![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
☀ application
Name: Aest
Email: aestasbeyond[at]gmail[dot]com
AIM: aestas beyond
LJ name:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aestas
Timezone: EST (GMT -5:00)
-THEM-
Character name: Rose Lalonde
Series: Homestuck
Character history: Character Biography and Canon Overview @ MSPA Wiki.
Character personality: Your name is ROSE. You have a variety of INTERESTS. You have a passion for RATHER OBSCURE LITERATURE. You enjoy creative writing and are SOMEWHAT SECRETIVE ABOUT IT. You have a fondness for the BESTIALLY STRANGE AND FICTITIOUS, and sometimes dabble in PSYCHOANALYSIS. You also like to KNIT, and your room is a BIT OF A MESS. And on occasion, if just the right one strikes your fancy, you like to play VIDEO GAMES with your friends.
An intelligent girl with a razor-sharp sense of humor, Rose is seemingly the most serious-minded of the four kids. Her typing and speech pattern is grammatically sound, though unusually loquacious and densely packed with esoteric words and phrases. She strives to maintain composure in all situations, including calmly facing the imminent destruction of her home and property during the start of her session. This later seems to be more of a defense mechanism - witnessing her mother's death evokes genuine distress out of her physically, but tempers her words to appear calmer than she is when talking to Jade about it. Perhaps born out of a mix of her precocious intelligence and desire to prove something to herself and others, Rose can be incredibly single-minded, which is as much to her detriment as it is her asset. The stubborn declarations that no one can convince her their fate is sealed drives her to quickly become one of the most dangerous but effective players in her session. She tends to disregard the advice and worry of others out of the (often true, but sometimes deadly mistaken) belief that she is in control and knows what she is doing.
Control is an important concept for Rose. Like many intelligent children, Rose has decided on an image she wishes to project, and placed that image - one of a Rose Lalonde in control, a Rose Lalonde who knows what needs to be known and can prove it - on top of a pedestal. Most of her energy is spent keeping her balance, hyper-aware of how much worse it looks to fall from such a height. She is the happiest when she believes she is pulling all the strings, and at her most terse and vulnerable when she feels she needs to catch up. She takes a sarcastic or passive-aggressive route in conversation when she feels sincerity is the wrong approach - which is to say, when she fears her sincerity will be rejected. This is most evident in her relationship with her mother, who she portrays in an exaggerated fashion as borderline negligent whose only enjoyments in life are alcohol and mocking Rose's interests and gestures. After her mother is killed, Rose admits that she has always felt that her mother was a displaced heroine, waiting for Rose to catch up with her. Her death eventually guides Rose to her grimdark phase, accepting the "guidance" of the Elder gods in her grief and desire for revenge, against the concerns and warnings of her friends - a handy illustration of the lengths she is willing to go for people she cares about. Rose Lalonde cares a lot. Sincere demonstrations of affection may be too much for her to risk, but she is willing to go quite far in order to achieve something she is sure will help her friends to survive. Even if the choices that take her there are rather morally grey.
This isn't to say she is incapable of relaxing and having fun. Though sharp, many of her conversations are laced with quick, mostly well-meant humor. She seems to enjoy messing around with her alchemiter and creating new objects, and in one memorable incident, dons a magnetic letter W as a fake mustache. There are even certain others she is able to let her mask slip around without worry. Rose is very fond of cats and, it seems, all animals - she misses her dead cat several years on and fails to resist playing with a new one, as well as collects animal consorts from each of the session's Lands. She attempts, however, to affect a guise of disinterest, as with the pony her mother presents to her.
-SAMPLES-
Journal entry sample:
I'll admit that the concept of reality as a mere persistent illusion is hardly a new one, but this seems to me to be a very strange way to prove a point. Empirical data would suggest that, since my admittedly paradoxical creation, I have "been" and continue to "be". While it is an interesting theory to suggest that this is the "true" reality and my previous existence was "fiction," I am afraid this only serves to that solidify the popular idea that reality is only state of mind, and thus "this" reality can be no more or just as real as my previous definition of the word. As it is, I do not believe the psychiatric evaluation was quite necessary, considering I am not the one demanding others recognize that their existence up until this point of time was the product of another being's imagination. Then again, I have not been to medical school. I suppose requesting to see authentic documentation of such education would only be met with more assertions that, not being real until this moment, I could not possibly recognize which prestigious university mailed out its diplomas for the low, low price of six payments of $99.95. Such is the plight of the erstwhile fictional.
