Jul 1, 2019 23:15:09 GMT -6
june t. nguyen rebel rebel, you've torn your dress (rebel rebel, your face is a mess) general info
appearance june ha black hair, brown eyes, and relatively pale skin. for the most part, she looks her age: except for her uncannily smooth, acne-free skin, and her height (standing at 5'0 / 152.4cm). she has pierced ears, keeps her hair well-brushed and sleek, and wears a ambiguously floral perfume that she selected specifically to match with her peach-scented shampoo. she gravitates towards a highly feminine style of fashion when she plans on meeting company, and likes a-line skirts and sundresses in particular. personality
abilities wing manifestation: dark gray. she's capable of controlling them, mostly, but when she's feeling particularly emotional (such as when she's suddenly startled), they react accordingly - whether that means spreading themselves out to full size or making little jumps of their own. weather manipulation: her capability with weather manipulation is limited, and she doesn't have much success or power when it comes to this ability and causing damage or destruction at all, even when upset. in fact, the worst weather she's been able to conjure has been a light sprinkling of rain. however, whenever she's particularly happy, she's extremely talented at creating good weather. that means clear skies, a cool breeze, warm sunlight...the type of weather travel resorts always promise they have. her control over this ability is almost nonexistent. teleportation: while june's capable of teleportation with a high degree of accuracy and only a mild amount of concentration, she experiences high levels of nausea while using teleportation alongside headaches and dizziness. that's why she prefers not to use this power, despite her knack for it. curse/charm breaking: june technically could break curses/charms, but she has no idea how to, and has never encountered either one. currently a complete beginner. future sight: june's only capable of seeing things about a handful of seconds before they occur, and she has no control over what she views. it's like seeing a cup break while it's already falling - and perhaps it isn't even her cup. most of june's visions have been horrifyingly mundane - someone putting down a newspaper, eating a piece of toast, etcetera. she only gets them so often - maybe once a year. healing: june's talents really lie in healing, which is probably her most-used power. she's capable of healing many serious wounds rapidly, but because of her age, it's taxing on her physically and she quickly grows tired. however, small wounds and superficial scratches are healed without her even thinking about it. backstory IN THE END, june nguyen will recall her first years fondly. well, she might not seem to recall them fondly, but i assure you she will. she will look on her true-youth with a wry smile and say, oh, those wistful-golden teenage summer days! right after a sigh, except perhaps not with those words exactly. but june does like poetry (when it’s about her) and she does hate growing up (which is why i suspect she will eventually stop), and she will wrap her wings around herself and perhaps allow herself a moment of nostalgia. but that is in the end, and this is the now, and i at least know which one june-and-i prefer. AND AS OF NOW, june lives with her parents at home. she spends approximately 4.5% of her day daydreaming (which doesn’t sound like a lot, but that’s just a little bit over an hour) about true love. her ideal partner is at least 5’7, dark-haired, and magnificently brooding. she doesn’t mind overmuch if they have a terribly tragic backstory, but she would prefer it if they were well-adjusted. her mother is currently despairing about how june has fallen into the habit of stealing clothes from her father and wearing only a tucked-in oversized t-shirt and jeans, rather than any of her own clothes. she is both startlingly ordinary and extraordinarily fortunate, and - by the by - she’s taken up gossiping. it’s become so much of a talent that it’s crossed the mind of a select few that if gossiping were an occupation, june would be regarded as a well-known, well-certified professional in it. AS OF ABOUT LAST YEAR, june has come to a conclusion. what type of conclusion is unclear to all but june, because she staunchly refuses to reveal the contents of her epiphany to anyone, but it seems to be important to her (and is thus being recorded). she is absorbed in the world of cosmetics and makeups and appearances, and concocts a convoluted twenty-five minute daily skincare routine that works better than it ever ought to. (and in case you were curious about bao, she regretfully changed schools. june comes about this close to writing her an anonymous love letter, but she wasn’t able to do