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Vivian Nakani-Maisuradze

'Proper etiquette'? You mean that thing I wiped my ass with and tossed into the trash a LONG time ago?

0 · 167 views · located in MANSION LE~ KARUTARII

a character in “Proper Etiquette 101: Second Semester”, originally authored by Iye Khara, as played by ZoeyAutopsyx

Description

Name: Vivian Nakani-Maisuradze. And yes, plenty of people have great difficulty with her surname. Many find it easier to shorten it to simply 'Nakani', the more stomacheable of the two by a long shot, but this pisses her off to no end and she straight up refuses to allow it to be shortened. As far as she's concerned, 'Nakani' is the name of her parents and the name of her rich-ass family; she instead combines the maiden name of her mother, and that of her father. Another one of her biggest pet peeves is people thinking the name 'Nakani' is Japanese or that she's Japanese/half-Japanese in nature. She isn't. If you manage to get closer to her, you'll find you can call her Vivi--just don't call her Viv. It's an 'affectionate' name her parents used to use. She loathed it immensely.

Gender: Well, given the use of 'she' and 'her' throughout this profile, I should hope it's evident she's female. Of course, she does have several masculine physical features, and the way she acts is everything but feminine, but biologically she is, indeed, female.

Age: Vivian was born October 13, 1993, thus making her eighteen years old and about six or seven months old. As a result of her particularly mature facial features and towering, well-built stature, however, she is routinely mistaken to be as high as in her lower twenties. She has no problems with this.

Relationship Status: Besides the occasional one night tryst with whatever guy or girl catches Vivi's fancy at the time, her relationship status has always remained single--and not looking for any sort of committed relationship.

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Appearance:

In terms of appearance, people tend to find it difficult to determine Vivian’s ethnical background; indeed, it is generally guessed from her appearance that she is Japanese, which irritates her to no end because she isn’t even Asian. She’s ethnically Georgian, but the fact is that most people don’t even know what a Georgian looks like; it doesn’t really help that Georgians are extremely diverse in terms of appearance, with some resembling Asians, others appearing Hispanic, and some who could be mistaken to be Middle-Eastern. Ultimately, her appearance is reflective of her parents’ origins in Eastern Georgia.

At her full height, Vivian stands at about 193 cm tall (about six feet three inches), which is confessedly rather tall for a woman of Georgian descent (they're not known for being very tall), especially of her age, a fact she is well aware of. Height has always been characteristic of her, and she has, for as long as she cares to remember, always used it to her advantage. Similarly, her strong, firm build seems atypical for a woman—lean, powerful muscles are visible across her arms and abdomen, indicative of considerable upper body strength; she maintains her strength through a daily exercise routine, so that nobody gets the impression that she’s weak (and of course, y'know, so that she isn't weak. Her stature is wide and heavy, weighing in at 186 pounds, with wide-held, firm shoulders and an aggressive forward lean in just about everything she does.

Vivian could not necessarily be objectively called an attractive woman. Rather, you could say there are remnants of what might have once been a natural beauty of sorts scattered in her face--but the years have done their work and taken their toll on what could have been prior beauty now fled in the face of smokes, alcohol, stress, anger, and the simple but decimating passage of merciless time. And so she is not beautiful by any objective standard of the word, and she certainly was never 'cute', not by the implications of that word. Sharp, defined features grace a long, dark countenance; high, prominent cheekbones carve out a significant portion of the features, surrounding a small, slightly pointed nose (that's evidently been broken one or two or three times in the past, but the past is the past), under which rest thin, dark lips ungraced by any artificial colouring or lipstick, or by any smile, often pulled into a discontent scowl, or the occasional smirk. Her hair, on the other hand, in its natural state, is a lustrous black sheen, straight in tendency and falling to around her chest; however, Vivi has never let her hair remain in its natural state. For about a year, starting from around the age of fourteen, Vivian proudly wore a towering mohawk (not so tall it ended up looking outright retarded, but she was still pretty proud of its stature) which she would sometimes split into liberty spikes. She kept that until she was about fifteen and a half, when she shaved it off, let her hair grow out, and styled it into the dreadlocks she has maintained since then. She also dyes her dreadlocks with an amalgamation of red, yellow, and orange intermixed with the black. Due to her longterm altering of her hair, the lustrous black has dulled to a faded sort of black tone, and has taken on a frizzy sort of texture if left natural. In direct contrast, her eye colour is something quite rare for someone of Georgian descent: her eyes are a darkish green, often surrounded by the dark rings of her insomniac tendencies.

