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I am aware this is a lengthy, long, detailed introduction. Please stick with me! You need all this information! I don't care if you skim it or read every word and tell me what grammar and spelling issues I have...just don't skip it, please.

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“I can’t believe Mr. Kempler is having us read stupid Shakespeare!” My best friend, Jasmine, yelled loudly into her microphone in her Xbox 360. We had been playing Call of Duty 3, one of my favorite games, all day. The TV had multiple layers of video games stacked on it, precariously, which jiggled each time my controller vibrated. It was often, seeing as it was Call of Duty 3. The house was a rather disgusting dump, except my room, which I kept as neat as I could. My brown hair fell over my shoulder when I leaned forward to stabilize the video game cases with the arm that wasn’t in a cast. Gah! I hate playing video games in this! I love it when my dad is out drinking all day and just leaves me alone.

It’s when he comes back I’m scared.

“Cool it Jaz,” My other friend, Nathalie, said with a sigh. “I mean how bad can it be?” She asked. I hope they’ll remember; I’ve been having a very sucky birthday. Sunlight poured through the cracked window and uneven blinds, hitting the floor in stripes and illuminating the beer stains on the carpet and cigarette burns on the couch. Now if only I could be that poetic in language arts class… “Very! Shakespeare will destroy our minds!” Even the game systems seemed to be gross. Slightly sticky, won’t close right so I have to put stuff on top to weigh it down, and a burnt edge to the single controller. “You’re exaggerating,” I drifted off, thinking, and eventually reaching the topic of how tomatoes are really fruit somehow. “Des? Deseray. DESERAY LYRA!” Jasmine screamed. I’d zoned out somewhat. Where’s Dameian when I need him? I jolted and returned to reality, convincing myself that all I needed to do was stay alive for two more years and not end up in a wheelchair. I tapped my cast softly, which only had two names on it: Nathalie and Jasmine. Maybe I could join the circus. At least there they’d either feed me or pay me. Jasmine logged off with a quick goodbye, explaining that her mom had just got home, sounding rather bored and nonchalant. Jasmine only had her mom, her dad had divorced her due to Jasmine’s little sister being a tiny stranger, if you know what I mean. Nathalie had both parents, but three older siblings and a little brother who broke a bone every other month. I didn’t interact with them much, so I only really remember names vaguely, and my headache did not allow me the ability to think of them. “My parents just got home too. See ya!” Nathalie said, and with that final ‘See ya!’ from her, I was alone. Well, more alone. They were both lucky, unlike me with my alcoholics anonymous avoiding dad and my mom somewhere out in the world, running away from her problems. My older brother Dameian was the one who took care of me most of the time. That is, he did when he was home from college. He was lucky too. At least his birth had been planned. Me? I was fifteen, around 5”2’, different, and an accident. I was lucky on one thing though; I had popular friends. I sighed and went into the kitchen, getting ready to chow on triple chocolate ice cream until I was high on happy endorphins. I was wearing thick socks, like I usually do when I’m home, just in case I step in something gross.

“Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me,” I sang dejectedly to myself. Not even my oh-so-amazingly-popular best friends remembered. I shook my head, opened the fridge and took out a soda and went back into my room, realizing that I used all the ice cream as happy pills yesterday. I opened the soda and took a long drink. I set it down and walked over to my large stack of CDs, digging through I finally found what I wanted: my favorite scream-o band CD. Popping it in I turned it up as high as I could until it drowned out my thoughts, which was exactly what I wanted at that very moment. I knew that scream-o was the better choice here than emo; emo music would make me think seriously about suicide. “Deseray! Get your ass down here! DESERAY!” He screamed. I ran downstairs and slid to a stop a few feet away from him. His brown hair was in a state of disarray, tie hung around his neck untied; face stubbly, clothing falling down in every area. His eyes were completely dilated, and were seriously bloodshot, with shadows that made him look like an asylum member or convict more than usual. “What the hell is this?!” He asked thrusting my report card in my face. A big black C sat right after all my classes. “My report card, sir,” I said trying not to let the fear I felt seep into my voice. He moved towards me menacingly. I fought the urge to run, hide in my room and lock the door. Not that it would do anything- he would just break down the door anyway and beat me harder. “And why the hell is it all C’s?” He yelled, spraying spit that was nearly completely dissolved into a mix of saliva, vodka and beer into my face. “I missed some school when you... when I fell off the stairs and broke my arm,” I said gesturing slightly to the brace on my arm that reached from my elbow to my wrist. “Shouldn’t you have made up the goddamned assignments then?” Darren was closer now. His eyes were dilated so much that there were practically no irises now. Rather demonic, if you can imagine. Nearly a minute after that thought the first hit came. I knew I was being hit continuously, because I could see him still, but he hit my head first, and I was pretty sure I was concussed. I watched in horror, and only blacked out once he got me so hard in the eye that my head drove into the floor so it bounced back up.
That’s how I spent my seventeenth birthday. Happy birthday to me.

