Application for reimsacademy
( fandom student application )
PLAYER INFORMATION
PLAYER: Sam
AGE: 21
CONTACT: AIM/ironbirdobserver
PERSONAL LJ: blue_raven64
CHARACTERS PLAYED N/A
CHARACTER INFORMATION
NAME: Flandre Scarlet
CANON: Touhou Project
CANON REFERENCE: http://en.touhouwiki.net/wiki/Flandre_Scarlet
AGE: 12
GENDER: Mentally and physically female
YEAR IN SCHOOL: MS1
ENROLLMENT: Rich family boom de yada
APPEARANCE: Flandre is rather small and scrawny, even for her age; somewhere around 4’3’’ if she stretched and eighty pounds if she jumped. She is tiny. And, consequently, stands on her toes or hops around a lot, just to see things properly.
…not that she doesn’t bounce around everywhere anyway because she’s like a child-shaped superball, but shhh.
The reason for her blonde hair (usually in a side-tail) and rather startling red eyes is a kind of bizarre partially expressed ocular albinism; the thing that makes her eyes appear red is the lack of pigment in the iris, allowing light to reflect off of the blood vessels instead of the iris proper. So, basically, you’re seeing the back of her eyeball. Constantly. And Flandre will quite cheerfully remind people of this fact, on the off chance that they may have forgotten.
She doesn’t like sunlight for this reason. Or any bright lights, really; she loves dimmer switches. Flipping a normal switch on without warning is guaranteed to make her hate you for at least five minutes. Flandre strongly dislikes flashlights too, and will avoid using them at all costs. She’d rather trip than blind herself; she’s had too many unpleasant experiences to be remotely comfortable with the things.
At the same time, Flandre doesn’t like rain. No biological reason this time; she just doesn’t like it and it makes her grumpy.
PERSONALITY: Good god this kid’s an odd one. Suffering from a form of schizotypal personality disorder, Flandre can be difficult to understand, though her behavior tends more towards the peculiar than the malicious. She will say as many odd things as she does; from remembering bizarre and tangential bits of trivia (how long a head freshly severed by a guillotine will stay blinking) to occasionally insisting that she is a vampire. And distantly related to Dracula. She’ll bite your ankles! See if she won’t! Biology doesn’t work that way, you silly child!
When not being patently ridiculous, Flandre is a rather endearing child that has a tendency to attract hugs. Not that she minds in the slightest; she quite likes hugs or any affectionate gesture. And the color red. Less so tickles, as she is weak to those, very ticklish and dissolves into a fit of giggles practically at the thought. Even less so crowds-meaning more than two people. Crowds make Flandre very nervous and fretful and unhappy and fidgety, whether they’re paying attention to her or not. At the same time, wide open spaces make her a bit neurotic too-though generally only in the daytime. The daytime sky might decide to fall on her face. The night sky is different; it has stars to hold it up, and the moon is pretty. Overcast days are her favorite, but given the Mediterranean climate, rather few and far between. She also quite likes poppies, though she can’t really explain why other than that they’re red and pretty.
Others often describe her as astonishingly scatterbrained, if “adorable” does not enter the lexicon. Or annoying. Or obnoxiously curious. Or all four at once in some strange amalgamation of personality traits. (Did I mention the curious part? Yeah. She’ll make funny noises a lot, too.)
Forming relationships is another issue; while not entirely solitary (and not wanting to be), establishing more meaningful bonds beyond casual nice acquaintances is something she doesn’t fully understand and thus shies away from rather than risk rejection. She’s devoted to her sister, certainly; she loves her more than anything. Her father scares her. Her mother is quiet. Anyone beyond that is a happy accident; there’s a roadblock in her mind that this kind of thing has to get through to do any good. Is that right? This? That must be right! …no it’s not. Maybe?
Flandre is actually terribly lonely, but…she’s not sure how to fix it. Part of the reason she likes hugs so much, really.
As to whether she believes everything she says, it's a bit...questionable at times. Flandre will really believe she is a vampire one day, down to trying to bite people (harmless) and tripping over things in the dark (not so harmless if she lands on someone). And then dismiss such ideas as silly the next, only to repeat it all later in the week. Things fit into Flandre's mind in an utterly bizarre logical puzzle that makes practically no sense to anyone but her; she hates sardines and has a test in history in a week and is supposed to see an adviser on Tuesday and it must be remembered in that order. It rains because she doesn't want it to, or she is sad; what is this water vapor nonsense?
Other children are practically brand new entities to Flandre, having very limited exposure to them until recently. They're strange and so unlike herself they might as well be aliens, though some of them are the same size and some speak French. Flandre is in essence her own standard; they're the weird ones, not her!
...but smiles are always nice. Though abrasive personalities are not, and are classified as mean people who deserve frowns.
Strange adults are a bit more intimidating than weird, as they tend to be tall, though just as nonsensical. She tends to like them a bit more easily, as so far they have been nice and smiled and everyone is nice to the cute kid. Sometimes, though, Flandre will flat-out dislike them (adults and fellow children) for whatever reason; maybe they turned the lights on too fast or yelled too much or the planets were aligned incorrectly. Yelling--or even just a raised or stern voice--will make her freeze up, as if stunned. Continued pressure will make Flandre lash out or flee, instead of responding in a reasonable manner.
