#okay in all of my college application questionnaire 'who are you' moments I always realize i just

[visitationrpg]

Congratulations, DOROTHY! You have been accepted for the role of Marco Vasile. You have 24 HOURS to send in your account, and don’t forget to look over the CHECKLIST!

Note from Admin Maddie: So, Marco was definitely supposed to be my angst bomb skeleton, but your application really made me feel a lot. Your third headcanon destroyed me? I also loved seeing the origin of his love for film, how it directly relates to the loss he experienced. More than that, I can clearly see the layers you added to him, that he’s a lot more than just angst. His character came so alive in the questionnaire, and I can’t wait to see that on the dash.

Welcome to Visitation!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME/ALIAS: Dorothy

PRONOUNS: She/Her

AGE: 23

TIMEZONE: EST

ANYTHING ELSE? (hi, if the adoption thing is a bit of a stretch, it can be adjusted. I just kind of liked the idea of Angel being the pillar of the family because of the fact that he was their ‘Angel’ or miracle child, and yeah okay)

IN CHARACTER:

WANTED SKELETON: Marco Vasile

GENDER & PRONOUNS: Male, He/Him pronouns

BIOGRAPHY: The story of your character. This section can be formatted however you’d like — bullet points, a full biography, an analysis of the character. There is no maximum amount, but we would like at least 400 words minimum in second or third person, just to get a real feel for the character you’ve created, and to know you have a good grasp from the skeleton!

You spend your days shooting, splicing, and stitching together endless hours of recorded footage, perfecting the visage of a seamless production, wishing for a moment that your life could be edited just the same. If you could just wipe the memory files from your childhood, omit the expressions from your parents faces as they stood over Angel’s casket, jump cut to your retirement, and roll the credits onto a blank screen, you would. But life is not a movie, no matter how hard you wish it could be. There’s no skipping straight to the end, no synopsis you can read that will sum everything up, no way to bypass the suffering through each and every painstaking moment until you reach the happily-ever-after. The finality of it all is something that you despise, hoping and praying nearly every day for your M. Night twist, a moment that seems to never come.

Life at home wasn’t like the coming-of-age movies you and your brother watched most nights when your parents left you alone with the babysitter. You weren’t shy, your brother loved you and treated you kindly, and your parents made an effort to appear interested in your life and aspirations, though you wouldn’t be quick to say they went above and beyond. They met later in life, right as your mother was developing an inability to conceive children. But they made it work, and nearly two years later your brother was born. The procedure was brutal, taking quite the toll on your mother, and your older brother Angel nearly died on the hospital table. He was too weak to breathe on his own, but after nearly three months in the NICU and several operations later, your parents finally had their own baby boy. For a few years they were content in their threesome, finding that raising a child this late in their lives was much harder than they’d imagined it to be, but content they were nonetheless. It was your father who suggested adoption after months of hearing your brother complain of boredom and loneliness, and your mother didn’t require much persuasion before she agreed. They’d always been humanitarians, hoping to change their world through their actions, trying daily to leave a positive impact on the world. And that’s where you came in, fitting precisely into their lives as one of their own.

You never felt out of place growing up, always made to be just another part of the family, always given the same amount of love as your brother was, and for this you were grateful. As you grew up, you looked forward to spending time with your family, as the four of you always made time to play games together or sit down and watch movies. It was through these weekly Friday movies that you began to develop a love for films, consuming nearly any movie you could get your hands to reach as your father’s DVD bookshelf stood from the floor to the ceiling (and he’d learned to keep the more adult movies juuuust out of your reach). Your brother had his sports and his music, neither of which you performed particularly well in, but films – the glazed look in your eyes as you’d pass by a video store, the giddy smile you’d wear as you unwrapped DVD cases on Christmas, the home movies you’d cut into nearly short length feature films – they were your escape. While your parents had wished for you to put your focus into your school work, they weren’t the type to discourage you or your brother from your passions, and even went as far as investing good money into a proper camera and editing software, something you never thanked them enough for as a child, but can’t find the strength to say something now.

Fate had always been a major theme in many of the films you watched, and you loved watching characters deal with unruly circumstances being thrown at them, watching them as they adapted, thanking God that nothing bad had ever happened to you like that. But fate had other plans, ones no one foresaw, not even the gang members who shot your brother by mistake as he walked home from school, a brand new movie in his bag waiting to be watched by the pair of you. Graduation was not even three weeks away when he died, his life all too quickly ripped out from under him like a tablecloth and your life shattered like glasses during a bad magic trick. The funeral was held days later, a closed casket ceremony, which took away your ability to say goodbye. Angel had always been there right next to you growing up, he’d been your rock and closest confidant, someone who taught you the ways of the world in ways your parents couldn’t, and his death tore you into pieces you’re not sure have been fully put back together.

