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Ira Thorn

"Cet endroit est l'enfer dans le deguisement!"

0 · 160 views · located in California

a character in “Thrown Away: Nevermore”, as played by RainbowFace

Description

Image

Ira Coris Thorn


Nicknames She's never been given one.

Gender: Female

Age:22

Height: 5'7

Build: Ira is on the chubby side, but she doesn't mind.

Sexual Orientation: Me? Well...I like both Genders. It really doesn't matter to me.

Personality: If you could pick any word to describe Ira, it would probably be "Peculiar" Between her mood swings, and "I don't care personality, she isn't the kind of person to be very "sociable". She seems to be stuck between two emotions, deadpan and terrified. She will often be monotone, without a care in the world (Literally). During these times, she will give the world a giant "Middle Finger", and tell it too "Fuck. OFF. Other times, she'll be constantly shaking, paranoid, and terrified of the world around her, often mumbling on about the "Monsters" (Later, she'll deny she ever did something like this, and refuse to tell people what the "Monsters" are.) Occasionally, Ira, will be a happy person, laughing and making jokes with others. She is rarely seen like this around people other than her sister or her Mother.

Ira is aware of her condition, but will refuse to tell anyone why she has been taken to the Nevermore Psychiatric Ward. She knows she is surrounded by people who are like her, but she will still refuse, only telling people whom she trusts completely. Over all, Ira sees the world in a different point of view than most people, no matter how much she hates it.

Ira doesn't remember much of "Hell", only that it is a horrid place. Her dreams (However scarce they may be), are often plagued by the few images she can recall of Hell, and the torture she went though while down there. If ever asked she will simply reply with "It's called hell for a reason.


Biggest Fear(s): Ira is terrified of Death, though she wouldn't admit it. She is also terrified of the "Monsters" that plague her mind, lingering just outside her line of sight.

Favorite/Worst memory Childhood

Favorite: When her little sister, Adrele was born.

Worst: When the doctors diagnosed her with Schizophrenia, and her mother began crying.


Reason(s) They Are In Nevermore: Schizophrenia, Chronic Insomnia

Theme Song(s):

~Le Festin - Camille
~Oh Comely - Neutral Milk Hotel


History: [i](Will Be added)

Appearance Extra: Ira has dark circle under eyes, caused by lack of sleep. Her teeth are crooked (but not overly so), and stained an off-white color due to her excessive smoking, and love for black coffee and tea. A small piercing circle around the top of her ear, in the cartilage. Her voice is light, yet mature, slightly slurred by her thick, prominent French accent. Her French will often mingle with her English, usually when she becomes upset or panicky.

Hometown Clamart, France. (A few miles outside of Paris)

Previous Job:Barista for her mother's coffee shop.

-OTHER- Ira is extremely attached to her mother, often calling her "Mommy", and other things of the sort.

Oh comely, I will be with you when you lose your breath,
Chasing the only meaningful memory you thought you had left.
With some pretty, bright and bubbly terrible scene
That was doing her thing on your chest.

But oh comely,
It isn't as pretty as you'd like to guess
In your memory, you're drunk on your autonomy.
It doesn't mean anything at all.

Oh comely,
All of your friends are all letting you blow,
Bristling and ugly, bursting with fruits falling out from the holes
Of some pretty, bright, and bubbly friend
You could need to say comforting things in your ear

But oh comely,
There isn't such one friend that you could find here.
Standing next to me,
He's only my enemy
I'll crush him with everything I own.

Say what you want to say
Hang for your hollow ways
Moving your mouth to pull out
All your miracles aimed for me.

So begins...

Ira Thorn's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Judius Thamian-Lee Thatcher Character Portrait: Ira Thorn
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Ira Thorn


A high-pitched, melodic sound rang through the stagnant, sterile-smelling air, cutting though it like a knife. The white walls surrounding Ira only echoed her words, making her voice resonate throughout the cell she was in. This encouraged her to only sing louder, wanting the guards to hear her rough voice. The difference in language often confused them, wondering what she was saying. Where they talking about them? Usually not. Rather than asking (Which, for the record, even if they asked Ira nicely, she wouldn't tell them. She enjoyed watching them squirm) her what she was singing, they usually yelled at her, often threatening her with trips to "Downstairs". Still, Ira sang anyway, often imagining they other cell-mates could hear her.

"Je revois la ville en fete et en delire
Suffoquant sous le soleil et sous la joie
Et j'entends dans la musique les cris, les rires
Qui eclatent et rebondissent autour de moi!
The french rolled off her tongue in an elegant manor, a result of her upbringing in France. Edith Piaf was one of her favorite singers, and it saddened her that the woman had died many years before her very own birth. Within minutes, as she expected, there was a guard knocking at her door. The door swung open and the man stepped in. Ira cringed noticeably, expecting the man to begin yelling. But he...didn't. He barely even looked at her. It looked like he was much more interested in the clipboard he was holding in his hand.

Ira...Thorn? He said, Ira nodded slowly before answering. "Oui? She said tentatively, scanning the man's face. He wasn't the normal guard, probably a newbie. The man looked up from his papers, glancing at her curiously. Instead of saying anything, he looked back down at the clipboard, forgetting her use of French in an instant.

'Say's here you're wanted out here. They want you to participate with the other. A confused expression crossed Ira's face, but she obliged anyway, allowing the tall man to lead her down the silent hallways, into a large, white room. Her mumbled something about how the others would be here shortly, and stepped out the door, locking it behind him. Sighing, Ira made her way to one of the plastic chair, plopping herself down into it. Like the man said, another patient entered within 5 minutes, led by a nurse dressed in an all-white dress. Ira vaguely recognized the man's face, but instead of introducing herself, watched him closely as he sat, his face grim.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Judius Thamian-Lee Thatcher Character Portrait: Ira Thorn
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Ira Thorn


'You're him, aren't you?" The faint words reached her ear, the voice barely over a whisper. Ira looked over to the only other person in a room, one whom seemed to be mumbling to himself. A confused expression was plastered across her face, but fell away just as fast as it had appeared.

"Non. I am not 'zis 'him' 'zat you speak of. If you could not tell, I am a woman. Ira muttered, her voice a practiced Monotone. Running a hand through her shaggy hair, Ira looked down at her feet, before looking up, glancing at the bare walls. The man was still muttering to himself, probably thinking that Ira couldn't hear him. The sound stopped abruptly, and Ira looked over to the man once more, finding him staring at her with wide eyes. Ira could see the paranoia and fear gleaming in his eyes, and Ira couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards the man. She had been like this once. Jittery and scared, feeling like everyone is out to get you. In all honestly, Ira would often fall into a dark place, and feel like the man did sometimes. It was only natural...for people like her.

"I am Ira, 'ze... Ira paused...thinking of a way to identify herself. Room numbers were practically useless, as they were not allowed to roam the hallways very often.

"I'm 'ze one who sings all day. Ira felt foolish for saying so, knowing that most people couldn't hear her during the day. "Who might you be?