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Melisande Roda

Come away lass, come away to the water...

0 · 188 views · located in The Cabins

a character in “The Extras Game”, as played by Missie


Melisande Roda


Age: 17

Description of appearance: I touch the sky, paint it with my long fingers. The stars are mine. What I mean by that is that you’ll notice that I’m very slim and tall. Like most extras I don’t get anywhere near the amount of food that a 17-year-old girl would need to eat in order to stay healthy, hence the frail figure. But unlike most extras, I am freakishly tall. This can be quite a nuisance and it’s not necessarily a good thing for hiding. My face has sometimes been described like a starving wild animal’s, hollow but also filled with a determination to hunt. I’m painfully skinny, and my pale flesh seems to cling on to any bone it can find. You are not a princess, my mother reminded me. My hair has and always will be an undetermined colour. Always undetermined, like me. As I am not a princess, my hair isn’t perfect. It hangs on my shoulders in light waves or just plain straight. My eyes. Well lets see, they’re small and green like marble and not worth looking at. That saying stands for the rest of me as well.

Not worth even looking at.

I’m a listener rather than a talker. I’ve always sat back and listened to other people, tried to help them where I could. I’m not shy, but that’s okay. Most people don’t say much, when they have so many other things in their life to worry about. People find me interesting, though I will never quite understand why. Once someone musters up the courage to come talk to the “strange” tall girl, they are usually quite surprised to find I’m very much like them, only nicer. But in no way am I just trying to earn myself brownie points with all this nice crap. I just wanted to get the nice stuff out of the way. I could just stand here and ramble off a list of things I hate about myself, things other people hate about me, but imagine how boring that would be. So I'll give you the basics. There is a deep, dark layer to me, and it always manages to resurface, usually on a daily basis. Often I have emotional, physical and mental breakdowns for no reason at all. It’s not something I can help. I’ve been like this ever since I can remember. Sometimes I just feel so trapped inside of me, trying to find a way out, but without much success. The worst thing is the unpredictability. Just like me, never knowing what I will do next, you never know when these breakdowns will strike. It’s hard admitting I have a problem, and my fiery nature goes very well with my strangeness, but unfortunately it always seems to get me into fights. I might not have desribed my self very well, so I'll give you something I've never given any one before, my diary. It survived the woods, somehow:

A p o n d
I'm shallow, but unlike the swimming waters of a lake eyes can not peer in to the depths of my shallow pond. Some might tentatively dip their toes in, for they know shallow water is safe. Safe to touch, except for a slight feeling of cold. I am not this kind of pond. The shallow waters where most do not fear are a death trap, and swimming in the deep is just as deadly as the shallows.

A w o l f
I am hungry for no reason. I hate them. My green eyes were never vibrant, but now they’re cold. No sign of humanity lingers, leaving room for the bad. Hate, anger, depression. I felt them all at once, like a tsunami. Tears that no one cared about fell off my face. I stayed like that for days. I needed something. Someone.

A b o o k
My pages have not been read for a long time, they are forgotten. I’m sure she has never actually forgotten me. I am a mere thought in her small brain, lingering. I am a closed book. A tarnished book, ripped by the fingers of society. Damaged at such young age that I am beyond repair, and returning me would cause more problems. The words in my book were once written with a flourish, out of naivety. They are written in invisible ink now. I am hidden from the world. They think I’m an empty book.

I h a v e g i v e n u p
I don’t want to hide anymore! Life is precious though mine is apparently not. I am tired of writing my pages invisibly, I dream of living in another world. A world of fairytales. Mother called them false hope for me- an extra. I would never be happy. Life would ebb out of me like an hourglass. They would find me, I need to do it.

I must enter


I am an extra. I ran from home many moons ago. I lived in the woods, surviving on barely anything. My soul was hollowed out quickly, leaving a desperate ghost hanging on to whatever she had, if anything. My mother and father were evil in their own ways. My mother was a skeleton herself, she had a sickness- Bulimia. She was hardly a mother to me (or even my older sister, for that matter) but my father was an idiot. Plain and simple. They got a bit carried away, and birthed me. The devil child. They hid me until I was old enough. And then they left me. It was fun at the start. I thought it was a game, They’d come back for me. When I realised that would not happen I became resourceful, I threw knives. They landed on the targets after a bit of practice . I could also make them. But that was before the breakdown.I entered The Game after

Skills and strengths:
  • Aim
  • Able to not eat for periods of time
  • Lived in Wilderness
  • Stamina

  • Unable to hide/ Tall
  • Close combat
  • Emotionally unstable
  • Cant run extremely fast (but has stamina)


So begins...

Melisande Roda's Story