Post by .SyRiNGE on Nov 28, 2007 4:16:57 GMT
.:And I'm a Black Rainbow:.
Syringe
.:And I'm an Ape of God:.
Birth name is Mia Belle Haddix
.:I Got a Face That’s:.
Aged 23
.:Made for Violence Upon:.
Syringe was born and raised in the outskirts of Illinois before she moved to big city Chicago when she was seventeen. Her family wasn’t very well known or well-off, but she had a fair enough time growing up and had most of the same opportunities as other children and teens. Her father was an auto mechanic (not a very good one, but he still brought home money), and her mother owned a Laundromat in a small town nearby. Mia had two siblings, John Mark Haddix, and Larissa Ariel Haddix. She hasn’t seen her family for nearly five years.
Syringe never wanted for much, until she reached high school and started hanging out with the wrong crowd. With John being the brain in the family and Larissa the perfect mother’s girl, Mia took up the more social aspects of life, helping her father out at the shop when she was bored and spending more and more time with friends and acqauintences. Naturally she ran into certain things, like drugs and alchohol, and she was only too welcoming to take them in. She quickly received her nickname, Syringe, and once she took that name it stuck completely and she’s never used Mia since. These things became natural for her, and she became a most excellent social chameleon, able to mesh into almost any crowd and she therefore began to notice what made people tick. She became a drug pusher to pay for her habit, and while she was at it she picked up a few tricks along the way.
Mia just barely graduated high school, and when she did she moved to Chicago and then to Jersey at twenty-two. Although she is a perfectly intelligent girl she became more preoccupied with things like psychology and poured her mind into research on the topic. Ironically enough she never bothered to take the psychology course her high school offered. Her marks show her as none too bewildering in any single course, and so she’s never been accepted into any decent colleges so she’s never bothered to take up any sort of extra education. She makes her living as a confidence artist, posing as whatever sort of person she needs to be at the time.
.:I’m a Teen Distortion:.
Syringe is a typical junkie, but she had a bad reaction to a mix of acid at one point and once she was carted off to the hospital they didn’t know what to do to help her. Eventually it cleared up almost on its own, but her skin has become an off-gray sort of color since then. Her sunny blonde hair has become almost platinum blonde overtime, and her eyes are very dark in color. She can be startling to see at first, but she just takes some getting used to. She will often wear makeup to cover up her gray skin, so most of the time she looks entirely normal.
She isn’t extraordinarily tall, standing at 5’5.3”, but she has a slim figure which makes her appear naturally taller. She takes an interest in almost-knee-high flat suede boots throughout the year, and skinny jeans. Long-sleeved black t-shirts are a common association with her, as are accessories that are related to cats.
.:Survived Abortion:.
Syringe is not agreeable in the least, with very abstract ideas regarding life and philosophy she can be very difficult to tolerate. She is high strung, strong willed, and highly opinionated and doesn’t take debates or arguments very lightly. She appreciates the sort of people who can be described as street smart and has little tolerance for those who learn everything from mere books. She is aware that society would call her a low-life, simply because she is a criminal in her own right, but she is willing to give each person she meets (other than her marks) a chance to earn her respect. And while she can easily fit into any situation if she desires, Syringe would much rather be her irritating self and get to know somebody, although she highly doubts that is going to happen. Used to being alone and handling herself, she is unlikely to accept help with anything as people tend to get in her way. Mia still does not want for much and prefers the beauty of simplicity to overly complicated relationships and personal lives.
.:A Rebel From the Waist Down:.
Syringe as of yet has no sort of relationship, allies or enemies, with anyone in or around New Jersey.
~Other~
Syringe lives as a confidence artist, and comes across various deals every now and then. She has a small apartment near the edge of town, and conducts herself as privately as she can.
~Sample Post~
(this is an older post from about six months ago)
Syringe calmly stepped into the cafe, khaki-colored suede trenchcoat swishing slightly as the air swirled around her while the door closed. Her dark eyes glowered at everyone in the room, as if daring them to speak up and shout "That's the one! That's the one who stole my money!" And it wasn't as if that couldn't happen. It could happen, and it had happened to her before. In fact, an old sucker of hers had tracked her down and got her ass thrown in jail. She'd served four months of the six month sentence until they'd finally released her. She'd been out for maybe two and half months, but jail time wasn't about to soften her, to make her quit what she was best at. Could she help it if she was gifted at the art of flimflam? Selling what didn't exist was her specialty. So what if a bunch of saps got burned? It would teach them to be smarter. But even if they did get a little wiser, it would help them all that much. The suckers were greedy, and it was greed that allowed people like her to thrive. It wasn't her fault. Well...not really, anyway.
