#3gen.

--- over and over, the only truth: everything comes back to you.

♔ NAME: KAY CORREY ♔ AGE: FIFTEEN YEARS ♔ FC: BEATRICE MILLER ♔

Amelia would swear that Kay’s sole purpose in life was to give her Hell... and she was doing a dang good job at fulfilling it. She was a magnet for trouble, as far from ‘ladylike’ as a girl could be, with a temper that could put the average person to shame. She was full of excuses for all of her actions, refusing to take responsibility no matter the situation. Someone else was always to blame. It wasn’t her fault she stomped that kid’s foot. She wouldn’t have, if he hadn’t mouthed off at her. She wouldn’t have ran into that teacher if she hadn’t stepped in front of the skateboard. She wouldn’t have skipped class during exam week if the waves weren’t calling out to her. That didn’t stop the lectures from coming. Fortunately, Kay was left in her grandfather’s care often, and he would only bail her out of trouble with a laugh. Amelia was a well known and extremely talented makeup artist, there was a lot of travelling involved for work, and Fred would convince her to leave the kids with him while she was away. He loved both of them but it was no secret he had a soft spot for his granddaughter. The collateral damage she always managed to leave in her path just made life more exciting. As a child she was always glued to his side and since he was better at dishing out candy and trips to the beach than punishments or lectures, some could say he was to blame for the way she turned out.

Not that there was anything wrong with the way she turned out. She had a backbone. She knew how to handle herself, even if she wasn’t the most mature child in the world. She wasn’t very nice but she had a heart of gold. She was good at anything she put her mind to. Though much to her mother’s dismay, the things she put her mind to usually weren’t the safest. She was part time skater, part time surfer, pulling impressive tricks for her age... but she’d lost track counting the amount of injuries she’d gotten to get to this point. She refused to give up and in most cases that was a good thing, but not when it meant putting her life on the line to perfect the barrel roll. They’d always butted heads but as time went on, Kay and Amelia’s relationship grew more and more strained. Amelia felt like she defied against all of the rules she gave her, which made her scold her. Kay felt like she scolded her for everything she did, which made her defy the rules more. It was a never ending cycle and neither of them were making a move to fix it. It didn’t help that her mother seemed to be gone more than there. It’s gotten to the point that she doesn’t feel like she can tell her anything. Though she knows it’s ridiculous and underneath all of the nitpicking there is genuine love and care for her well being, a part of her fears that if Amelia finds out her daughter likes girls, that will be the last straw. And while she’s not ashamed of herself in the least, she’s not looking to be disowned either.

PERSONALITY TRAITS:

+ daring, spirited, unruffled - disobedient, loud, rude

RECENTLY PLAYED SONGS:

California Girls — Beach Boys

Runaway — Andrew Watt

Guerrilla Radio — Rage Against The Machine

♔ NAME: DOROTHY ADDISON ♔ AGE: 19 YEARS ♔ FC: GRACE PHIPPS ♔

For anyone that knew Darla it wouldn’t be hard to believe that she found herself dealing with an unplanned baby at a young age, the product out of a one night stand. It would be hard to believe that baby turned into Dorothy Addison. Sweet as could be, the girl could practically give someone a toothache by saying hello. From the moment she took that pregnancy test there wasn’t even half a second that Darla regretted her choices or considered another future for herself. Becoming a mother was the first very big step to maturing. She swore that she would never leave her little girl the way her father had left her, and having a child of her own was what it took to finally understand and forgive the things that Eeyore had done while raising her and her siblings. Eeyore who was, by the way, one of Dorothy’s favorite people. Every time she was around her grandmother she would tell her the most exciting, adventurous stories about her childhood and the dragons she’d slayed. They all turned out to be pretend dragons, that she learned as she grew older, but she still thought her grandma had to be the most interesting person she’d ever met. Though she’d had a deep love for fiction before that. She’d been told by her mother that she struggled with severe colic as a baby and stories were the only thing that could soothe her. She would shush her sobbing immediately and her big blue eyes would focus on her Darla’s as if she was hanging onto and understanding every word she said, and she wouldn’t shed another tear until she stopped speaking.

That was something that Dorothy never grew out of. The deep interest that is, not the colic. She lived and breathed literature. She’d tried to write once or twice before, but she wasn’t creative enough to finish a whole novel so she spent her money on the ones that had already been done instead. Her favorite place to go was used bookstores where she could thumb through the old pages and fall in love with the same sentences someone else had. She could be found more often than not sitting alone with her nose in one of her books, completely engulfed in a different world. She had big dreams of being swept away in a romance just like the girls she would read about, discovering herself the way they did, becoming a part of a friend group that felt like family and getting her happy ending. She’d heard a few times that she needed to put her books down and go have fun, but she didn’t mind. To her this was having fun. Unlike Darla had been at her age, she wasn’t one to find entertainment in parties or drinking or hooking up with strangers. Lately she’s been wondering though, after graduating high school and realizing that it was all just a complete blur, if maybe everyone else is onto something. Just a little bit. Is she so focused on other characters’ lives that she’s been neglecting to live her own?