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Yes, the introduction is over, you can calm down now. Well, after that Deseray was sent away to a boarding school by her older brother, who thought it would be best for her to start over. Her older brother had her name legally changed to Lyra Miller so that no one would recognize her.

So, where did he send her to school? St. Victors School for the Emotionally Broken. St. Victors is in the middle of no where, in the far away, secluded countryside of France. Deseray, now Lyra, Miller will meet many strange people, and maybe even a few people who can help her cope. St. Victors is a permanent home, that meaning that you aren't released at 18, but wen the doctors clear you, or when the person who put you there pulls you out.

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All right! Now we can get to the fun part! I know you all hate really long introductions with no pictures, but it's picture time! Yes, time for the characters!

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Girl 1, the new kid||Lyra Miller||Age: 17||Damage: Abusive Father||Length at St. Victors: 4 days||American||Status: Taken by DyslexicAngel713||FC: Nina Dobrev


Girl 2, the rule breaker||________ Thomas||Age: 17||Damage:____________||Length at St. Victors: 2 years||English||Status: Open||FC: Natalie Dormer


Girl 3, the baby sister||________ Breauker||Age: 15||Damage:____________||Length at St. Victors: 5 years||French||Status: ShadowedxLove||FC: Chloe Mortez


Girl 4, the big sister||________ Breauker||Age: 16||Damage:____________||Length at St. Victors: 5 years||French||Status: Hallowed777||FC: Dakota Fanning


Girl 5, the oldest||__________ O'Connoley||Age: 19||Damage:____________||Length at St. Victors: 8 years||Irish||Status: bracefacebeauty||FC: Blake Lively


Boy 1, goodie goodie||__________ Holland||Age: 14||Damage: ____________||Length at St. Victors: 3 years||Australian||Status: Open||FC: CJ Adams


Boy 2, the bad boy||___________ Magnus||Age: 19||Damage: _____________||Length at St. Victors: 6 years||Dutch||Status: dreamingreality||FC: Heath Ledger


Boy 3, the escape artist||__________ Anderson||Age: 21||Damage: __________||Length at St. Victors: 9 years||Canadian||Status: Open||FC: Matthew Gray Gubler


Boy 4, the loner||____________ Janowski||Age: 17||Damage:___________||Length at St. Victors: 6 months||Polish||Status: Open||FC: Eddie Redmayne


Boy 5, the artist||_____________ Isenburg||Age: 19||Damage: ____________||Length at St. Victors: 10 months||German||Status: Open||FC: Aaron Tveit

Code: Select all

[center][img]Fontmeme for name[/img]
[img]Tall Picture[/img]
[i][size=150]Personal Quote[/size][/i][/center]

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[b]Face claim:[/b]
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Nickname:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Sexuality:[/b]
[b]Hometown:[/b]

[b]Likes:[/b] At least five
[b]Dislikes:[/b] At least five
[b]Fears:[/b] At least three
[b]Quirks:[/b] If any
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[right][img]Picture/Gif[/img]
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[b]Weaknesses:[/b]
[b]Strengths:[/b]

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[left][img]Picture/Gif[/img][/left]
[b]Personality:[/b] A decent paragraph or two please.
[b]History:[/b] Again a decent paragraph or two.
[b]Emotional Damage:[/b] Again, a decent paragraph
[b]Other:[/b] Anything else you want to add.[/center]

No godmodding
Be nice
Have fun
Blah Blah Blah, lets get on to the actual rules ya'll care about
Post Minimum: 200 words per character
Character Minimum: 1
Character Maximum: 4
Must have both sex character if multiple characters
FC's are negotaible, ask me please
OOC reserves last 24 hours unless you discuss it with me otherwise
Follow the Character Skeleton provided