The entirety of her upper body is covered in tattoos, of various kinds. The most readily apparent, and largest one, would be the Motörhead War Pig across her back, adorned with bullets, chains, spikes, and the name of the band itself in arching letters over it. Many are related to Egyptian mythology, which is a passion of hers; examples include the large, flaming ankh on her left bicep, an Eye of Horus on the back of each hand, and an Uraeus on her lower back. Other tattoos relate to her favourite bands, such as another Motörhead War Pig on her right bicep, or the Obituary tattoo across her right forearm; she also has one of Death's original logo (in red) at her collarbone, Deicide's '666' on the bicep above her Obituary tattoo, amongst smaller ones. And some of her other tattoos are, to be frank, simply rather gruesome in nature. For example, she has one across her lower left ribcage of a grievous wound, exuding crimson blood, revealing metallic rib bones (also, as it were, dripping copiously with blood); it’s rather similar to this, except, as said, with metal bones instead of...bone...bones. She has another spanning the upper right portion of her back just beside the War Pig and running all the way down the back of her right arm, depicting a corpse wrapped in what looks like spiderwebs hanging from a tree of tormented skulls and faces that extends down her arm, eventually devolving into a mass of skulls set against brimstone and blood, an inverted cross on the nape of her neck and an inverted pentagram that looks like it has been carved into the flesh of her shoulder. The first tattoo she ever got was a tattoo of the Georgian letters for 'ert'i' ('one') tattooed across the knuckles of her right hand; she did it herself when she was thirteen years old with a sewing needle and thread and pencil lead.

What's that you say, something about her going overboard with the tattoos? She can't hear you over the multitude of fucks she does not give. She got them not only because...well, she loves tattoos, but because her parents are absolutely horrified by them. And no matter what restrictions they attempt to place and what measures they take, right down to completely moving to a location where they thought you'd never find a tattoo artist, Vivian mysteriously showed up at home proudly displaying the latest 'artwork' she'd gotten. Interspersed amongst the tattoos are a legion of scars, each claiming various origins, most of them from fights she's gotten into over her life--including knife fights.

In terms of attire, Vivian gravitates towards typical metalhead/crust punk fare. You'll usually find her wearing a band tee with the sleeves torn off, showcasing any one of her favourite groups from Motörhead to Phobia, Death to Nile, Napalm Death to Carcass. Over this, she will invariably wear a favoured leather 'battle jacket' or 'cut-off' (ie a leather jacket with the sleeves removed), adorned with all kinds of punk and metal patches, and covered in studs and spikes squaring at the back around a patch of Napalm Death's bar-code skull. As far as her lower body, Vivian often dons a pair of good old durable jeans (often with one or two tears in them, because she can't be arsed to go buy new ones when it happens...and because tears are totally heavy metal) and then a pair of leather harness boots. She tops the image off with a copper bullet belt (in essence, a belt made of gunpowder-less casings worn around the waist, popular with punks and metalheads), spiked wrist bands, and chains, perfecting an image of someone most people wanna steer clear of. She'd have it no other way.
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Unique Feature: Well, if you couldn't gather as much from everything above, there's quite a bit that makes her....pretty noticeable. If it isn't the multicoloured dreadlocks, the metal-covered battle jacket, or the bullet belt slung around her waist, then it'll probably be her towering, muscular stature, her subtle but noticeable accent, or her plethora of tattoos...or, perhaps, her dark green eyes, which contrary to just about everything about the rest of her, are actually quite beautiful.