Family dinners were never the same after that week. The silence that now filled the once noisy house was more deafening than you could’ve ever imagined, the stares of your parents nearly burnt a hole in your head as you kept it hung low at the table. They tried to speak to you, to level with you, and include you in their lives as best as they could while trying their best to mend their own hearts as well as yours. But nothing was ever the same, and you could tell that while they were speaking to you, they were wishing it were Angel. You found yourself uninterested in talking, finding that no one but Angel had ever truly listened to you in the first place, so why entertain everyone with pleasantries when you could just… not? Your parents hated it, you could tell, as they began to speak to you less and less as you finished high school, withdrawing yourself to the art room nearly every  chance you got, it being your only place of solace besides your own room. And when you were accepted to film school, you left without even a second glance back. Angel had been on his way to Julliard studying music, and you knew that in order to give his life any sort of credit, following your own dream would be the only way.

You spent four long and tiresome years behind a camera, not allowing yourself to truly ever come from behind it, which led to quite the lonesome and quiet life, though you don’t mind. Your craft is your company, the one thing that can ever truly understand you, sometimes even better than you can understand yourself. Though graduate school was just the next step for you, it took some time for you to realize that in order to truly excell, you needed to network or get involved in a project, one that might open doors in the future. Visitation was just the thing you needed, and it came at just the right time. Though you’re not a firm believer in the paranormal, you can’t help but find yourself invigorated by a fresh curiosity, the subject matter keeping you alert and intrigued, which is refreshing after all these years. You’re not sure where the show is heading, but you’re going to go along for the ride as long as you can. After all, Youtube is becoming a great leeway for creative minds to have a platform, and you’ve never been one to turn down a good opportunity.

ANYTHING ELSE? This section is optional, but feel free to put any extra headcanons or writing/musing here!

His never mentioned it to anyone, but Marco can’t help but hope that he can someday make contact with his brother. While skeptical of the paranormal, something in the back of his mind constantly pulls him to these thoughts (the need for closure, the estranged feeling of guilt Marco carries even years after Angel’s death, and he does his best to rid himself of them by frequenting the off-campus bar.

Marco made it his mission after Angel’s death to watch a movie every day of the week, as in consume 365 separate movies every single day. He started with Angel’s favorites, one’s he’d dismissed when Angel was still alive, finding solace in them, before moving on.

He deleted his parents numbers from his phone when he graduated college, though he still has the number memorized by heart. Sometimes he gets calls from the area code from where he grew up and his heart skips a beat, hoping it isn’t the call he’s dreading the most, that one of them has passed. He’s not even sure if he’d go to their funeral, but at the end of the day,  they were his parents, and as much as it pains him to admit it, they always will be.

QUESTIONNAIRE:

Please answer the following questions in character. Format for this section is, once again, up to you! Feel free to set the scene as if it were an interview and answer each question individually or perhaps write it as an internal monologue from the past; it’s your choice, just remember to keep it in third person, please! This section is just to get an idea of your character’s voice.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN THE PARANORMAL?

“I don’t prefer to commit myself to any one idea or way of thinking,” Marco answered honestly. It was rare for him to answer interview questions, but watching his other co-stars and crew members answer, he’d been rather intrigued on what they had to say and felt inclined to share as well. After all, he’d been labeled as “the brooding one” of the bunch, which hadn’t really bothered him, but he knew he could cut himself some slack and give the audience a bit of what they wanted from him. “That being said, I’m not opposed to the idea of paranormal entities or activity, but until I experience an event that can give me concrete proof of their existence, I can’t say yes or no.”

HAVE YOU EVER HAD A PARANORMAL ENCOUNTER?

He raised his eyebrows at this question, though it hadn’t truly struck any sort of chord within him. He wasn’t a good actor, trained behind the camera and not in front, so his ability to conceal his true emotions weren’t as atuned as other members of Visitation, which is why when Lillian sent a look his way he knew immediately to change his face. Letting out a soft laugh, Marco shook his head, but took a moment longer before answering. “Personally, no. All I’ve had to deal with are a few soundbites and thermal images, but nothing I’d consider and encounter.”

