be, “Rain washes away everything,” but they would scold her and make her sit in the kitchen where they could keep an eye on her. When she got older, she was careful not to get caught.
Most of her free time is spent reading. She dislikes most fictional books, but has a particular fondness for mysteries. The orphanage has a limited supply of books, so she took to making up her own in her head, so when people find her dazing off, this is probably what she’s doing.
Prized Possessions:
Rin likes to think she is above worldly, materialistic possessions.
History:
Rin’s father was a large man, physically and socially. A businessman, hungry for profit and admiration. No, admiration wasn’t the right word. Idolization. Worship. Envy. Fear. All things very far from admiration. His name on the scathing tongue of an enemy was a source of nourishment; it kept him alive, it kept him hungry for more. Her mother was poor, with little besides a pretty face to offer. She was quiet and submissive, yet graceful enough to maintain a sense of dignity. She was exactly what he needed, something to make him seem wholesome and reputable. And she, well, she really had nothing else to live for. So they married, and as expected, he treated her with the same amount of respect and understanding that he did with his colleagues and trusted acquaintances:
none at all. When he returned home at night, after a long day of rip-offs and lies, he would drink and yell and more often than not, glass bottles would fly across the room and narrowly miss her tear-free, frozen face. And when he was done, he would hold her and tell her he loved her and that no man could ask for a better wife.
And then she was pregnant. To the outside world, Kimura Iwao was the happiest man—the happiest living creature—alive. On the inside, nothing changed. Neither he nor his wife had expected it to. Their marriage was not out of love. Love wasn’t in the man’s vocabulary. It was a fictional concept. However, he would benefit from this turn of events. A son would be born, the doctors informed him; he would have a successor, someone to carry out the Kimura name, and there would be no reason to terminate the pregnancy. Unfortunately, when Kimura Iwao was told something would happen a certain way, he expected it to happen. When it didn’t happen exactly as he expected, he became very unhappy. Which is why the day he was handed a daughter instead of a son was the day Kimura Rin’s mother died.
Seven years later, during one of her father’s drunken ramblings, Rin learned that her mother had lied to Iwao when she found out he would terminate the pregnancy if he had a daughter. For that, Rin felt a slight tinge of what might have been respect for her mother, but it stopped there. No affection could be felt for a woman who married the man who came home every night and destroyed things, that much was obvious to the seven year old girl. And what she felt for her father…it was far, far beyond a lack of compassion. Loathing. Disgust. Things she wasn’t able to name, but could certainly feel.
The next year, she was placed in St. Martin’s Orphanage for Multi-Race Children. It took her quite a while to understand why she was sent there, but eventually it all made sense. Had she been sent there immediately after the death of her mother, it would have looked suspicious. People would have wondered if Iwao was trying to get rid of his daughter, and that would have soiled his reputation terribly. Somehow, however, he had managed to do that on his own. His businesses went bankrupt. People began to vocalize their doubts and suspicions about the man; what would have been the point, Rin reason, in taking her with him to wherever he fled? And she certainly wasn’t complaining. In fact—though most of the conversations with her housemates ended in someone crying and her running and sitting on the roof for hours—she even managed to grow used to the place, and made what she supposed was a friend. Well, he considered her a friend, and she considered him a person who she did not dislike. They had a sort of understanding, and eventually she even began vocalizing her thoughts; if he thought she was a lunatic, he never mentioned it. He even began referring to her as a sister. This lasted for several years, before he left to join the army, and she returned to her solitary lifestyle, a little more hostile than when she began.
Roleplay Sample:
Eight years ago.
“Rin, honey, where are you?” she heard the woman—Mrs. Metz—call. Rin ignored her, putting her hands in the pockets of her baggy jeans and staring out at the front lawn, which was drowning in the rain. “There you are. What are you doing out here in the rain?”
“Dancing,” Rin responded. She fixed her eyes on the clouds, feeling the sting of droplets on her eyes. She didn’t blink.
“Dancing? What on earth for?”
“I’m not dancing.” She tore her eyes away just long enough to glare at the woman, as if her question was arbitrary and bothersome. Mrs. Metz sighed and reached her hand out, knowing Rin wouldn’t take it.
“Come inside and get dried off.”
“I don’t want to,” Rin responded, but pushed past the woman and began walking towards the brick building. St. Martin’s Orphanage. In the two years she had lived there, she had never once seen this so-called Martin, or any saint for that matter. The women who ran it, who took care of the children, were utterly ordinary, but intelligent enough to realize their attempts to convince the ten-year-old that there were saints at all were futile. She wiped her wet feet on the rug and trudged up the stairs, into the bedroom that she shared with four other children, all of which were down at the dinner table. Rin couldn’t remember the last time she actually sat down to eat with them, and frankly, didn’t feel as if she were missing out on anything. Actually, it was probably better this way; somehow, she always managed to put everyone in a sour mood. Silently, she changed into her nightclothes, twisted the water out of the jeans and shirt she had been wearing, and hung them up. She brushed her teeth, for exactly two minutes, no less and no longer, and then crawled onto the bed, not bothering to undo the covers. Hugging her knees to her chest, she picked up a book, opened it, closed it, and set it back down. She had already read it four times.
Someone knocked on the door; a thin blonde boy, a couple years older than her, leaned in.
“Rin, you eating?” he asked.
She looked at him, locking eyes with his, before turning and laying down on the bed. He nodded and closed the door quietly. Finally, she let out a sigh—one she had been holding in for what felt like days—before closing her eyes.
She never fell asleep.
