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Cirque des Reves - Sydney Rohart

LukeCrannigy

Published: Jun 12, 2012

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Description

_{My application for

e:: Added mask to bust image

✶ N a m e :
Sydney Rohart

✶ A g e :
20 years old

✶ S p e c i e s :
Human

✶ F a c t i o n :
Diamond

✶ J o b :
Contortionist

✶ P e r s o n a l i t y :
Though introverted offstage, preferring to keep to her own devices so as not to interrupt others', Sydney changes once she steps out onto the stage. She gives it her all and more to make the show more spectacular than it was the night before. She is always ready to assist other performers, but only when asked, otherwise she fears she'll do something that results in an injury or worse. When she isn't performing, she usually tucks herself away within the confines of her trailer, thinking up new routines, curled up (quite literally) with a book, or throwing together miscellaneous ingredients into a pot to see what the result is. While not an avid chef, Sydney has basic culinary knowledge, able to feed herself instead of relying on a steady diet of corn dogs and cotton candy like some unfortunate souls.

✶ H i s t o r y :
Sydney grew up the youngest of three siblings, her brother Randal was the eldest, her sister Cassandra the middle child. Her family lived in a clean upper-class neighborhood in Rouen, France, the kind where the streets weren't littered with beggars and refuse. The kind where walking home at night wasn't a survival exercise. The kind where children didn't have to stay within a few feet of the front door for fear of being stolen away. A good neighborhood. Her family was a closely knit group of artisans, her parents both operatic singers, his baritone and her soprano complimenting one another. Young Randal displayed prowess at the ivories, reciting Mozart before he was ten, while Cassandra was captured by the allure of the cello. Sydney, however, found herself attracted to a different style of art: dance. Her family, though surprised by her choice, nevertheless supported her pursuits wholeheartedly. She loved every second she spent within the studio alongside the other girls, engaging in friendly competition every now and again to see who could do what best. Each of them could do something better than the rest, one's strength was their balance, another's was their endurance, and Sydney's was her flexibility. Her talent to be able to twist and turn her body any way she pleased put her a step above her young peers and their small, undeveloped bodies.

Years passed, and Sydney grew weary of dance. Of being forced to move to someone else's tune instead of acting of her own accord. Her siblings knew of her decision to quit dance long before she voiced it to any of them, recognizing her empty enthusiasm on stage. When she finally mustered up the courage to speak with her parents about it, her father reluctantly accepted his daughter's choice. Sydney's mother, however, was more than a bit upset. She accused Sydney of "throwing away" her talent, everything that she'd worked so hard for so long to accomplish. They didn't speak to each other for a week afterwards, her mother seemingly avoiding her daughter. When they finally did speak again, at a small corner eatery, they shared words, to put it nicely. The result was Sydney leaving in tears as her mother sat alone, the subject of many peeking eyes.

Abigail Rohart didn't come home that night. Murdered by a thief in cold blood for the twelve pounds in her purse. The family was devastated, their home quiet for the first time in years. The keys of Randal's piano sat untouched, Cassandra's strings lay still, and Gerald failed to speak a word. Sydney, however, fared worse than the rest. She didn't leave her room for days, hardly eating or sleeping as the tears never completely stopped. She couldn't help but blame herself. If she hadn't stormed out like she did, leaving her mother alone, she could have still been alive. When Sydney finally emerged from her room one fateful night, it would be the last time she would ever do so. With a small pack of clothes, food, and money, she ran away. She believed that, sooner or later, her family, too, would blame her for Abigail's death, and refused to experience that kind of guilt. She wandered aimlessly, sleeping under bridges or anything else to shelter her from the unusually rainy fall. As she finished what was left of her meager rations, Sydney was entranced by a mysterious sound carried on the wind in the night. Music. Calliope music. She followed after it in a daze for what felt like miles, growing louder and louder the closer she came.

It was then that Sydney Rohart stumbled upon what would change her life forever; the Cirque des Reves. A voice, gravelly and harsh, called to her. "Oi!" it said, coming from one of the many ticket booths. She approached and found a small, wrinkly, balding man behind the glass, observing her carefully. "You..." he said in a raspy murmur, "you know what this is?" She shook her head. "This here's a place of magic and wonder. Things that you never thought possible are commonplace inside these here tents. Illusions that would make you question your sanity. Death defying stunts that laugh at the so-called 'laws' of physics. Creatures from beyond your wildest imaginings." He pointed a dried-up finger at her, "And you, my dear," he loosed a wheezing laugh, "are welcome to be a part of every bit of it." The miniature geezer reached beneath the tabletop and placed a piece of paper with ornate lettering spelling "Contract" into her hands. "Just sign at the dotted line, sweetie," he whispered. What did she have left to lose? Sydney was alone with nowhere to call home, and this strange man was offering. With a flick of her wrist, her past meant nothing anymore, just the Cirque.

✶ V o i c e : Soft and low, a trace of longing optimism hidden away behind an air of absentmindedness.

✶ L i k e s :
► Reading
► Cooking
► Performing
► Alone time
► Starry skies
► Seeing others improve
► Skulls (She REALLY likes reading Hamlet)

✶ D i s l i k e s :
► Botching a recipe
► Pity
► Seeing herself or others fail
► Holier-than-thou mentalities
► Thunder
► Anything with more than four legs

✶ F a m i l y :
► Gerald Rohart (father)
► Abigail Rohart (mother - deceased)
► Cassandra Rohart (sister)
► Randal Rohart (brother)

✶ R e l a t i o n s h i p s :
► The Rohart family: Strained. Two years after joining the Cirque, Syndey mustered up the courage to send a letter to her former home telling her family she was safe and not to worry, nothing more. She doesn't know whether or not they received it, but somewhere in the back of her mind she hopes they had.

✶ M I S C/O t h e r I n f o r m a t i o n:
► She cut, dyed, and styled her hair to hide her identity from her family if they ever visited the Cirque. This is also why she wears a mask on stage.
► She has made a poor habit of misplacing her mask.

✶ R P m e t h o d s :
► DA notes
► DA chat
► skype (@KazuyaRP)}

Image size

1086x750px 213.45 KB

Comments8

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riekyu

Jul 4, 2012

_{Ohh, my character is a contortionist too!
I hope we get a chance to RP together!}