Syringe was good at playing the con game. She could get whatever look she needed. It didn't matter if she had messy, stringy, extremely wavy blonde hair. It didn't matter if her skin had a permanent gray, death-like tone to it. It didn't matter if the drugs had burned the inside of her nose and left scars on her arms. It didn't matter if her dark eyes now had a noticably odd look to them. None of it mattered, none of the scars mattered. Her tousled appearance could be instantly transformed with a bit of help from her old buddies. Sure, she was a former junkie, but a bit of rehab had gone a long way with her. She would still use the drugs if they were there - she wasn't inhuman, after all - but she didn't use 'em as much.
Yeah, it was the shooting up that had earned Syringe her title. And now, if it wasn't a con game, she always introduced herself as simply 'Syringe'. It could be anyone. In fact, Syringe used to work at a McDonald's, and for some reason the managers allowed themselves to call her Syringe, and allowed her to have her nametag say 'Syringe'. Of course, the McDonald's wasn't in a spectacular part of the city, so it wasn't exactly a big deal. But still, Syringe knew it wasn't very professional. But she couldn't help not recognizing her birth name as her own. She was now Syringe, and Syringe she would stay. Forget the first name, forget the middle name, forget the last name. Mia Belle Haddix was only for her professional persona. Syringe was her name.
Syringe glanced around a few more times before stepping up to the counter to order. She wanted some caffeine, and bad. Of course, one coffee wouldn't suffice. She'd go get some of them nasty, unhealthy energy drinks and down at least four of them. That wouldn't satisfy her, so she'd go hunting for one of her old drug dealers. See, Syringe knew she didn't really want caffeine, she knew what she wanted full well. But she didn't want to go get the drugs at that particular moment. She'd feel guilty. The caffeine, for some reason, only made her want the narcotics even more, and she'd go into a frenzy. If she could trigger one of those overwhelming desires for drugs, she wouldn't feel so bad about having them. And so, as she ordered a simple coffee with double cream, triple on the sugar, she only felt a twinge of guilt. She had odd ways of thinking, but her unusual way of thinking got her through the day. And that was all anyone could ask of her.
(lyrics from Disposable Teens by Marilyn Manson)
let me know if I need to change anything, or if it's not okay to play non-canon
Syringe
.:And I'm an Ape of God:.
Birth name is Mia Belle Haddix
.:I Got a Face That’s:.
Aged 23
.:Made for Violence Upon:.
Syringe was born and raised in the outskirts of Illinois before she moved to big city Chicago when she was seventeen. Her family wasn’t very well known or well-off, but she had a fair enough time growing up and had most of the same opportunities as other children and teens. Her father was an auto mechanic (not a very good one, but he still brought home money), and her mother owned a Laundromat in a small town nearby. Mia had two siblings, John Mark Haddix, and Larissa Ariel Haddix. She hasn’t seen her family for nearly five years.
Syringe never wanted for much, until she reached high school and started hanging out with the wrong crowd. With John being the brain in the family and Larissa the perfect mother’s girl, Mia took up the more social aspects of life, helping her father out at the shop when she was bored and spending more and more time with friends and acqauintences. Naturally she ran into certain things, like drugs and alchohol, and she was only too welcoming to take them in. She quickly received her nickname, Syringe, and once she took that name it stuck completely and she’s never used Mia since. These things became natural for her, and she became a most excellent social chameleon, able to mesh into almost any crowd and she therefore began to notice what made people tick. She became a drug pusher to pay for her habit, and while she was at it she picked up a few tricks along the way.
Mia just barely graduated high school, and when she did she moved to Chicago and then to Jersey at twenty-two. Although she is a perfectly intelligent girl she became more preoccupied with things like psychology and poured her mind into research on the topic. Ironically enough she never bothered to take the psychology course her high school offered. Her marks show her as none too bewildering in any single course, and so she’s never been accepted into any decent colleges so she’s never bothered to take up any sort of extra education. She makes her living as a confidence artist, posing as whatever sort of person she needs to be at the time.
.:I’m a Teen Distortion:.
Syringe is a typical junkie, but she had a bad reaction to a mix of acid at one point and once she was carted off to the hospital they didn’t know what to do to help her. Eventually it cleared up almost on its own, but her skin has become an off-gray sort of color since then. Her sunny blonde hair has become almost platinum blonde overtime, and her eyes are very dark in color. She can be startling to see at first, but she just takes some getting used to. She will often wear makeup to cover up her gray skin, so most of the time she looks entirely normal.