IF NO, WHY NOT?

This question puzzled him, and took him another moment to answer. “I’m not sure…” He said, though some may have mistaken his statement for a question, as he carried out the words to their end slowly, as if he was trying to deliberate something. It seemed the interviewer was waiting on the edge of his words for more, something to conclude his portion of the interview, but more words never came, and Marco’s eyes shifted from their gaze to the floor.

EXTRAS: N/A

[jodellejournals]

what do you want to be when you grow up?

as a kid, i heard this question countless times and i’d be rich enough to buy myself a jolly meal if a penny came with it. but what do i really want to be when i grow up? my very first answer at five would be, “i want to be a painter!” and so i wrote it in my kindergarten yearbook. my teacher saw it and asked, “what kind of painter?” with a look that read she equated it being a painter of buildings and other constructions. my already six-year-old self by then thought, how could this human, who i call my ‘teacher’, be that absurd? not that i don’t like painting buildings because i have always wanted to try it, like those you see in bgc. what i meant though was to be a painter of scenery, portraits, flowers — all those stuff! i brushed off my encounter with her and proceeded in getting my picture taken wearing a white toga for our yearbook pictorial. i’ve always wanted to become a painter or do any form of art since the moment i discovered crayons, colored pencils, oil pastels, watercolors, paint brushes, and all those belonging to that category. so every birthday, christmas, and random occasion, those were the gifts i’d usually receive and i’d pretend i’m surprised as to not kill the joy of opening presents. don’t get me wrong, though. i have always appreciated the thought and effort that is given and exerted. i also participated in every coloring contest there was and while i made sure to win so mommy and daddy would be proud, i enjoyed every moment of it as well because coloring and drawing were the most enjoyable activities for me. and not to brag here but i always win (or at the least, end up in the top three). i knew it was my niche, my element, my forte, as a kindergartner. a painter is who i want to be and it was crystal clear. so as early as grade school, i knew i’d take up fine arts as my course in college at whatever university i may end up with.

when i turned twelve, i still knew i wanted to be a painter but i found myself designing clothes in between or even during classes. i’d have sketchpads in my backpack but they were not for art class. they were with me so i can bring to life my random ideas, visions, and concepts at random parts of the day. so at that age and stage, i decided to become a fashion designer. that remained until high school. i was so passionate about it to the point that i voluntarily designed prom dresses for friends just because i get sudden bursts of creativity and i wanted to dress them up. some people did not understand the dedication i had for my craft and hobby, but creating something out of my bare hands kept my soul breathing and growing. and so i do not need to explain myself to anyone whose opinion do not matter. “those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind”, as the saying goes. so i read more fashion blogs, researched backgrounds of famous designers, and reflected on the latest seasons of brands i adore. along the way, i have found “allies” in my high school who understood my passion for fashion and it was great comfort to me. they come with the names of “jennifer” and “dwayne” and both remained good friends to me until today. they are now more fashionable, sophisticated, and chic. i’d like to think of that way with myself, too. anyway, back to my story, i decided to take up fashion design and on my senior year in high school, i filled up entrance forms of colleges which specialized in it. my second choice was fine arts and i knew which universities that offered best programs for it.

but on a twist of fate, the university my parents planned for me to attend did not offer fashion design... nor fine arts. oopsy daisy! what a tough dilemma for a teenage girl to face! i knew in my heart that those were the only courses i wanted to take since my heart was set on those fields. how can i spend years sitting in classes and learning a course that is not of my slightest interest, right? “that is how you slowly kill your soul”, my sixteen-year-old self told me and i agreed with her. that was like committing suicide internally. so i did not take university exams seriously. i dreaded them. in fact, i drew on the scratch papers inserted in questionnaires. sorry, parents! see, this is why i did not like becoming an adult! i got very anxious in making an “important life decision” for i know it will either make or break my future. i wanted to run away from it so i procrastinated it, and yes, cried over it. my last option was the Man above. i prayed so hard each night that i may make the right decision and counted on my lucky stars as well. it even became my 11:11 wish! yes, i believe in it. considering also that it was 2012 that time, “11:11, make a wish” was a slogan written all over the internet. that was an angel number after all and angels are to help us. but that’s another story.