it before, and, well, what makes you think she could now?) it’s a nice distraction from everything, because everything-is-going-to-shit, so she keeps it up until her skin glows dewy and fresh and inhumanly smooth. also, peonies are her favorite flower now. AS OF ABOUT TWO YEARS AGO, june has her second crush. the girl is named bao, and june spends half as much time virulently despising her as she does daydreaming about kissing her and holding hands. bao mildly dislikes june; they don’t really get along. but bao is beautiful and they share two classes together, and june is this close to imploding as she memorizes different ways to solve quadratic equations in mathematics as bao tucks a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. (june makes the honor roll again.) june will think about asking bao out over two hundred times this year, but she will do it exactly zero times. during this school year, june will also witness some of her closest friends getting into relationships that she disapproves of, but doesn’t care that much about. she will get into two hundred sixty-six arguments with her parents, which is not really a lot for a teenager. (really, can we get a commendation on that?) AS OF ABOUT THREE YEARS AGO, june will start having trouble falling asleep. this does not mean that she has trouble sleeping, because she’s really quite deep of a sleeper, and only is roused when she senses there’s trouble or there’s an evacuation or her father’s stumbling out of bed and into work because he was called at the hospital or something (and that happens more-and-more every day, something she can’t help but realize). june is someone who finds comfort in willful ignorance, because she trusts-and-loves the older people around her, and she thinks-and-believes that, intrinsically, the people around her are really trying to make a better world for her and those-who-come-next and those-who-will-stay. but what used to be the background noise of whispers and worries that her parents exchange downstairs that june can hear the seem like warning signs, and she stares up at the ceiling and thinks of hurt-and-dying and wonders what she will do, because most people at least have spent their time here and alive, like her mother-and-father, and they’ve spent time being who they are. but june and so many others are still young-and-small, and the world is changing, and what type of world will be left for them to build their inheritances in? this is my world, she thinks, quiet and small and fiercely afraid-and-possessive, and then - she falls asleep, of course, because she isn’t having that much trouble sleeping, are you serious? she’s very fond of sleep, and no ridiculous contemplation straight out of a children’s book will stop her from getting her beauty rest. AS OF ABOUT FOUR YEARS AGO, june receives her first love note. she is in middle school, and there’s an valentines’ day event, where you can send your friends an overpriced mini-candy cane about the size of your pinky and a flimsy paper note attached (the candy canes are broken more often than not). her former elementary school classmate, nathan j., has sent her one. it says, roses are red / violets are blue / i have feelings / they are all for you. june reads it, eats the candy cane, and then ignores the existence of the note for the rest of the year. she lands on the honor roll, and promises to text her friends over the summer. her parents buy her a cute bear-patterned water bottle that she still carries around today. AS OF ABOUT FIVE YEARS AGO, june encounters miss haptenburg. miss haptenburg’s a very sweet woman generally, and half of june’s class adores her, but she’s very obvious when playing favorites and june was decidedly not one of her favorite students. in fact, june’s probably one of her least favorite, which june knows for certain after she submits a fully decorated and colored book report that she’squite proud of only to watch as her classmate saunters in with an uncolored, written-in-pencil project (you must understand using pencil was strictly against the directions of the project; it was underlined twice) and put it next to hers. her classmate got a higher grade than her, and while it is more than perfectly fine to have favorites and perhaps even expected, it’s probably best not to let an eleven year old that you don’t particularly care for her or dislike her. june’s grudge would linger all the way to the present day, and would only be soothed by the memory of miss white, her favorite teacher (ever), who she would first encounter next year. AS OF ABOUT SIX YEARS AGO, june has stolen eighteen different jackets from the lost and found. all eighteen jackets are rather fashionable and suit june excellently (and she has washed them thoroughly before wearing), although her mother