Chaleureux. C'est humide. Froid.
C'est quoi ce bordel? Est-ce que je me noie? Il semble approprié pour quelqu'un comme moi étant donné qu'il est douteux que je survivrai beaucoup plus longtemps ici. La nourriture craint, les gens font semblant d'être gentils, et tout l'endroit sent comme une vieille dame au grenier après sa mort il y a cinquante ans. Mais pourquoi je me noie? Oh oui, je sais. N'est-ce pas la façon la plus horrible de mourir? Sachant que vous ne pouvez pas retenir votre respiration pendant plus d'une minute - peut-être deux - avant que réflexe prend le dessus et vous vous trouvez avaler rien que des gallons d'eau. Et après? Tout fait mal. Tout s'arrête. Et ce sentiment de "tu es baisé" vient juste une fraction de seconde trop tard.
Ouais, ce monde brisé n'a pas besoin de moi quand il y a plein de chattes prêtes à mettre leur propre vie pathétique sur la ligne pour une cause perdue.
Attendez. C'est un poisson qui nage jusqu'à moi? C'est à moi qu'il parle? Je vois les petites bulles qui viennent de sa bouche.
Tu as dit quelque chose de mignon, petit poisson?
"Ouais, arrête de te faire chier et réveille-toi!"
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Les yeux des filles tirèrent ouverts, larges et confuses, tandis que sa vision floue s'abaissait lentement et que le nez froid de son Shepard allemand l'enfonçait dans la joue, suivie de plusieurs cils rapides, chauds et mouillés, sur le front et le menton.
Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? C'est bon! , Frodo stop.-- Elle a gagné au chien collant rôde sur son visage tout en se levant, se rendant compte que la douleur sur le dos de sa tête était très probablement une conséquence de sa chute hors du lit à nouveau sur le sol dur. C'était au point qu'elle dormait peut-être aussi bien sur le sol, considérant que c'est là qu'elle finit inévitablement presque tous les matins depuis qu'elle s'est présentée au Twin Peaks Asylum. J'ai trouvé l'endroit pour elle. Pour tout le monde.
Un coup brusque est venu à nouveau, comme il semble à chaque matin, provoquant Frodons oreilles à se mettre et grogner à la porte. Mais Vic savait qui c'était, comme c'était toujours la même merde, jour différent autour de l'endroit qu'elle appelait "home".
Un deuxième coup est arrivé, suivi d'un troisième immédiat jusqu'à...
La fille s'est exclamée, sentant la bosse sur le dos de sa tête. Je t'ai entendu la première fois, engourdissements!
Frodo a continué à gronder, en s'éloignant à mesure que la porte s'ouvrait lentement et que la tête d'un homme plus âgé de peau pâle avec une barbe piquée, ses yeux sombres s'éloignaient du chien, puis se dirigeaient vers Vic.
Pourquoi ton museau m'aboie-t-il constamment?
Parce que tu es un trou du cul et qu'il n'aime pas les trou du cul. Elle a dit après un moment, se tirant du sol finalement et suscitant un sourire de l'homme barbu à la porte.
Je vous vois avoir réussi à retrouver le sol. Et j'aime tes sous-vêtements.
Vic regarda en bas et soupira, réalisant qu'elle n'avait qu'une chemise qui n'était pas assez longue pour couvrir ses sous-vêtements de lavande PowerPuff Girls. Ferme-la, Curtis, qu'est-ce que tu veux?
Tu veux dire autre chose que toi nu et menotté à mon...
C'était une interruption aussi nonchalante qu'elle le pouvait, mais assez pour que Frodo se presse à la porte en fouillant et en aboyant juste avant qu'elle ne se ferme avec l'homme derrière elle.
"Fine Vic, sois une salope!" Curtis a dit dans une voix étouffée derrière la porte. Sache juste que tu n'as pas ta place ici! Merde, ton chien est plus un ami que toi!...
Victoria connaissait les secrets qui étaient gardés derrière les murs de l'Asile, secrets qui étaient là pour protéger ceux qui cherchaient refuge dans ses murs contre les horreurs du monde extérieur. L'infection s'est propagée comme un feu de forêt, et ceux avec le "gift" du lycan, ou le loup-garou, ont été prisés parmi le grand nombre de personnes logées à Twin Peaks. Vic, cependant, n'avait pas ce que les autres avaient, du moins apparemment pas. Elle pouvait le sentir, même ses sens étaient meilleurs qu'un humain, mais il n'y avait pas de changement, pas de transformation en bête. Elle savait qu'elle n'avait pas sa place, mais la fille ne savait pas où se tourner.
Vic Hëlix
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“I may look calm, but in my mind I have killed you like ten times already.”
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Really? An interrogation? What for?
|| FULL BIRTH-GIVEN NAME ||
*sigh*  Victoria Bastion Helixarious, but “Vic” is fine unless you are a glutton for word punishment or some shit.
|| GENDER ||
Um…female, you damn idiot.
|| SEXUALITY ||
How about, who the fuck cares with a side of I sure as hell don’t, m’kay?
|| AGE ||
Old enough you dumb shit. *sigh*  Fine, I don’t know, 22? 23? I ain’t getting any younger though...
|| RELATIONS ||
None that I know of or care to know of. 
|| IN-DEPTH HUMAN APPEARANCE ||
You can’t figure it out just by looking at me? Wow, you’re a winner for sure. But anyway, I’m a tom-boyish tall bitch with a slender body, small breasts, and slightly stocky thighs, which apparently were inherited from my mother. Lucky me. Although I did get her green eyes so there’s that. *shrug* And I’m sure you’ve already noticed a few tribal tatts, fantasy art, and some miscellaneous shit covering my arms and shoulders, of course there’s others in well-hidden places that you wish your cheeky perverted mind could ponder. Clothing? I don’t know, I guess it would be considered “street wear”, like jeans, t-shirt, and boots. And don’t even get me started on hair...it’s a hot mess and hasn’t been brushed in forever. But, you know what? I’m not here to impress anyone so shut the fuck up about it. 
Mind Prisons
|| PERSONALITY TRAITS ||