Personality: Vivian is not someone who can easily be defined or judged, because she is fiercely averse to attempts to understand her. She is abrasive, irascible, passionate, liable to burn you if you get too close--but far more complex beneath the surface than what at first meets the eye. She's a difficult woman to get along with, but even harder to really understand. Rough, fierce, and stubborn at best, cruel, callous, and violent at worst, she tosses about swear words and curses as casually as adjectives and verbs, and she’ll turn a verbal disagreement painfully physical at the drop of a dime simply out of what she perceives as a need to protect her pride and dignity. Her sense of humour is dry and sardonic, with a heavy dose of pessimism, and sometimes insulting to those around her if they aren’t used to her biting sarcasm in the first place. Vivian is also highly averse to anything she perceives as an attempt to control her or attempt to 'help' her, as she is a fiercely independent and self-reliant woman and believes there is nothing she can't do on her own if she decides it's what she wants to do--which seems at odds with her severe addiction to cigarettes and alcohol. In general, however, she just doesn't come off as a nice person. Her aggressive demeanour can make her come off as a bully, her tendency to become sullen and unhappy at one point and violently headstrong at another can throw people off, and she's as impulsive and fiery a delinquent as most people never want to meet.

Beneath this however can be found a rather different persona. A persona that is far more vulnerable and conflicted than Vivian would like for anyone to see on the surface. For one thing, she is extremely ashamed of her wealthy heritage. She believes that she can never claim to have 'made herself' because of her family's affluence, that she cannot create a life for herself because somehow that affluence will always be hanging over her head no matter how much she spurns it. At this point, she utterly and vehemently refuses to accept any money from her parents, and has been self-sufficient for many years, working for herself (at a local bookstore), buying everything she owns for herself--and yet she still feels that her parents' opulence has ruined her. Moreover is the fact that Vivi has never had a friend who stayed with her for longer than...well, a very short period of time. For some reason, across Vivian's entire life, every friend she ever made eventually drifted away from her, severed relations with her, was forced to leave, died, have used her...she has never kept a friend, and this unfortunate trend has caused Vivi to avoid making friends at all. Her abrasive and wholly unpredictable personality mirrors her fear of personal pain and abandonment--Vivian has convinced herself that if she keeps others at arm’s length with her wild and aggressive attitude, she can avoid making connections, and thereby the pain of the inevitable severance of those connections. She has come to fear the pain of losing those she loves and cherishes, and believes that by avoiding true friendship and love she can remain untouched by this grief.

Unusual Markings: I've already described her legion of tattoos and scars. Nothing much more to say on that.

Virtues: Vivian's virtues...first to rank amongst these would be her strength. Dedicated as she is to physical strength through ceaseless work-out and also the fights she incessantly gets into, often deliberately, Vivian is an extremely strong woman. Additionally, though she may not look like it at all, Vivian is surprisingly intelligent--her predilection for books, one which few predict of her, has granted her an immense database of knowledge. It's hard to do, but should you gain her trust, Vivian's loyalty will never abate, and you're hard-pressed to find someone more willing to go to any length to exact retribution if she thinks you have been wronged. She has a more or less indomitable will in everything she does, and will refuse to back down in just about any situation (which is just as often a drawback).

