VALENTINE, mercy may [example]

[mercy valentine]

Basics
o o c n a m e
mimzz

r p i n g t i m e
3 years, 4 in august

o t h e r c h a r a c t e r s
none


D r o w n i n g In A Sea Of V o d k a

filip, becky lou

f u l l n a m e
Mercy May Valentine; Murry, mercy, may

g e n d e r
gal

a g e & g r a d e
17 & junior

s e x u a l i t y
bisexual


p e r s o n a l i t y
There are several ways to describe Ms. Valentine, although none of them would be accurate, none could do her justice. Simply put she is like no one else, a chaotic mix of things commonness that some how blends within her to create something spectacular, something unique, different. However she wouldn't believe you if you told her, she'd simply blush and turn her head away in nervous embarrassment. Mercy is a kind soul masked in a frightened little shell, terrified of coming out as well as staying in, but figuring it's far more easier to stay with drawn. Once she was a happy, health, crazy, spontaneous girl, though that was many years ago and many things have happened since those days. There is some speculation that there still might be that Mercy hidden deep inside, the glimpses caught in her shy smile, or that little sparkle in her eye she gets when she knows she's doing something she shouldn't. A dare devil wild child by nature, but a conservative reserved girl by nurture.

She's unique, never doing things the easy way, preferring to take the path less traveled yet another sign of the person hiding within. She is stubborn, never giving up even in the most difficult things, loving to defy the laws of science or even just prove a brother wrong. A sweetie with an overly apparent shy side, her speech remaining soft, quiet, her words always chosen carefully a side effect of a mother who couldn't stand for 'back talk' or improper language. For Mercy it takes a long time to get to know someone because she's afraid that if she takes the time to know someone she might find she actually likes them which will make it even harder for her when she has to leave them, in her mind an inevitable fact. Even if she is on 'death watch' from the school as well as her brothers and their friends she still is convinced that one day she'll do herself in and leave this miserable world forever, a vacation with no end, a release from the flesh and blood she is bound to.

Mercy is not one to show emotion other then embarrassment, excitement, or fake happiness. True feelings are bottled up and sealed away for night time ventures when sleep wont come and she has nothing to do. They are saved for the times she dares to unlock the vault of unthinkable thoughts, the times when she can't take it anymore. It is relatively easy to say she is depressed, but that doesn't mean she's anti social. Nope in fact Mercy is some what a social butterfly believe it or not, despite all her little flaws she is drawn to people and most of the time they seem just as drawn to her. She wont talk fluently with a new acquaintance, but if she knows the person it's rare that you can get her to shut up, always loving being immersed in conversation. Actually her favorite memories in the world are the few times she remembers actually being happy, they were times spent falling asleep to the sounds of her brothers and her friends taking, blissful moments when she wasn't alone, wasn't being hurt, couldn't feel the pain the lay deep down inside. All in all Mercy is an odd one, but most wouldn't have it any other way, a slightly lush with a good heart, and if she lets you in even the slightest bit a life saver, a life changer. She is Ms. Mercy May Valentine.

l i k e s

• drawing
  
• photography
  
• music
  
• singing
  
• drums
  
• violin
  
• guitar
  
• piano
  
• flute
  
• trumpet
  
• saxophone
  
• writing
  
• reading
  
• silly things
  
• quiet
  
• shiny things
  
• animals
  
• having fun
  
• alcohol
  
• partying
  
• dancing
  
• her brothers
  
• her friends
  
• gir!
  