COMPUTER APTITUDE: How do I use the Internet?
Though Flandre is good at the basics and has absorbed random bits of knowledge here and there through osmosis, ask her to encrypt or hack anything and you are highly likely to receive a confused headtilt in response.
AU HISTORY: Born in France, to an old, wealthy family with a smudged ancestry, Flandre was a sheltered child almost from the start. She was born early and remained small and a bit on the frail side as she grew, meeting few people outside of her family until relatively recently. She knew her parents, her sister Remilia, her sister’s friend Patchouli, vaguely her sister’s friend’s sister Corrine, that boy with pretty silver hair named Sakuya and…that’s about it, as far as people went. There were the occasional passing servants, but Flandre didn’t remember their names or even their faces.
Though she grew up to be all healthy and full of energy, initially she was quite prone to sickness. Minor things to anyone else; colds, fevers, suspicious but transient respiratory infections, and so on. Flandre became sick of doctor’s visits and began taking great lengths to hide and avoid this unpleasantness. The mansion had a lot of hiding places, after all. Which didn’t put Flandre on the best terms with her father and exasperated her mother, when she was around. This was not something her father appreciated; he expected her to excel and be in many ways an overachiever, not hide in dusty corners because she didn’t want a flu shot. This became something of a Catch-22, as time went on; Flandre was extremely sensitive to the slightest bit of disappointment thrown her way. While anyone else would have been taken this in stride, Flandre...didn't.
It was primarily for this reason that her mental illness was diagnosed relatively late, at the age of eight. It was readily apparent that there was something off about her long before this; something the rest of her family learned to deal with. The brand of schizotypal disorder Flandre had escalated after her father had departed for Japan on a long-term business venture; turning into dramatic separation anxiety and paranoia that led her to yet another doctor, though this one was different.
And the diagnosis more unsettling, as far as the rest of her family was concerned. Schizotypal personality disorder tended to be hereditary, after all; it would be a blow to the family’s reputation if schizophrenics were found in the family tree. Flandre’s diagnosis was silenced, though it did not go unheeded. She began treatment almost immediately; the sooner, the better, and no one would notice, or so the thought went.
Flandre did indeed get better, slowly. The paranoia faded to a degree, she stopped running away from people. At the age of eleven, she seemed to have regained most of that confidence that had been set to wobbling.
Thus, Flandre being sent to Reims Academy was for several reasons; for an education, surely, but also as therapy. There were more children her age there, far more than she would have encountered at home-but not too many, as a public school would have had. And it was also something of an experiment; would even this be too much? Or would Flandre be just fine? (Her family are inclined to think the latter; she's a bit stubborn like that.)
SAMPLES
SAMPLES
INTRANET/1ST PERSON SAMPLE: I hope it isn’t sunny tomorrow! I don’t like sun. Or bright lights, or flashlights, or lightbulbs without those dimmer things on, or flash photography, or flood lights…
…oh, but it shouldn’t rain either! Rain is worse! Almost! It’s all cold and icky and wet and gets everywhere and ew.
Why can’t it just be cloudy all day, without the rain? Rain is miserable. I could never live in Britain, there’s too much rain.
[FLYING CHANGE OF SUBJECT.]
I heard the forest has bears, too. Polar bears!
…I’ve never seen a polar bear, even in a zoo. Or, I did, but they were sleeping and all the way at the back and boring. They didn’t look like bears. Teddy bears don’t look like bears. Nothing looks like bears, except for bears.
…except pandas, but they’re not bears at all.
LOG/3RD PERSON SAMPLE: It would have been a nice day, by almost anyone else’s measure; it was pleasantly warm in the shade at least, the sky decorated with picturesque fluffy clouds, the shadows long enough to lounge in but not so long as to indicate a time to go back inside.
But there was one significant issue in Flandre’s mind; it was sunny. And prickled at her eyes, even flopped over into the shadow of a tree with a parasol. Yes, she’s using an umbrella in the shade, what of it?
She should go back inside. But, she didn’t. She might not anytime soon; it was the start of another weekend, though she did have things to do. Like study.
Flandre just stayed where she was, though; alternately twirling her parasol aimlessly about her head, staring up at the occasional cloud (that one, for instance, resembled a snail), lounge on the grass (which felt a bit nubby), and think. Mostly non-school-related things, most of them half thoughts-where were the poppies? They should have bloomed by now, before the weather got too hot. Or too cold. Flandre liked poppies. Why had everything hopped from winter right into summer? It was still supposed to be spring.
--there was something on her hand. Flandre looked down, and found that the sun had gone and moved, while she was thinking. How preposterous. It might decide to jump in her eyes, next! And that would be terrible.
She scooted over a little bit with an equally little grumble, though it was harder to resume such aimless thoughts now. Instead of regarding the clouds, her thoughts turned to the house-back to the house. Was father back?
…Flandre’s thoughts paused there.
And then she suddenly and violently threw the parasol in her hands away. It didn’t go far, but she wasn’t paying too much attention to anyone that might have been in range.
“…now why did I do that?”
HAVE YOU READ THE FAQ? WOMBAAAAAT