PERSONALITY TRAITS:

+ composed, eloquent, intelligent - distrait, shy, starry-eyed

RECENTLY PLAYED SONGS:

Me & Bobby McGee — Janis Joplin

Strawberry Wine — Deana Carter

Son Of A Preacher Man — Dusty Springfield

♔ NAME: REMUS ROGERS ♔ AGE: 37 YEARS ♔ FC: JAY HERNANDEZ ♔

There was a brief point in time where it seemed like Remus had really gotten himself straightened out. He’d focused harder on school, gotten sober, tried harder to be there for the people that he cared about. He did everything he could to turn his life around and he’d done such a good job that he’d made himself proud. It wasn’t easy but he’d gotten there. Somehow along the way he’d managed to win Allison’s heart, and he swore to himself that one day he would marry that girl. Along with his family she became the number one reason to do his best and be his best. He never expected her to end up pregnant. They were young and they weren’t prepared but he wasn’t disappointed in the idea of welcoming a baby into their lives. If anything he was excited. For the first time he was dealing with a sudden change that wasn’t a bad thing. He was going to stay by Allison’s side whenever she needed him there. He was going to drive to the store every night to satisfy her bizarre cravings. He was going to go with her to all of the doctor appointments. He was going to hold her hair back during morning sickness and come up with baby names and make sure she got enough rest and go through color swatches for the nursery for weeks or however long it took until she was one hundred percent happy. He was going to be there for her the way she always had been there for him him and he was going to be best damn father he could be to their child. Except, he wasn’t.

He wasn’t a father at all.

When the fear set in, it hit him all at once. Remus probably should have known he would freak out at some point, being who he was he probably should have talked to someone about it, but he had been too happy to see it coming. Unfortunately just like his childhood fear he’d grown up looking a lot like his biological dad, and the thought of actually being a dad made him wonder if he would be like him too. He woke up one night, got to thinking, got to panicking, and the next thing he knew he was on a one way flight to Minnesota with nothing more than two hundred bucks and a picture of Allison in his wallet. He was taking himself out of the equation, even if it made him miserable. He refused to hurt his child the way he’d been hurt. He realized a little too late that he’d done just that. For a year he didn’t contact anyone he knew. He was too ashamed and too angry with himself, and the more time that went on it became more obvious that he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t expect another second chance from Allison. She had a lot of family to look after her and the kid. They would be better off without him. He truly believed that.

During that time, being so alone and so broken up about his own choices, it took all of his self control to not pick up the bottle again. But he managed to stay sober. If not for himself, for the people that loved him and he had already damaged enough. He spent the rest of the next twenty years going from place to place, picking up and dropping odd jobs, occasionally checking in with family and friends but never staying long enough to answer many questions or ask any of his own. He didn’t want to know all of the things he’d missed out on his daughter’s entire childhood and her teen years. He couldn’t bear it. He already knew that he’d missed out on being there with Allison. And, God, did he miss her. He unfolded her picture every night, looking at it and telling himself that she was better now, that she was probably remarried and the three of them were a happy family, maybe with even more kids, and that both kept him going and kept him away. He wanted to talk to her again so bad he could hardly stand it. But everyone had a limit on forgiveness and he didn’t deserve hers. He didn’t the first time and he certainly didn’t now. He wasn’t going to crash into her life and screw it up all over again. He’d hurt her enough.

But he was tired of running. So he went back to Coolsville, he bought a house close to the one his parents had brought him into so many years ago, and he decided to settle down there. If Allison or his child ever did want to find him, to scream at him or demand an apology, they wouldn’t have to look too hard. That was what he was basically asking for. But if they wanted him out of their lives for good, that was exactly where he would stay.

PERSONALITY TRAITS:

+ friendly, fun, mature - isolated, regretful, sarcastic

RECENTLY PLAYED SONGS:

Missing You — All Time Low

1985 — Bowling For Soup

♔ NAME: JUDE PASCAL ♔ AGE: SEVENTEEN YEARS ♔ FC: KEHLANI ♔

Ely, Jude and Myran found each other by chance. Thrown into the same foster home within months of each other, at a time when they could all use someone, they’d became fast friends. Despite their very different personalities they had somehow managed to create a bond that could not be broken -- even if they were no longer together. Before they’d gotten split up the three of them had made a pact that they would not get adopted without the others, and Jude was especially adamant about staying true to that. When Torin took her and Myran in, it felt perfect. Almost. She loved her new family, she’d gotten attached immediately, but she refused to be welcomed into their home officially until Ely was there as well. He was the missing piece. He needed them just as badly as they needed him. For years she begged and pleaded with her mother-to-be to find him, and she did all that she could. She contacted social workers, she searched the internet for him, she even looked out of country in hopes that he would pop up. And just as the little girl was starting to believe that it was never going to happen, Torin walked through the door with Ely by her side. She’d never felt as much happiness as she had in that moment. Shortly after the three of them stayed true to their deal they’d made, taking the same last name so that no one could ever separate them again.