has been growing suspicious about the increasing size of june’s closet. in response to her mother’s growing sense of vigilance, june has put a stop to her life of thievery and has begun to take up an interest in needlework. she is excellent at embroidery and sewing in general, passable at knitting, and awful at crocheting. she likes crocheting best, of course. AS OF ABOUT SEVEN YEARS AGO, june begins to fancy herself as a bit of a writer. she is not a very accomplished writer, just as she is not a very accomplished designer, just as she is not a very accomplished portrait artist, just as she is not a very accomplished engineer (all pursuits she had contemplating pursuing before). she writes exactly four and a half novels (roughly about 800 pages long each, with each page being a college-ruled composition notebook page) with the sort of superfluously verbose purple prose that 80-cent grocery store romances tend to favor due to the assistance of a rather thick thesaurus. (never again will she refer to a dress’ fabric as diaphanous, which, in my opinion, is a little bit of a shame.) her grades are miraculously unaffected by this, and her parents, for the most part, are unaware of the contents of her writing, which is really all for the best. AS OF ABOUT EIGHT YEARS AGO, june has her first crush. it is on a boy named julian in her class, and the similarity of their given names has driven her to despair multiple times. throughout the course of their time knowing each other, julian has given her two pencils, played with her fourteen times, and talked to her two hundred eighty-nine times - in case someone’s keeping track. june herself is not keeping track, because she is too absorbed in her new hobby of reading. currently, she’s interested in pinning up excerpts of articles that she likes but very rarely understands up in her room, tacking the papers onto her walls. her grades are coming along excellently, and if you know anything about the life of an eight year old, you must be aware that there are about only four things that matter at that age: your family, your chosen hobby, your friends, and school. she is quite satisfied with the state of all of them. (and in the months to come, june will get over her crush on grubby-fingered julian after one-hundred twenty-one days of knowing him, which does not seem like a very long time, but then again, this will be about - if we’re being rough with our estimates - 1/26th of the time june has been alive, which is a very long time to spend on a boy in retrospect.) AS OF ABOUT NINE YEARS AGO, june writes a letter to her future self in 100 years, because her teacher has told her to write a letter to herself in the future, and june thinks that 100 years is a nice neat number, and 107 an even nicer number. she’s seven, and she’s relatively sure that that’s a very grown-up number, because she’s about to hit the double digits. (her father says it’s an extremely mature number, too, but her father is a bit of a l-o-s-e-r, if you ask her.) in it she bemoans the state of her current life: buried in tons of books she barely understands, clinging to the few romance novels she can read, surrounded by friends that she can only talk to during lunch-and-breaks, the way she has come to anticipate the comments in the “report card” with equal parts dread and hope, always listening to the news and hearing things to be sad about, never seeing her father and always seeing him tired, and the overprotectiveness of her mother. the letter only takes up about half a page, because june reports everything factually and succinctly, with the shortest, brusquest sentences she can drudge up. her teacher doesn’t read it when she turns it in: just flicks her eyes over it and stamps it as complete. june will lose the letter in two years. AS OF ABOUT TEN YEARS AGO, june’s mother and father begin plying june with books - all sorts of books. because her parents prefer to be economical, all of june’s texts are from her parents’, her parents’ friends, or (previously) her parents’ friends’ children’s. thus, june embarks on the lifelong journey of staring at words that she understands (for the most part) individually but not so much together, and being able to pronounce them without understanding what they really mean. and like her attitude towards books, it is during this time that june will grow so used to the sounds and actions associated with terror attacks around lorsette that she will begin to expect them to come in the coming days, in the coming years, and even in the coming decades, the same way one grows accustomed to adding a year to their age every time their birthday rolls around (hopefully your birthday comes around annually, like june’s does every june.) AS OF ABOUT ELEVEN YEARS AGO, june has just started kindergarten. she