Faults: Vivian has many faults, but perhaps foremost is the fact that she is an emotional and psychological wreck. Despite her stubborn willpower and physical strength, Vivi, plagued with alcohol and drug difficulties, consumed with guilt and hatred over her wealthy heritage, overwhelmed with fear of personal connection and friendship but consequently wrought with loneliness, is at an emotional breaking point. Consciously or unconsciously, she finds life now to be little more than a drag, and thus is losing enjoyment even in the things she loves most, such as music and books. Vivi's abrasive, sharp-edged demeanour makes her nearly impossible to get along with by any standards, and her mistrust of almost everyone she meets doesn't help that at all. As said above, she is about as pig-headed a person as you will ever meet, and she will literally never admit defeat, whether it's a fight or an argument, even if she's wrong and knows it. As a consequence of her years of self-imposed solitude and hostility towards others, Vivian absolutely terrible at dealing with any feelings she has towards others--and any feelings others have towards her. Things such as love and affection flat-out confuse and scare her, and if she were to feel love towards someone, it's highly likely that, confused and fearful of what it could possibly lead to, she would shut that person out and try to crush those feelings out. She's also pretty bad at handling subtle feelings or situations, since all her life she's dealt with feelings and problems by simply shunning them, or reacting to them with overkill.

Likes: Vivi is a straight-up metalhead with a passion for metal and punk music. And when she says metal and punk, she sure as hell ain't referring to that poser bullshit like nu metal and metalcore (I'm lookin' at you, Avenged Sevenfold and Slipknot), or 'faux-punk' (I'd be lookin' at you, Green Day and Blink-182, but I'll spare myself the eyesore). When she says metal, she means fucking metal. Anything from the deathgrind of Cenotaph and Carcass, grindcore in the vein of Napalm Death and Assück, the technical death metal of Death and Suffocation, straight up death metal like Deicide and Nile, the thrash metal stylings of Megadeth and Slayer, classic heavy metal such as Judas Priest and Motörhead, hard rock legends such as Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, crust punk in the vein of Doom and Gallhammer...hell, even jazz and blues, such as Art Blakey, Weather Report, Miles Davis, and BB King. She listens to it all, most of it (in particular, the metal and the punk) at outrageous volumes that make people wonder how the hell it is she hasn't gone deaf yet.

And in addition, Vivian enjoys reading. Much to the surprise of most people who take her for little more than a mindless, violent metalhead, in point of fact, Vivi can claim to have run through the works of Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Steinbeck, Orwell, Kerouac, and Wells, reading in depth into every book she comes across; she largely prefers reading with a basis in exploring the human nature of the characters, their psyches, or discussion of philosophical concepts, since she enjoys pondering such subjects. You'll often find her, cigarette in hand, headphones buried into her ears blasting Deicide's 'Trifixion' at outrageous volume, dark eyes scanning intently over the pages of a Murakami novel. On which note, she's remarkably good at passive multi-tasking, which is what enables her to listen to music and read at the same time without being distracted fully one from the other. Hell knows how she does it, but that's how it is.

Besides that, she seems to rather enjoy alcohol and cigarettes (well, obviously, she doesn't enjoy them...but, well, she's addicted to them). Not much else, really. To her, life is her music, her books, and her drugs. Take all those away from her, and she realises there isn't much for her in life.

Oh, and she loves swearing.

Dislikes: Oh, well now we're getting into something that Vivian could go on for years and years about. Let's try to shorten the list just a bit before she goes off about everything from the abomination that is the cherry pie (god how she hates those horrific things) to how goddamn annoying the colour yellow is (seriously, whose fucking idea was that disgusting fucking colour?).

First things first. Vivian hates her heritage. Her wealthy background, her posh family, her overbearing, manners-obsessed parents, all of it. But I've already gone into detail about that above. But I will say that the only reason she's agreed to this (because like hell she'd be going if she didn't really want to) is to get away from her parents once and for all. She's fairly certain once she gets to this 'Proper Etiquette' place, she'll just steamroll right over everyone else and do whatever the fuck she wants. Hell, she's run away from home countless times before (only to be tracked down and returned to her parents by the authorities, much to her rage). She figures here, it won't be much different.

Vivian hates hates hates hates hates shitty music. Now, what constitutes shitty music, you ask? First and foremost, as said above, poser metal. Nu metal and metalcore, shit that's watered down for assholes who can't take the force of real metal (all that, of course, being her own words). And don't even mention deathcore, that eldritch abomination masquerading as 'extreme metal'. She thinks they're making a shitty, accessible form of 'metal' to feed to idiotic emo teenagers who don't know jack shit about real metal and giving metal a bad name. Besides that, she loathes rap and pop music, as well as alternative rock, and should you turn it on in her presence, she'll...well, she won't react well.