It would be almost impossible to believe how happy Jude is if you walked in her room. With dark posters hanging everywhere, voodoo dolls on her bed and all things witch related scattered among her shelves, her personality doesn’t match up with her interests at all. She’s intrigued by all things horror and supernatural, trying to convince anyone she can to speak to the dead with her on one of her many Ouija boards that Myran rolls his eyes at and and Ely fears she’s going to haunt the house with. She’s believes wholeheartedly in black magic and all things paranormal. She would love to be a fortune teller too, if she could ever figure it out. She can pick up on someone else’s emotions very well, something she has to try to avoid doing so she won’t bum herself out or panic at the mixture of feelings in large crowds. Every now and then casual comments about tragedy and death will fall from her lips, often taking others that don’t know her well by surprise. She’s so bubbly that it’s hard to believe her mind is filled with such frightening and gory thoughts at all times. But just as the first impression she gives off, the girl doesn’t have a mean bone in her body and she would do anything for anyone. Just don’t mess with her siblings or her mama and she won’t craft a voodoo doll after you. 

PERSONALITY TRAITS:

+ energetic, loyal, nurturing - empathic, morbid, overprotective

RECENTLY PLAYED SONGS:

Cruel World — Lana Del Rey 

Kill For You — Skylar Grey

The Hanging Tree — James Newton Howard ft. Jennifer Lawrence

♔ NAME: PARIS EVERWOOD ♔ AGE: 21 YEARS ♔ FC: PAULINA SINGER ♔

Sight-seeing was all that Paris knew. Homeschooled from kindergarten up, she never stayed in one place too long. She was brought into the world by a single mother that never cared very much about love but wanted a child. The two of them were quite the pair, they’d been all over the globe by the time Paris was only a few years old and if you asked her, even with the lack of friends and consistency, her childhood could not have been better. They saw so many places, tried so many new things, met so many people, most of them they would lose contact with over time, the only exception being Farrah Everwood. She’d befriended her mother – or her mother had taken the girl under her wing – after meeting her in the airport and sharing their mutual love for travelling. They were heading to the same place. One thing lead to another and the three of them ended up traveling together for a solid year and a half before they went their separate ways. But despite the distance they were never out of touch. They would make summer plans to go on a road trip to Colorado or meet up in Greece when the other woman had no plans. Farrah even invited them over to spend Christmas with her family one year. Life was perfect. Then, in a cruel twist of fate, Paris’ mother fell ill.

She would never let her daughter see just how sick she was, but it wasn’t hard to catch on. They slowed down on their travelling, stayed in one place too long. Nurses would come by the house to see her. She had to take medicine every morning and she looked tired, even if she slept twelve hours. It was hard to sit by and watch her mother be sick and in pain, to watch her waste away to nothing. It was something she observed from the time she was eight until shortly after her tenth birthday when her mother lost her battle. It was devastating, and it obviously rocked her world. Paris had lost her best friend, and all along she’d had hope that she would get through, she would come out on top. She was someone that had too much fight in her to be gone. It was a rude awakening that she wasn’t sure how to handle. But she didn’t leave her daughter scared and alone. She’d instilled a bravery in her child that she knew would carry her through her future without her and she’d made arrangements for her to be in a safe place, surrounded by love, where she could be raised in a way that was familiar to her. The day that Farrah showed up to collect her, Paris felt for the first time in two years that everything was going to be okay.

Farrah could never replace her mother, but she never tried. She never had the intention to do that. She was more like a fun aunt, that was the way Paris always seen her and Farrah was okay with that. With the money that her mother had left behind, they were able to live comfortably while visiting different places the way that she was used to. It was different, and she oftentimes missed the life she used to have, but she wasn’t one to dwell on the past. She was fifteen years old before she’d referred to Farrah as her mom for the first time. The word slipped out of her lips and it had startled both of them. Somehow she didn’t feel like she’d betrayed her mother the way she feared she would. After that there was a mutual understanding between the two of them – her mother would always be mum, but Farrah had became mama. With the lessons that she’d learned and the help of the two women that raised her, she turned into the kind but feisty teenager that no one would have doubted she’d be. After graduating she skipped the first two years of college to travel abroad for two more years, hoping to find a bit more of herself before deciding on a career path. Somehow her trip ended with her in California, staring at a pamphlet for the high school Farrah had went to and before she knew it she was enrolling to the college, ready for the first time in her life to settle, even if just for four years.

PERSONALITY TRAITS:

+ carefree, ebullient, uncontrollable - dominating, indecisive, irreverent 

RECENTLY PLAYED SONGS:

Ironic — Alanis Morissette

Stay (I Missed You) — Lisa Loeb

Bitch — Meredith Brooks