danse macabre.

the basics

FULL NAME. leah rose wallis. NICKNAMES. lee. AGE. twenty two. DATE OF BIRTH. january 15. HOMETOWN. misty hill, west virginia. CURRENT LOCATION. ??? SEX. female. PRONOUNS. she/her. ORIENTATION. asexual biromantic. RELIGION. none. OCCUPATION. job jumper. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN. english, basics of portuguese. ACCENT.  light southern us accent.

physical appearance

FACE CLAIM. kacey rohl & emily kinney. HAIR COLOUR. naturally brown, dyed blonde. EYE COLOUR. blue. HEIGHT. 5′5′’. BUILD. skinny. TATTOOS. none. CLOTHING STYLE. sweaters, scarfs, jeans, vans.

health

PHYSICAL AILMENTS. none. MENTAL AILMENTS. schizophrenia. ALLERGIES. none. SLEEPING HABITS. she rarely ever gets some sleep, but when she finally manages to rest a little, it’s lying on her stomach or curled in a ball. may fall asleep in unusual places depending on the occasion. EATING HABITS. doesn’t eat much, only when too hungry. EXERCISE HABITS. none. SOCIABILITY. mostly an introvert but it hasn’t always been like this. BODY TEMPERATURE. a normal human temperature. ADDICTIONS. none. DRUG USE. smoked in the past. ALCOHOL USE. sometimes.

personality

LABEL. the survivor. POSITIVE TRAITS. smart, protective, friendly. NEGATIVE TRAITS. distrustful, unstable, nosy. GOALS/DESIRES. find inner peace and truly open herself to someone one day. FEARS. being backstabbed by people she trusts. HOBBIES. watching movies, listening to music, reading, gardening. HABITS. chewing lips, picking at skin, jaw clenching.

favorites

WEATHER. cold, snowy. COLOUR. blue. MUSIC. classic rock.   MOVIES. dramas, especially those related to memories (memory manipulation, amnesia etc) & time (time travel, butterfly effect etc). BEVERAGE. hot chocolate. FOOD. waffles.  ANIMAL. cats. 

family

Unconsciously, Will’s shoulders hunkered over, almost as an attempt to physically shield himself from her words. “I wish I could relate,” he mumbled. “I very much wish there were people I could call home…but I can’t. I don’t.” He shrugged, keeping his jaded gaze directed toward the horizon. These days, he lived in his memory palace. Inside the dark, distant chambers of his mind, he could speak with anyone: Abigail Hobbs, Beverly Katz, Georgia Madchen, and sometimes even Hannibal Lecter. The man was dead to him, so he treated his memory akin to a lost soul.

Absently rubbing the back of her neck, Will asked her, “Where do you intend to go? Living on your own isn’t as easy as the movies lead you to believe.” It wasn’t his intention to scare her, but he didn’t know of her financial situation.

Leah heard Will's answer with devoted attention. As he spoke, she wished she could somehow make him feel better. He looked so sad talking about that subject that she suddenly regretted bringing it up. The familiarity she'd felt at first when he approached her on the porch began to feel like what it actually was: false. Will was nothing familiar, he was nothing like anyone else she'd ever met.

In response to his question, Leah shrugged nonchalantly, “Away. That'd be a good start. An’ I know it ain't easy but... I gotta leave this place. Someday.” Her icy-blue eyes then widened upon the discovery that Will's father was a mechanic. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips once again, and she felt very silly for getting enthusiastic over such a trivial thing. “My dad was a mechanic, too! He told me he wanted ta be a rockstar but apparently it didn't work.” Too much information, she thought. Nobody cares, Leah. She bit her lower lip before spitting out any other useless detail.