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November 9th, 2011

09:39 pm - application for Adstringendum SPOILER HEAVY Name: Steph Livejournal: knights_say_nih Contact: UndrwO on AIM, underwater.owl@gmail.com Other Characters Played: Xerxes Break mister_hatter Are you 18 or over? Yes Canon: American Horror Story Character: Violet Harmon Timeline: coming in post episode 5, Piggy Piggy. Personality: Violet is a smart, scrappy, too indy to be indy kind of girl. She rocks out awful mustard cardigans, ankle length paisley skirts and coonskin caps. She’s smoking already highschool student, and she hates her classmates, her parents, her teachers, and most of the world in general. She marches to the beat of her own drum, excels in class despite complete disinterest, likes to listen to Nirvana, Morrissey, read Jean-Paul Sartre, manga and Nietzsche, and thinks these things make her unique and mature. In some ways they do, in other ways they underscore how very young and stupid she is. Her personality is a strange blend of bluntness and wisdom, coupled with total immaturity and teenaged spite. One moment she casually seems to diagnose her mother, offering her quiet support, the next she’s snapping at her that she hates her and she’s ruining her life. Violet is right on the cusp of adulthood, and is frustrated that she isn’t being treated like one, so she retaliates by being childish. One thing about her is she doesn’t quite know how to balance her intellect with any sort of moderating kindness or compassion. She is able to work out that her mother is pregnant by the fact that she stops drinking wine at dinner and starts gaining weight in her face. After guessing, she informs her that ‘Having a baby isn’t going to keep you and dad together,’ and when her mother asks if she has any more cruel things to say, she adds that ‘I think you’re weak.’ But then, in her own most profound moment of crisis in the show thus far, screams out first and foremost for her mother. All her life, Violet has been contrary. She has also always insisted that she isn’t afraid of anything, once demanding to be brought home from a sleepover because the other girls slept with the light on. She’d insist on going as monsters for Halloween because she had to be scary, ignoring her pretty-in-pink peers. This is all significant, since her boyfriend is a dead teenager who haunts her basement. Because she’s from a horror-canon, we’ve had a chance to see her in action. She handles herself well in a crisis, luring a knife-wielding killer to her death by taking her into the basement to be killed by ghosts. She’s a supremely good liar, fast on her feet with just the right amount of embellishment to make a story believable. Violet is a social pariah at high school, partially because she’s small and weird, and partially because she’s new to the school and that always means fresh blood in the water. She’s targeted by the popular girls on campus, ostensibly because she smokes. One of her most defining character traits, however, is her immense strength and resolve when faced with situations that would normally intimidate, shock, or terrify anyone else. She coolly bluffs her way out of the situation with the home invaders trying to kill her. She charges outside with only a pair of scissors and threatens to call the cops on a group of teenagers who she believes are trying to beat up her boyfriend. When three girls attack her and try to beat her up, she grabs a cigarette butt and grinds it into the hand of the ringleader. Uncommon mettle for any fifteen year old girl. Aside from her bratty nature, Violet has a kind and compassionate streak. When her next door neighbor, a young woman with Downs’ syndrome, comes over for Halloween dressed in a party dress and announces she wants to go as a pretty girl, Violet is happy to sit down and play girl with her, putting on make up and telling her she looks beautiful before sending her on her way. Pretty much all of her scorn is reserved for people who have some sort of power over her. Background: Violet’s life is a little bit topsy turvy by the time we meet her in canon. In the year before the show began, her entire life was turned upside down. Her mother had a miscarriage seven months along, and had to give birth to the child. The family had a funeral for the fetus. Her father, in the aftermath of the miscarriage, cheated on her mother with one of his students, severely testing the marriage. Somewhere in the midst of all this, Violet started cutting herself. She doesn’t intend to kill herself, slicing shallowly, watching the blood spill into the sink- but when we see her wrists there are layers of scars, some old, some new. She wears long sleeves, or a terry cloth wrist band. Her parents are completely oblivious to this, and any other pain she might be feeling. Her parents response was to transplant everyone from Boston, where Violet was perfectly happy, to San Francisco, where she hates her school and her peers and the fact that they don’t have weather. The moved into what was locally known as ‘the Murder House,’ a place with untold numbers of killings. Violet was pretty excited about that; in fact, she was the one to insist they buy the place when the real estate agent revealed that the previous owners had died in a murder suicide. To make matters worse, Violet catches his father with their elderly housekeeper, in a possibly compromising situation. This sort of leads her to believe he hasn’t stopped the infidelity. She blames him for being an asshole, she blames her mother for what she sees as lacking the courage to kick him out. She blames herself for not being able to tell her mother, for whatever reason. She lashes out as much as possible, plays her music too loud, sees the wrong sorts of boys. Well, one wrong sort of boy in particular. Of course, the house was haunted. The first ghost she met was Tate. Tate manifested in the house as a patient her father (a psychiatrist) was treating. He snuck upstairs and caught her with a razor blade to her wrist, and calmly advised her that if she was trying to kill herself, she should slice lengthwise, and probably lock the door. He walked out with a slight smirk… and Violet was pretty much head over heels there and then. Their relationship blossomed slowly and rather touchingly. They compare scars, he’s the one that helps orchestrate the plan to save her from the evil home invaders (taking an axe to one of them.) They usually hang out in her basement, because although she doesn’t know it yet, he’s dead and can’t leave the house. However, he takes advantage of his general mobility on Halloween to take her out on a real date. Tate brings her a rose he painted black, because ‘I know how you don’t like normal things.’ Violet tells him that it’s the first time a boy has ever brought her flowers, and that she loves it. They chat, mostly about how awful adults and parents and other highschool students are. About how Quentin Tarantino and Al Pacino and Marlon Brando were all high school drop outs, and how you make your own destiny. About Cobain and good music. The fact that her father catches her with Tate and tells her she is under no circumstances to ever see him again only drives her closer to him. The last few days have not been kind to Violet. Her neighbor, the one who she helped with her make up, was struck and killed by a car on Halloween. The next morning, Violet’s father finally moved out. And most confusing for her, the mob of teenagers who she tried to fight off with scissors made reference to a massacre at her highschool and told her to look it up. She did, and discovered that Tate was not only a school shooter, but a dead one. Her next door neighbor, Tate’s mother, talked to her about it and revealed that he didn’t know he was dead, and that the house had probably made it happen somehow. Violet began self-harming again, having more vivid fantasies about slitting her own throat. She ventured down into the basement to find him and was suddenly confronted by a half-dozen or so of the louder ghosts that inhabit the house, some of them behaving aggressively. Violet scrambled upstairs, found ‘I love you’ written on her chalk board, and took as many sleeping pills as she could. Tate was there, all of a sudden, dragging her down the hall to the bathroom. He got her under a cold shower and stuck his fingers down her throat, probably saving her life, kissing head and crying and begging her not to die. The show flashes forward the next day, Violet curled up in bed looking ill. Tate visits again, and asks if she’ll tell her parents about the pills. Violet predictably says no. Tate then asks her if she’d like him to never talk to her again. He can tell that she’s been distant. He tells her he really loves her, so he will put her needs above his own. He’s prepared to vanish if she wants him to, though he doesn’t know what she’s done. She considers it for a moment, then extends an arm to him and tells him to ‘come here.’ They curl up in bed talking about birds. Violet will fall asleep like that, and when she wakes up she will be in Adstringendum. Abilities/Additional Notes: None! Totally human. Sample Journal Post: What, I’m just supposed to talk into this thing, and everyone will answer? Seriously, this is like a post-apocalyptic My Side of the Mountain. I mean, I can do it and everything, but it’s still crazy that we’re just expected to live here. Without currency, without laws, without any reasonably functioning electricity, from what I can tell. [ Violet has spent a lot of time adjusting to living somewhere with so few boundaries. She’s on her own, in a house by herself, for the first time in her life. It’s a lot to handle, after having come from under the thumb of an overprotective mother who insists on cooking an organic meal for dinner every day. She can smoke at her own leisure, wherever and whenever she wants (provided she can get her hands on the cigarettes, which aren’t easy to scavenge for.) She can cook whatever she wants, at whatever hour. She can decorate, not just her room, but the entire building, however she pleases.] Speaking of which, I wonder what keeps these things running, huh? Someone should try to crack one apart and see if they can use the energy source to power a hot water heater. But I guess then you risk breaking it, and the only thing worse than being stuck in Invitation to the Game is being stuck there without reliable internet. Which these things sort of function as, don’t they? So in other news, my parents are going to flip when they find out I’m missing. If they even notice. I guess no one has been able to get a message back, or someone would have told me by now? [Today, she’s working on the front of the place. It’s already whitewashed brick, pretty and clean except for the rather ratty window shutters, but she doesn’t care about that. Violet climbs up her borrowed ladder, paint and brush in hand, and starts to draw a crooked message across the front of the building, letters two feet tall each. It reads: I love Paris in the the spring time. The puzzle takes her three hours to fill in completely, and when it’s done, she settles down on her front porch with a cup of coffee and a smoke, watching the empty street. Satisfaction slowly fades away to hollowness, and she doesn’t bother to close the can of paint before going back inside, alone.] Sample RP: Violet wakes up slowly. The fog from earlier has dissipated, but her body feels icy cold. It’s the same as the shower; everything is cold, clammy, cloth sticking to her skin, teeth chattering. She can hear his voice in her ear, Don’t die on me, Violet, don’t die on me- and for a dizzy second she reaches for him. Her hand hits brick. Her eyes blink open. She isn’t in her bathtub, she isn’t in her own bedroom, she isn’t even in her house. She’s soaking wet and cold because she’s waking up on a city street, in some kind of back alley, and because she’s been unconscious for long enough that the rain has soaked her to the skin. She tries to sit up, and puts her head between her knees, dizzily, sure that this must be some sort of hallucination. Something. Anything. This can’t be happening. When none of it fails to vanish, she drags herself upright, adjusts her sodden sweater, and moves towards the alleyway opening, supporting herself on the brick. This doesn’t look like San Francisco, or Boston, or anywhere she’s ever been for that matter. “Hello?” Silence answers her. “Mom?” Nothing. “Anyone?” “Tate?”

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November 2nd, 2011

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October 16th, 2011

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