She isn’t extraordinarily tall, standing at 5’5.3”, but she has a slim figure which makes her appear naturally taller. She takes an interest in almost-knee-high flat suede boots throughout the year, and skinny jeans. Long-sleeved black t-shirts are a common association with her, as are accessories that are related to cats.
.:Survived Abortion:.
Syringe is not agreeable in the least, with very abstract ideas regarding life and philosophy she can be very difficult to tolerate. She is high strung, strong willed, and highly opinionated and doesn’t take debates or arguments very lightly. She appreciates the sort of people who can be described as street smart and has little tolerance for those who learn everything from mere books. She is aware that society would call her a low-life, simply because she is a criminal in her own right, but she is willing to give each person she meets (other than her marks) a chance to earn her respect. And while she can easily fit into any situation if she desires, Syringe would much rather be her irritating self and get to know somebody, although she highly doubts that is going to happen. Used to being alone and handling herself, she is unlikely to accept help with anything as people tend to get in her way. Mia still does not want for much and prefers the beauty of simplicity to overly complicated relationships and personal lives.
.:A Rebel From the Waist Down:.
Syringe as of yet has no sort of relationship, allies or enemies, with anyone in or around New Jersey.
~Other~
Syringe lives as a confidence artist, and comes across various deals every now and then. She has a small apartment near the edge of town, and conducts herself as privately as she can.
~Sample Post~
(this is an older post from about six months ago)
Syringe calmly stepped into the cafe, khaki-colored suede trenchcoat swishing slightly as the air swirled around her while the door closed. Her dark eyes glowered at everyone in the room, as if daring them to speak up and shout "That's the one! That's the one who stole my money!" And it wasn't as if that couldn't happen. It could happen, and it had happened to her before. In fact, an old sucker of hers had tracked her down and got her ass thrown in jail. She'd served four months of the six month sentence until they'd finally released her. She'd been out for maybe two and half months, but jail time wasn't about to soften her, to make her quit what she was best at. Could she help it if she was gifted at the art of flimflam? Selling what didn't exist was her specialty. So what if a bunch of saps got burned? It would teach them to be smarter. But even if they did get a little wiser, it would help them all that much. The suckers were greedy, and it was greed that allowed people like her to thrive. It wasn't her fault. Well...not really, anyway.
Syringe was good at playing the con game. She could get whatever look she needed. It didn't matter if she had messy, stringy, extremely wavy blonde hair. It didn't matter if her skin had a permanent gray, death-like tone to it. It didn't matter if the drugs had burned the inside of her nose and left scars on her arms. It didn't matter if her dark eyes now had a noticably odd look to them. None of it mattered, none of the scars mattered. Her tousled appearance could be instantly transformed with a bit of help from her old buddies. Sure, she was a former junkie, but a bit of rehab had gone a long way with her. She would still use the drugs if they were there - she wasn't inhuman, after all - but she didn't use 'em as much.
Yeah, it was the shooting up that had earned Syringe her title. And now, if it wasn't a con game, she always introduced herself as simply 'Syringe'. It could be anyone. In fact, Syringe used to work at a McDonald's, and for some reason the managers allowed themselves to call her Syringe, and allowed her to have her nametag say 'Syringe'. Of course, the McDonald's wasn't in a spectacular part of the city, so it wasn't exactly a big deal. But still, Syringe knew it wasn't very professional. But she couldn't help not recognizing her birth name as her own. She was now Syringe, and Syringe she would stay. Forget the first name, forget the middle name, forget the last name. Mia Belle Haddix was only for her professional persona. Syringe was her name.
Syringe glanced around a few more times before stepping up to the counter to order. She wanted some caffeine, and bad. Of course, one coffee wouldn't suffice. She'd go get some of them nasty, unhealthy energy drinks and down at least four of them. That wouldn't satisfy her, so she'd go hunting for one of her old drug dealers. See, Syringe knew she didn't really want caffeine, she knew what she wanted full well. But she didn't want to go get the drugs at that particular moment. She'd feel guilty. The caffeine, for some reason, only made her want the narcotics even more, and she'd go into a frenzy. If she could trigger one of those overwhelming desires for drugs, she wouldn't feel so bad about having them. And so, as she ordered a simple coffee with double cream, triple on the sugar, she only felt a twinge of guilt. She had odd ways of thinking, but her unusual way of thinking got her through the day. And that was all anyone could ask of her.
(lyrics from Disposable Teens by Marilyn Manson)
let me know if I need to change anything, or if it's not okay to play non-canon