I would like to accuse the kind doctors of several things, involving the terms "gaslighting" and perhaps "Schrodinger's reality", but I believe I would much rather know if this network operates in the manner I suspect it does - and if so, if there are any familiar faces in my audience.
3rd 2nd person sample:
Your name is Rose Lalonde, and you have just seen the light.
The last thing you remember is a flash of green, so bright even its memory sears your eyesight. You have certainly seen the light, and your brother's frightened face in its illumination. You interrupt your caretaker's obviously oft-repeated speech, and inquire after anyone who might "arrived" with you, tuning him out to half frequency again once it becomes clear that you appeared entirely alone. You are loath to give credit where it is due as far as the game is concerned, but you cannot deny that your title is a darkly humorous blend of the precise and the ironic. You saw the literal light - you, in fact, created it, the source that powered not just one but several of the enemies that killed your friends and killed your mother. You were played, you will acknowledged that soundly now; quite blind in areas where sight was needed the most direly.
Your new ensemble is a frankly alarming shade of yellow, the color reminding you of the forest around your home in the fall. The doctor is still describing the difference between fiction (your old self) and reality (your new self), but you set your jaw, remembering the color red and how the dark that dripped from you spilled and soiled the blood pooling around your mother and John's father like blotches of ink. That was certainly real. That was certainly reality. You had certainly really fought and really died. The cowl of your costume falls over your eyes, but you make no move now to pull it back. You want to decide this is another function of a game designed to break you, but hold off. Your decisions of late have come to no good, and what you want to break your streak.
"Do you understand?" the doctor asks, finishing his speech.
You fold one white hand over the other, primly, and look him in the eye as you nod yes.
Email: aestasbeyond[at]gmail[dot]com
AIM: aestas beyond
LJ name:
aestasTimezone: EST (GMT -5:00)
-THEM-
Character name: Rose Lalonde
Series: Homestuck
Character history: Character Biography and Canon Overview @ MSPA Wiki.
Character personality: Your name is ROSE. You have a variety of INTERESTS. You have a passion for RATHER OBSCURE LITERATURE. You enjoy creative writing and are SOMEWHAT SECRETIVE ABOUT IT. You have a fondness for the BESTIALLY STRANGE AND FICTITIOUS, and sometimes dabble in PSYCHOANALYSIS. You also like to KNIT, and your room is a BIT OF A MESS. And on occasion, if just the right one strikes your fancy, you like to play VIDEO GAMES with your friends.
An intelligent girl with a razor-sharp sense of humor, Rose is seemingly the most serious-minded of the four kids. Her typing and speech pattern is grammatically sound, though unusually loquacious and densely packed with esoteric words and phrases. She strives to maintain composure in all situations, including calmly facing the imminent destruction of her home and property during the start of her session. This later seems to be more of a defense mechanism - witnessing her mother's death evokes genuine distress out of her physically, but tempers her words to appear calmer than she is when talking to Jade about it. Perhaps born out of a mix of her precocious intelligence and desire to prove something to herself and others, Rose can be incredibly single-minded, which is as much to her detriment as it is her asset. The stubborn declarations that no one can convince her their fate is sealed drives her to quickly become one of the most dangerous but effective players in her session. She tends to disregard the advice and worry of others out of the (often true, but sometimes deadly mistaken) belief that she is in control and knows what she is doing.
Control is an important concept for Rose. Like many intelligent children, Rose has decided on an image she wishes to project, and placed that image - one of a Rose Lalonde in control, a Rose Lalonde who knows what needs to be known and can prove it - on top of a pedestal. Most of her energy is spent keeping her balance, hyper-aware of how much worse it looks to fall from such a height. She is the happiest when she believes she is pulling all the strings, and at her most terse and vulnerable when she feels she needs to catch up. She takes a sarcastic or passive-aggressive route in conversation when she feels sincerity is the wrong approach - which is to say, when she fears her sincerity will be rejected. This is most evident in her relationship with her mother, who she portrays in an exaggerated fashion as borderline negligent whose only enjoyments in life are alcohol and mocking Rose's interests and gestures. After her mother is killed, Rose admits that she has always felt that her mother was a displaced heroine, waiting for Rose to catch up with her. Her death eventually guides Rose to her grimdark phase, accepting the "guidance" of the Elder gods in her grief and desire for revenge, against the concerns and warnings of her friends - a handy illustration of the lengths she is willing to go for people she cares about. Rose Lalonde cares a lot. Sincere demonstrations of affection may be too much for her to risk, but she is willing to go quite far in order to achieve something she is sure will help her friends to survive. Even if the choices that take her there are rather morally grey.
