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Claire Rhodes

0 · 536 views · located in New York

a character in “Beyond the Veil”, as played by spayce

Description

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Full Name

Claire Rhodes

Nicknames

Caty

Occupation

Artist

Dead or Alive?

Dead.

Birthday (and Deathday if applicable)

March 1, 1900-October 31st, 1922

Sexuality

heterosexual

Residence

Condo 7, 3rd Floor

Age

22

Height

5'7

Weight

125 lbs




"You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but a the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you."
— Wm. Paul Young





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Personality


Claire is in her own world, and has trouble finding her feet in the severity of reality. She is spun by longings and internal conflict. She drifts through the motions of reality, distracted by fantasy and the urge to escape actuality. She can experience intense joy in the midst of a loving environment or a creative outlet; and on the contrary -extreme mood swings and tactile hallucinations. She keeps what is going on inside her head hidden away from everyone else. Any time Claire feels threatened by boundaries or violations she will quickly attempt an escape.


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Likes||Dislikes


+
+insects
+trees
+being alone
+drinking
+smoking
+seeing someone's breath in the cold
+daydreaming
+music
+
-
-technology
-money
-guilt
-feeling out of control
-therapy
-fear
-ribcages
-nausea
-


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Fears||Weaknesses


X
X the weight of responsibility
X personal instinctive behavior
X codependency
*
* counterdependancy
* panic
*adjusting to change


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Skills


Claire's skills lie in her ability to express herself through pictures and drawings. She paints portraits of the people she loves.




"We’re both looking at the same moon, in the same world. We’re connected to reality by the same line. All I have to do is quietly draw it towards me."
— Haruki Murakami





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History


Placid and easygoing as a child and teenager, she became increasingly assertive in her personality. When she was 7, an older male cousin living in their home sexually abused her. Her father was aware that this happened, but kept it a secret to save the family's reputation. When she began to have manic episodes and show symptoms of bi polar disorder, her mother and father arranged for her to stay at a mental institution. She studied hard for four years, but when she arrived home she felt she disappointed her parents, whom she wanted to please.
Claire graduated high school and became a critically acclaimed artist. She was seeing lots of men, but Jamie Rhodes was the first to turn her stomach in knots. She disregarded her friend's doubts that Jamie and Claire would stay happy in a monogamous relationship, and accepted his marriage proposal quickly. She was never open to him about her past, and tried to suppress her intense mood swings and feelings. One night Claire and Jamie got into a particularly heated argument. The more aggressive Jamie became, the more out of control Claire began to feel. She was overcome with sudden panic. The house was bitter and the cool air pulled across her skin, making every hair on her body stand up. She grabbed the gun sitting on his desk, and shot him in the head, twice. She stood in the middle of the room shivering, her tongue swollen in fear. She dragged his body to the middle of the room, held his hand and then shot herself lying next to him.



Christina Ricci ||

So begins...

Claire Rhodes's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lillian Woodward Character Portrait: Jamie Rhodes Character Portrait: Claire Rhodes
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The backyard of his house was wonderful this time of year. Well, technically, it was Claire's home, for he had built it as a gift to her. But, they were both trapped here in this hellhole, so it was his home just as much as it was hers. White flakes dusted the aged patio furniture and the ornate stone walkway that circled from the front of the house to the back. Jamie still remembered when it had been placed years and years before. His non-beating heart felt as if it were being torn from his body when the modern machines rolled across the grass to dig up the lawn. This was his masterpiece, and it was trashed by the new occupants. Jamie hadn't mourned for a second when the father fell down the stairs the winter after building the patio and died.

Sprawled across the ebony chaise in the living room, Jamie let out a slow, dejected sigh. His lanky right arm draped down on to the floor where he swirled a tumbler of scotch and soda slowly in a clockwise rotation. He had been this way for an hour or so. At least, that was what he thought. Time dragged along sloth-like nowadays. What was the purpose of waking up anymore, really? In a painfully slow manner, Jamie raised the glass to his lips and sipped it slowly. He was usually quite melodramatic when hungover, or rather, he was melodramatic when he believed he was hungover. He hadn't suffered a hangover in ages.

The pounding in his head threatened to burst his skull. With a loud grunt, Jamie sat himself up and pulled his knees to his chest. For a few seconds, the tycoon shoved his head between his knees to try and shelter his sensitive eyes from the sunlight. But he'd caught a glimpse of the snow laying in a thin layer on the yard outside and quickly looked up, all thoughts of a hangover gone. Like a child, Jamie draped his arms over the back of the chaise and rested his chin on his hands as he longingly looked outside. New York City would be beautiful with this snowfall. Well, the New York he remembered. A reminiscent smile crossed his lips, lingered for a little, and then faded. No use in crying over spilt milk, right? That was his father's mantra and it had been burned into Jamie's mind since he was a boy.

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"Claire!" he suddenly shouted, not even sure if his wife was still in their condo. "I'm going out!" Why was he even saying it? It wasn't like she cared where he went, or when he went out. Besides, he couldn't really go any further than half a block or so. With his glass of scotch and soda in hand, Jamie stood and exited the condo. Slowly, he closed the door behind himself. She most likely would not believe him. He rarely even set foot on the other floors of the "Murder House". He hated that name. Murder House. It was a vulgar name for a place he loved so dearly. Sure, it had been the location of its fair share of deaths, but it made all of the occupants, even him, sound like morbid serial killers. It was certainly not the impression he wanted to leave on the world.

Walking softly, Jamie crossed the hall and rapped his knuckles against the door of the opposite condo. "Lil?" he called softly, turning his back to her door to watch in case Claire came out after him. "You in there...?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jamie Rhodes Character Portrait: Claire Rhodes
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#, as written by spayce
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Claire crossed the day off the calendar in their bedroom as soon as she slipped into her light blue dress and lace stockings.
She sat down in the small chair (bought and paid for with her own money) beside the window, closed her eyes, and swept all the clutter of her conscious thoughts from her mind. It was like sweeping a floor. Lift the rug of your subconscious and sweep the dirt under. Good-bye. She opened her eyes and looked out the window. A bumblebee flew towards her, and hit the glass. She giggled and wondering how it's tiny wings could carry it's fat little body. Her eyes followed Oliver standing by Caleb and Sara, then shut the curtains quickly.
When she saw Oliver it brought back memories of her years of therapy she had been in since she was twelve. She used to depend on narcotic drugs and her psychologist to take responsibility of her mental health, but now it felt like she had no one to depend on. She stopped going to therapy when she was in her twenties, and things began to fall apart in her mind. After death things were beginning to feel strange again, like little bridges of anxiety building inside of her, that her child's world was about to collapse
"Claire!" Jamie shouted. "I'm going out!"
Claire was silent. She crouched on the staircase, waiting for him to leave. After death, the sound of Jamie's voice was like ripping off a scab and feeling the blood rush to the surface again. She knew that when Jamie needed an escape he used Lillian. Dislike rose in her throat like a paper snake. She was sick of ghosts and strangers that couldn't hold her when she wanted the warmth of another being.