○ Animal lover - because no one else understands her
○ Sarcastic nature - helps to alleviate boredom and hide her true feelings.
○ Addictive behavior - There’s a vice for every occasion.
○ Anxious - “Someone shut my brain off for fuck’s sake!”
○ Liberal Views - That mouth seems to have no filter attached.
○ Forceful - When the going gets tough, push back and push harder.
○ Perfectionist - Just when you think it’s right...it’s not.
○ Paranoid - “They’re coming to take me away, ha! Ha!”.
○ Sore Loser - “Shut up, I didn’t want to play your stupid game anyway!”.

|| QUIRKS ||

○ Draws random doodles on any piece of paper or the walls, and always carries a pen, pencil, or marker to facilitate this habit.
○ Compulsively interrupts people talking to interject something unrelated just for shits.
○ Makes up lies about unimportant things.
○ Can spend an hour or more sitting on the toilet reading comic books, and has been known to fall asleep doing so.

|| LIKES & DISLIKES ||

 Seems to get along better with kids than adults
 Drawing and painting with the blood and bones of her foes! *sadistic laugh*...or, perhaps with conventional medium. *yawn*
 Drinking games
 Cars
 Hypocrites
 Losing at drinking games, or any game for that matter
 Absolutely hates child abusers

My Peeps...or are they?
|| FAMILY YOU'VE LOST ||

○ Maria Helixarious (Mother) - no idea where she is.
○ Alex (Father?) - no idea who he was, and pretty sure he’s dead anyway.
○ Bradley (Brother) - presumably dead, but unconfirmed

|| FAITHFUL COMPANION(S) ||
German Shepard, retired K9 Unit dog
|| PERSONAL WEAPONS ||