has been described as both a “perfect darling” by one teacher and a “perfect terror” by another. at this stage in her life, june has achieved both peak brattiness and peak cuteness. she is easily soothed by praise and flourishes underneath it, and actively strives to receive it, whether she’s aiming for compliments on her penmanship or a comment about her outfit. she has gone from four friends to twelve friends, eight of them from kindergarten. she is on friendly terms with almost all of her classmates, except for one boy called gareth. gareth and june have begun to mutually consider each other enemies after fighting over who gets to sit in the red square on the floor mat during class. AS OF ABOUT TWELVE YEARS AGO, june has asked her parents where children come from exactly sixty-eight times. she has been denied seventy-two times, because her parents have learned how to respond to the question before she has begun to even say it. when meeting new people, she routinely recites: “my name is june. i’m four.” she has learned exactly three jokes, and her parents are growing weary of hearing the same ones all the time. additionally, out of june’s three jokes, she understands zero of them. (they have all been stolen from late-night television shows that she’s not supposed to watch but she hears through the thin walls of their house when she’s supposed to be asleep in bed.) AS OF ABOUT THIRTEEN YEARS AGO, june has made four friends. these are her parents’ friends’ children, and june has only remembered 75% of her friends’ names. she will ask the fourth friend (a girl named sasha) for her name thirteen seconds after dutifully handing her an invitation to june’s late birthday party on saturday, and sasha will cry. she will not remember this. when sasha and june meet again when june is nine, at school, june will have forgotten her and will ask for her name again. (sasha does not cry that time, although she remembers june.) despite this, all four of her friends will be present at her birthday party. AS OF ABOUT FOURTEEN YEARS AGO, june has recently taken to organizing her toys by size, color, and shape. when she is particularly mystified on where to put a plaything, she has taken to hiding them under cushions or pieces of furniture so she won’t have to sort them. she has thrown exactly three major tantrums, all of which she will deny ever having thrown for the rest of her life whenever her parents bring it up. her favorite question is why, and that three-letter word has been driving her parents particularly insane. AS OF ABOUT FIFTEEN YEARS AGO, june’s weight has roughly tripled from what it was when she was born. she’s very fond of standing, and has just taken her first wobbling steps. her father has considered the idea that having a child was not worth the blow to his sleep and general well-being exactly four hundred eighty-three times, and he has disregarded it precisely four hundred eighty-three times. june has also broken a grand total of thirty-two objects so far. she will break something else approximately four minutes after she turns two - a ceramic figurine a neighbor had gifted her mother in celebration of june’s birthday, placed just in arms’ reach of where june is seated at her chair at the kitchen table. her parents, unfortunately, are not aware of this yet. the figurine, fortunately, is very ugly. AS OF ABOUT SIXTEEN YEARS AGO, june was born - in june. her parents named her accordingly. (AS OF ABOUT SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO, june’s parents sit down for a discussion in early september in their shared living room. june’s mother leans back in her plush armchair, and june’s father raises his coffee mug to his lips. they are having a talk, emphasis emphasized, and only two seconds tick-tock by on the great clock in their living room before june’s mother says: “what do you think of children?”) misc + pierced her ears four times, but due to her previous phobia of needles, she was too scared of putting in new earrings after taking the original pair out, so the holes in her ears filled out and she had to get her ears pierced again. thus, after the fourth time she got her ears pierced, her mom's forbidden her from taking out her earrings. + her mother is a human, and her father an angel. + she absolutely hates her father's haircut. she thinks it makes him look like an egg, but her mother doesn't really care, and, well, her father always listens best to her mother. + the first three digits of her phone number (excluding area code, of course) are 123. | roleplayer info ☆ NAME lovelorn ☆ RP EXPERIENCE 3-4 years ☆ TIMEZONE pst ☆ GENDER female ☆ AGE fifteen ☆ OTHER CHARACTERS n/a ☆ FACE CLAIM MOB PSYCHO 100, TSUBOMI TAKANE ---------------------- THIS CHARACTER BELONGS TO LOVELORN. DO NOT STEAL. |
MADE BY ★MEULK