Ignorant people grate on Vivi's nerves. So do people who call her out on her callous behaviour or tendency to be a bit hypocritical at times. She has an inherent tendency to rebel against authority when it tries to exert control over her, which explains her apparent distaste for institutions such as the police or politics. And, given how independent and self-reliant she (does her best to look like she) is, Vivi hates it when people try to help her, especially if said people happen to be related to her. She loathes nuts. Dresses, skirts, and make-up are repulsive to her. The very concept of flip-flops makes her want to hurl (including the name of them...flip-flops? Really? Read that over a couple of times and tell me it doesn't sicken you).

But these are all largely trivial dislikes (okay, so she gets pretty angry over music, but that aside). But there's one thing she truly hates--and that's liars. Liars, traitors, backstabbers. The worst of her considerable hatred goes out to them, people who incur unendurable harm on those around them, manipulate and use them, without a thought for the damage they are doing.

Fears: Vivian fears above all being abandoned or betrayed by those she trusts--it's her one most crippling fear in life, the one that stands in the way of her ever attaining happiness in life. She can't interact with anyone without feeling that if she gets too close to them, they'll hurt her by leaving, whether of their own accord or due to circumstances outside of her or their control--ie, death. More information under personality, I guess. Other than that, Vivi is honestly a rather fearless woman. She claims that she has nothing to fear from anybody, because ultimately everyone is human and that means they're as weak and vulnerable as the next person.

Theme songs (because I'm an indecisive bastard and couldn't pick one):

Theme Song
I don't mean to dwell
But I can't help myself
When I feel the vibe
And taste a memory
Of a time in life
When years seemed to stand still

I close my eyes
And sink within myself
Relive the gift of precious memories
In need of a fix called innocence

When did it begin?
The change to come was undetectable
The open wounds expose the importance of
Our innocence
A high that can never be bought or sold

Symbolic acts - so vivid
Yet at the same time
Were invisible

Savor what you feel and what you see
Things that may not seem important now
But may be tomorrow

Do you remember when
Things seemed so eternal?
Heroes were so real...
Their magic frozen in time
The only way to learn
Is be aware and hold on tight

I close my eyes
And sink within myself
Relive the gift of precious memories
In need of a fix called innocence

When did it begin?
The change to come was undetectable
The open wounds expose the importance of
Our innocence
A high that can never be bought or sold

Symbolic acts - so vivid
Yet at the same time
Were invisible

Other Other Theme Song (or, Painkiller really needs to make up his friggin' mind)
To dissect the mind impaled of visions a delusional
state from which one neglects
Incise the flesh with delicate precision
as to not disrupt such artistry

To dominate a feild of iniquity undeserving of many.
One must realize a painful demise deeds of tranquility.
Inflicting misery, an instrument of morbidity thrust deep on you.
Conflicted desires will transpire justify what's right.
Impaled upon a structure dear to you
Blood soaked hands drip insistently
Organs deemed venemous to you
Surgery of impalement

The blood drips from my hands
Your flesh is warm upon my face
Impaled with a collection of sickness
To desire that what you recieve

Impaled upon a structure dear to you
Blood soaked hands drip insistently
Organs deemed venemous to you
Surgery of impalement

Other Theme Song[/size]
The black cloud gathers, smothers my brain
as I cry another tear in this struggle of pain
another hurdle to clear is it all the same?
Is the conquest of pain my only aim?

The pain has got to stop, it's eating into me
my apathy upholds this misery
this hatred for myself will destroy me
if I don't start to give it the love it needs

Have you ever realised you must love yourself
if you don't how can you love anybody else?
Nobody can reach you through your personal hell
you'll just eat yourself away in your tortured shell.

So begins...

Vivian Nakani-Maisuradze's Story