• hello kitty
  
• skelanimals
  
• stuffed animals
  
• pillows
  
• wood floors
  
• Ivy Town
  
• St. Jude's
  
• rain
  
• snow
  
• cold
  
• anime
  
• poker
  
• crayons
  
• fruit
  
• water

d i s l i k e s

• warmth
  
• arrogance
  
• snobs
  
• frilly thing
  
• talking too much
  
• dishonesty
  
• vehicles
  
• soda water
  
• lemonade
  
• feelings
  
• orange juice
  
• most sour/tart things
  
• sobriety
  
• drugs
  
• crowds
  
• her past
  
• her mother
  
• commas
  
• panic attacks
  
• fear
  
• weakness
  
• Alstierre
  
• sports
  
• running
  
• computers
  
• cell phones
  
• chinchillas
  
• picahchu
  
• clowns
  
• dust
  
• flowers

s t r e n g t h s & W e a k n e s s

• Drawing & Photography
  Murry taught herself everything she knows, taking to drawing & photography with tremendous ability. It's been the only stable thing in her life, the only appropriate thing she's turned to when she feels like she's going to explode or like the world is crashing down on her.
  
  
• Music
  Mercy is a brilliant musician, playing the drums, flute, saxophone, guitar, piano, trumpet, & violin. She also sings pretty well. However her musical talents are kept to herself, more of a hobby a comfort than anything else.
  
  
• Trust
  Murry doesn't trust it's something she just can't bring herself to do, not after all that's happened. Occasionally, very very rarely she'll give people a little bit of trust but to gain her trust fully is so far proven to be impossible.
  
  
• Crowds
  Crowds are a big issue for Mercy, she has a tendency to get a bit scared, which eventually ends up in a panic attack. You see she kind of afraid of most people a problem she's working through with time and medication, she also is now able to be in small crowds for a short period of time without freaking out. This is part of the reason why she doesn't like the city of Alstierre.

f e a r s & a d d i c t i o n s

• Sleeping
  Mercy is pretty much terrified of sleeping due to the fact that A) she stops breathing, B)she simply can't, & C)she has night terrors which usually don't end up too well. Most of the time she passes out after a week of staying up consistently, she ends up waking up a day or so later in the nurses station being monitored. It's always fun. . .
  
  
• Death of friend/relative
  The thing she fears more then anything in the world would be the death of one of her brothers or one of her friends. After the death of most of her family, she doesn't have the mental stability to deal with yet another loss.
  
  
• Alcohol
  she is a sucker for alcohol, she'll pretty much drink anything, you might call her a slight lush.
  
  
• Cutting
  Some may not consider it an addiction but it is. You see she yernes for that feeling, that indescribable high when you slice flesh, all the decisions in your hands, whether or not to go just a little deeper. Mercy has been a cutter since she was twelve and since then every difficult even has been dealt with via the blade. It's an emotional outlet she can't let go of.

f a m i l y
mother||Rose Anne Baker||deceased at age 35
father||Frank John Valentine||deceased at age 46
step mother||Angela Marie Valentine||deceased at age 40
half brother||___ ___ Valentine||19/senior
twin brother||___ ___ Valentine||17/junior
step sister||Sasha Danica Kaltin||deceased at age 12
half sister||Calista Trix Valentine||deceased at age 4
half brother||Andrew Kalvin Valentine||deceased at age 1



p e t s
cheese, muscle, & peewee
painted sun turtles, formerly owned by her little siblings

h i s t o r y
White houses with blue shutters and a red door, perfectly aligned white picket fences, an obedient dog to get the paper, three perfect children; two boys and a girl all three years apart, green laws mowed into submission, home made apple pie, the perfect life, the American dream, or so they say. The American dream for Mercy as a child was a cheese burger and her father, both she didn't get. Her parents had never been together her and her brother a product of an unfaithful man, a married man as it so happens an already father. Frank Valentine was promptly divorced by his wife, his young son taken away from him, now that could be expected, a wise choice on his part considering he was most definitely not cut out to be a single father or the type of husband his former wife needed him to be so all in all it was the right thing. However he made one huge mistake; marrying Ms. Rose Baker. Mercy and her brother were born, nearly three months early mind you oh and not to mention they were addicted to drugs courtesy of their wonderful mother. Well Mr. Valentine had enough of the crying, screaming infants suffering from withdrawals, he was out of there within the first week a divorce going through quickly.