fast forward to college, i ended up in a green and white university located in taft avenue with a mascot famously called, “green archer”. no, my course was neither of my top two choices. no, i did not also want to become a psychologist nor a psychiatrist. and no, my parents did not choose my course for me. so you may wonder, how and why? i honestly don’t know too but if it was God’s answer to my prayer, then so be it. all i know was, when i was still contemplating what course to take, a random thought struck me like a light bulb moment. it was during one beautiful orangey afternoon while our car passed by luna street in iloilo city. i recalled thinking, what if i try a course that can answer my what ifs and hows? the spark of the thought lingered on me. so when i got home, i opened the manual of courses in the college of liberal arts and the page flipped on bachelor of arts major in psychology. not so bad, i thought. i wrote it down as my second choice in the application form while the first one was bachelor of arts major in communication arts (the closest i can get to my original top two choices). and that’s it. come what may. as what filipinos would also chant in making tricky life decisions, “bahala na si batman”. so please mr. batman, don’t fail me and make sure joker doesn’t get in the way. but deep down inside, in the innermost of my heart, i had faith that God will take care of my situation and turn it around for the best.

to cut the story short, i took up ab psychology but told myself that if i didn’t like the first semester of majors, i would shift to communication arts or what available course there is for my liking. i cannot commit internal suicide, right? that was when another twist of fate happened. i enjoyed my majors and so i decided to stay in my course. who knew i’d really develop an interest in psychology? i couldn’t quite believe it, too, and truth be told, i studied my lessons diligently and listened to lectures attentively. but i still painted, drew, and designed at home. i only stopped diary-writing and journaling which i have been religiously doing since i was ten. college was a jungle and i am a busy bee, i would say as an excuse to myself. okay, whatever floats your boat, self. college life really got a toll on me. it was a period of adjustmemt, growth, and discovery. i could not sit down long enough to process my thoughts before another requirement and responsibility came rushing along. thank God for giving me friends in the halls of green and white! they were the few, who i did not even expect to develop friendship with in the first place, but became my home away from home and made me permanently decide to stay in my course. i am contented and comforted by their company and so college became one of my most fun chapters ever. they were happy days when i look back but even happier on thursdays, if you know what i mean. life is indeed full of surprises.

what now after college? that degree was nothing but a piece of paper. yes, it was a privilege but i realized it’s hard work and determination that take you places with consistent prayer. what do i want to be now? funny how this question still haunted me and as all grown-up as i appear to be, i did not have a clear answer to it yet. part of me still wanted to be a painter or a fashion designer but i also wanted to simply answer “i just want to be happy” which was very vague. i guess what i meant to say was to be in a state of happiness. but then o learned that happiness is only a part of a spectrum of feelings and emotions that we humans experience. there is also sadness, anger, fear, and contempt to name some and we have to go through each one of them. that’s what makes us human, after all. another part of me also wanted to become a lifestyle writer but my only experience in writing were few feature writing awards from contests i have joined in grade school. not enough. suddenly, i realized i wanted to be a pre-school teacher. finally. a career related to my chosen course. how satisfying it would be to mold young minds and hearts? i believe early intervention makes a huge difference in a child’s development of morals and values so it would be great honor to be a part of one’s formative years. for some odd reason though, it did not push through. so scratch that for now. i’ll save my empathy and nurturing nature later on if i really get the chance to be a pre-school teacher or when i become a mother. i had a “sure and secure” job in a bank back then so “why risk it?” adults would point out. uh-oh. how sad that they have let the child in them die! but again, inam not in the position to judge anyone who stays and settles in a “sure and secure job” if that’s how they can make a living.

now, i work for my father. i’ve always known this time would come and so i welcome it. the very least i can do to give back to my parents is to be of their helping hand. the fourth commandment even said, “honor your parents” and so shall i do. what i want to be is still unclear to me but i am secured with the faith that as long as i do what is right and do not step on anybody, i will become who i am supposed to be. so if you ask me, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” my answer is, whoever and wherever life shapes and takes me. i realized i cannot just answer that question based on life stages unless i am royalty. but even royals can still abdicate their thrones! so there. we always have a choice. why do you think God gifted us, humans, willpower unlike animals? because through it, we can choose to do what is right and not base our decisions on pure instinct as what animals only have. through willpower and steadfast spirit, we can become the persons God has called us to be. maybe i’d end up with any of those professions that i have mentioned — or maybe not. but there is no need to dwell on things only heaven knows the answer. meanwhile, i can choose to paint my days the way i like them to be, make life as my canvas, and place God as my inspiration. so ‘til then, i’ll keep on painting.