Hi. I was bored. so i made a character exactly like me, and ran with her. Enjoy!
lyn
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There are some people, who keep a web of mystery woven around them at all times. Who practicaly gleam with importance. Every movement, every word, everything they do feels like it MEANS something. Feels like, even if there just tapping their fingers, they have the power to change things, the power to bend the world around them and contort reality to their will. They dont hide from anything, and they are undoubtedly going to be earth shakers, the people who can convince you of everything, the people who lead riots and bring about a better tomorrow, the people who make big things from small beginnings. The leaders, of a shiny new future. There are some people who not only deserve respect, but demand it.
Macy was not one of those people.
In fact, she was quite the oposite. She had no web of mystery, her life was an open book to anyone who cared to listen. And in the importance department, she was rather lacking. She made a lot of exes motions, waving her hands about and jumping up and down like a mad woman. If givin the chance to shape the world, she'd probably make it into a kitten. A smile was permantly on her face, a toothy, 'i know i look ridiculous right now, and i honestly dont give a dam' smile, and she seemed to giggle more than actualy talk. It was hard to think of her her anything but happy, and equaly as hard to think of her withought a book. She watched anime and doctor who, and, although she loved them to death, could not beat a Zelda game for the life of her. and she had the strangest habit of talking to herself. A lot.
Physically, she was nothing special. About an average hight, with long... well... everything. Long hair, long legs, long arms, long face, long fingers, long.... u get the point. She had big, bright eyes, but they were a discustingly ordinary brown, with large dark circles drooping to her cheek bones ( counting in the fact that her cheek bones were rather high) Her hair was at best feathery, and at worst clumpy, it was much the same color as her eyes, exept with a few blonde strands scattered at random. It hung almost to her waist, and would not stay in any kind of set pattern. Her hips were narrow, and her waist was narrower, and she had an annoyingly large bust for her age. (u could tell it was annoying because she would tell you withought warning that it was unavoidablly irratating. She was needless to say, not very popular.)
Her social skills were less than satisfing, and she got teased constantly for her overwhelming oddness. Nevertheless she seemed irreversibly cheerful. Always the one to stand back up after falling down, always the one to keep a clear head, always the one to be like a rock. and never the one to cry.
It was hard to imagine that the smile was pasted, that the happiness was an act, that her open book life, was only what she wanted the world to think. It was hard to imagine the battlefield that was her, and the war she could not win.
It was hard to imagine the truth.