Now some think that abuse and mistreatment comes all of a sudden, a maybe for a semi sane abuser it does, but when it comes to the mentally ill it's gradual. At first it started with little pinches and taps leaving no more then a scratch or two. However as Mercy & her brother grew their mother's mind weakened, drugs & alcohol becoming more and more necessary in greater amounts. By age six their mother had escalated to fists. Living in New York on the poorest side of town as it gets the teachers never got too concerned about her or her brother, despite the bruises and lack of hygiene care. By age nine Mercy & her brother were pretty much on their own, their mother leaving for days, sometimes weeks at a time on regular drug binges. Age eleven they were on the streets by themselves searching dumpsters for food, clothing, everything. However her twelfth year was the worst as well as the best. Their mother took a downward spiral and decided to take her children with her, the beating became even worse, the drugs now forced upon them to watch them suffer, dear old mom not wanting to be alone. Then Rose began to bring home 'uncles'.

By far 'Uncle' Jo was the worst, a foul, hideous drug dealer with his eyes set on both little boys and little girls, however Mercy was his favorite 'toy'. That's when Mercy started to with draw from the world, started drinking far more heavily than ever. Many times her mother and her friends found it fun to force a needle into her arm, shoot her up and watch her fall. This is also around the time she started cutting far more then any little girl had the right to, her brother on the other hand took to the drugs forced upon him far too well, he even took to selling it, said it was to get them out of there, well until their mother got a hold of this knowledge and decided she needed a fix more then they needed to get out. That's when everything went wrong.

One night, well rather morning 'uncle' Jo came over pissed beyond belief due to the fact that their mother hadn't paid him. Well their mother wasn't home so instead he decided he'd take it out on the twins in a different way. He went for Mercy first, but ___ got in the way trying to protect his sister however that didn't go over too well with Jo. ___ was down with one furious fist and from there he was kicked until he began spitting blood, blacking out at the very end. Needless to say Jo got what he wanted from Mercy deciding to finish the twelve year old off, taking a bat and beating her until he thought she was dead. ___ woke up to see Mercy a bloody mess, unmoving, he immediately went to her grabbing the shallow breathing Mercy and huddling into a corner, the only thing either of them could do was cry. A neighbor called 911 after coming into the apartment to see what had happened. The twins were taken to the hospital and treated, Mercy going into a coma for two weeks spending the majority of a month and a half in intensive care suffering from broken ribs, internal bleeding, and various other injuries. They were three days away from their thirteenth birthday when they met their father.

The next three years or so were spent with their father and half siblings as well as their step mother and step sister, this is when they met their older brother ___. The three became the best of friends pretty quickly, hanging out, having fun, both her brothers trying to get her out of her shell, well they accomplished that, however only for them, no one else. Age 16 saw the death of her father, step mother, and three little step siblings. the trio had gone to a friends house for the day while the rest of the family went to go visit their step mother's parents. They got the call when they didn't come home for three days, needless to say Mercy was devastated, she took it out on herself attempting suicide, ___ took to drugs and attempting an overdose, it seemed only the oldest ___ was the stable one. ___ went to rehab while Mercy & ___ were sent here, each relying on each other greatly, consoling one another, being siblings. ___ came to the school a few months later and was pissed as ever at ___ taking out his feelings on him. Well in the midst of all this Mercy finds herself torn due to the fact she has found herself crushing greatly on her oldest brother's best friend, the first and really only person she's ever seen that way and quite frankly she's scared nuts less. . .

o t h e r
she spends a lot of time in the barn taking care of some of the pmu foals and in Ivy town partying or just walking around. Also she suffers from panic attacks, sleep apnea, insomnia, & night terrors.