This isn't to say she is incapable of relaxing and having fun. Though sharp, many of her conversations are laced with quick, mostly well-meant humor. She seems to enjoy messing around with her alchemiter and creating new objects, and in one memorable incident, dons a magnetic letter W as a fake mustache. There are even certain others she is able to let her mask slip around without worry. Rose is very fond of cats and, it seems, all animals - she misses her dead cat several years on and fails to resist playing with a new one, as well as collects animal consorts from each of the session's Lands. She attempts, however, to affect a guise of disinterest, as with the pony her mother presents to her.
-SAMPLES-
Journal entry sample:
I'll admit that the concept of reality as a mere persistent illusion is hardly a new one, but this seems to me to be a very strange way to prove a point. Empirical data would suggest that, since my admittedly paradoxical creation, I have "been" and continue to "be". While it is an interesting theory to suggest that this is the "true" reality and my previous existence was "fiction," I am afraid this only serves to that solidify the popular idea that reality is only state of mind, and thus "this" reality can be no more or just as real as my previous definition of the word. As it is, I do not believe the psychiatric evaluation was quite necessary, considering I am not the one demanding others recognize that their existence up until this point of time was the product of another being's imagination. Then again, I have not been to medical school. I suppose requesting to see authentic documentation of such education would only be met with more assertions that, not being real until this moment, I could not possibly recognize which prestigious university mailed out its diplomas for the low, low price of six payments of $99.95. Such is the plight of the erstwhile fictional.
I would like to accuse the kind doctors of several things, involving the terms "gaslighting" and perhaps "Schrodinger's reality", but I believe I would much rather know if this network operates in the manner I suspect it does - and if so, if there are any familiar faces in my audience.
Your name is Rose Lalonde, and you have just seen the light.
To see the light, fig. a. to understand something clearly at lastThe dark corners of your mouth curve very slightly as you recall the definition during your introduction to "new reality"; one you appear to have just come to understand at last, one in which you have just come into existence. A nurse seated near you, sympathetic expression pasted into place, seems to take this as a signal, reaching one hand out toward yours. You level your calm lavender stare in her direction, and she withdraws again almost quickly. The doctor continues to drone about living in the "real world" and the education in the topic you are to receive, but you are the Seer of Light and you are only half listening.
OR b. to come into existence or being
OR c. to be made public
OR d. to begin to understand or accept a point of view one has previously opposed.
The last thing you remember is a flash of green, so bright even its memory sears your eyesight. You have certainly seen the light, and your brother's frightened face in its illumination. You interrupt your caretaker's obviously oft-repeated speech, and inquire after anyone who might "arrived" with you, tuning him out to half frequency again once it becomes clear that you appeared entirely alone. You are loath to give credit where it is due as far as the game is concerned, but you cannot deny that your title is a darkly humorous blend of the precise and the ironic. You saw the literal light - you, in fact, created it, the source that powered not just one but several of the enemies that killed your friends and killed your mother. You were played, you will acknowledged that soundly now; quite blind in areas where sight was needed the most direly.
Your new ensemble is a frankly alarming shade of yellow, the color reminding you of the forest around your home in the fall. The doctor is still describing the difference between fiction (your old self) and reality (your new self), but you set your jaw, remembering the color red and how the dark that dripped from you spilled and soiled the blood pooling around your mother and John's father like blotches of ink. That was certainly real. That was certainly reality. You had certainly really fought and really died. The cowl of your costume falls over your eyes, but you make no move now to pull it back. You want to decide this is another function of a game designed to break you, but hold off. Your decisions of late have come to no good, and what you want to break your streak.
"Do you understand?" the doctor asks, finishing his speech.
You fold one white hand over the other, primly, and look him in the eye as you nod yes.