t h e s e c r e t w o r d
admin

S a m p l e P o s t

Black locks were curled and fashioned in a way of simplicity, ebony hue contrasting greatly against her snow like complexion. The look was only matched by the startlingly pallid blue orbs which mirrored all she set them upon, somehow sights within the placid pools, where they became lost, as if she had never seen them at all. Her apparel was far to average for her cherub face, the layers drowning out her picture esq frame, making her simpler. Plainer. More mortal like. The apron around her waist seeming out of place, looking as if she were ready to cook or clean. The chiseled features beautiful but solid, giving a sturdy, meaning look to her face. The edges of her soft pale red lips twinged slightly at the sight, parting and stretching into a grin so glorious it would melt a glacier at first glance. The merciless cries brought a seeming glow to her face, brightening her, cheeks burning slightly flush, the youth of the new born rejuvenating her at it's very glimpse. The child was wrapped quickly, saving it's bare flesh from frost of an open window. A hand reached upward and palm opened, lips were puckered and brought to the flesh upon her open hand. Air escaped her warmly, masking as a draft, slamming the shutters shut, hiding the newly born child from the frost that lurked just out of reach. The babe was swaddled in it's mother's arms, the woman's worn looking youthful face far too warm and delightful to match the ghastly appearance the act of child birth had given her. It brought cheer to the goddess Emminay to see the new kindred spirits happy, the new human's sobs ceasing slowly. Hurriedly the goddess approached the dieing fire a quick gesture bringing back to life the further lighten the room and scare the chill from the families back. The new mother was unaware of the goddess smiling down upon them, unaware of the way Emminay admired the babe's fair hair, even though the amount of the stuff was little and barely visible. The new mother was unknowing of how the figure wanted to reach out and cradle the wrinkled weeping bundle in her arms. The woman was so unaware of the goddess blessing the new born as it entered this earth, how she watched to ensure that both remained safe as the infant and mother both experienced a thing that could not compare to any other event.

The unseen Deity approached the bed side slowly, watching the child and mother as they bonded over words unspoken, it was a rare event that she descended to witness a birth. It was a special cause however, this babe had a plan set for him, he had a journey like know other, and so he was blessed by the goddess, a thing most welcoming, a thing of safe passage and best wishes. After he would descend into manhood she no longer would have a staked claim on him for no longer would her be in her charge, so her blessing was all that she could give. She reached the bedside and admired the child, her arm extended, hovering over the child afraid to touch the babe in fear of harming him. Instead she extended a finger and wiped away a stray tear snapping her hand back in a movement far to quick, no mortal would have noticed as she consumed the tear, her action far too quick as well as ridiculous, the salty liquid staling her mouth. A murmur was heard from the child in reflex to the goddess' touch, a finger crossed her lips and a faint hush sound escaped her, the sound warm and melodic, like a summer breeze taking shape as a lullaby. The infant slept on, but now Emminay's placid pools were centered on the child's mother. The young thing was weak, fragile, breakable, breaking her life thread with every breathe. Unfortunately the woman's fate had been sealed with the child's conception, now there was but one order to be carried out. A midwife rushed to the bedside stealing the babe away to it's crib, fixing a concoction for the woman in hopes of making her well once more. The unseen goddess smiled warmly at the new mother, her gaze intent and dreading of what she had to do. A pale hand brushed back the eschew hair upon the new mother's brow, pale red lips pressing icily upon the womans skin, a single tear escaping the goddess' left eye. The hand moved passed the fore head to her ear pulling back the hair "'tis your time Lenia" the Deity whispered faintly the wind carrying it finalizing the woman's fate. Emminay turned quickly and approached the midwife catching her from the back and whispering in her ear "go to your charge" the mid wife did just in time for the woman's heart to ware out and fade to nothing. The goddess had not been heard, but a Deity's will be done, and as the goddess of women and of the birth of life her unheard words were more then enough to force bidding to be done.

The child went into up roar when the heart beat of his mother, his life giver, ceased. The bond severed abruptly, a bond that had been formed but newly remained strong none the less, that is until the youthful, lifeless woman took her end with her far beyond the nile of the dead into the deathly hollows where she would now call home. The goddess watched as the midwife scurried over to tend to the child, the only thing left of the corpse on the bed. Emminay turned her back on the seen walking back to the shadows to disappear once more unto her home, the words falling from her mouth obscure and odd

By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an Eidolon, named Night,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have reached these lands but newly
From an ultimate dim Thule —
From a wild weird clime, that lieth, sublime,
Out of Space — out of Time.

They made no sense. Or did they?

poem credit to EA Poe's Dream-land, first part