○ Native American tomahawk Although she has no idea where it came from...
○ REMINGTON 870 short barrel shotgun Easier to hit a target since her aim sucks
○ Pepper Spray - In yo face mutha fucka!
○ Butterfly knife - Because who doesn’t like butterflies?
○ Brass Knuckles - It just hurts more

You think you know me, bitch?
|| BIOGRAPHY ||

“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?”
The dark-haired girl sat in the corner of the room, black charcoal from the willow stick covered her hands and sweaty face as she busily sketched images of fantastical beasts, wolves, and other creatures of the night on the wall in the small room she called her “cage”. Various mythological tattoos adorning her upper body made it difficult to tell where her olive-colored skin ended and the black tank top started as she sat cross legged on the cold floor in a tattered pair of red and black flannel pajama bottoms.
“I-I don’t know much about my past…” She finally said, brushing locks of short, unkempt hair out of her eyes. “Actually, yeah I do, but I won't fucking tell you. So there.” Her voice seemed almost whimsical as she spoke, as though she rather enjoyed toying with people who asked too many questions. “Fine...maybe I’ll tell you just enough so you’ll go away…”
Vic let out a long sigh and continued, tapping her toes to a beat in her head...
“In west Philadelphia born and raised, On the playground was where I spent most of my days, Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool, and all shootin’ some b-ball outside of the school. When a couple of guys who were up to no good, started makin’ trouble in my neighborhood
I got in one little fight and my mom got scared, She said, ‘You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air.’ “
She smirked to herself. “Fuck, okay okay, so those were the lyrics to the Fresh Prince of Bel Air...not actually my life. But what difference does it make to you?”
The girl threw the charcoal stick on the floor. “OKAY! FINE!” She swiveled her body and slumped hard against the wall she’d been drawing on, leaning her head back and closing her eyes as she let her voice drop a bit. “So I’ll tell you the real story you persistent prick...”
“I wasn’t even born in this country, but my mother had a fucked up fling going on in South Africa with some military asshole, getting her sorry ass knocked up, and having me.” She paused for a moment as her lip quivered a bit. “And...my younger brother, who was probably the best and only friend I’d had growing up. Long story short, my mother took us to the states a few years later and tried to raise us, but clearly failed miserably since both my brother and I ended up bouncing from one damn orphanage to another.”
The girl laughed almost hysterically to keep herself from crying...or breaking something. “And can I tell you, buck-o, that the foster care system in this country sucks royal cock? I mean, we must have run away like a dozen times only to end up back in a system that couldn’t contain us anyway.”
Victoria stared blankly across the room for a few moments, wiping the few tears that welled up and ran down her blackened cheeks, leaving streaks in it’s wake.
“Aaaand then all this infection shit happened. Governments couldn’t help us, the child care system was a joke, and through all the chaos my brother Bradley and I were split up never to see one another again. I fell in with all kinds of sorry groups, most of which were so strung out on drugs and alcohol that they either didn’t know there was an infection spreading or they didn’t care. Apathy suddenly replace any kind of reasonable thinking in this fucked up world.”
She slowly stood up, stretching her legs and arms before continuing.
“ ‘Safe Havens’ they called them, or so I heard through the ramblings of addicts. Now, don’t get me wrong, I partook in all kinds of shit that should have killed me already, but I’m clean now...well, sort of...but, but, stop trying to change the fucking subject!”
The girl shook her head as she crossed her arms and paced back and forth across the small room.
“And then there’s whispers of this ‘infection’ causing some kind transformation...like, like a werewolf. Yeah, I know, shut up, it sounds stupid but...maybe there’s some truth, yeah? So, now I’m here in the middle of butt-fuck Colorado at one of those ‘Safe Havens’ I mentioned earlier, and I think everyone in this dump is bat shit crazy!”
A sudden knock came to the door, followed by a female child’s voice. “Vic?...are you okay?” Before a reply could come however, the door opened and a dark-skinned girl no more than ten years of age peeked her head through. “Um…I just wanted to let you know that I’m helping the mess hall team make brownies later and thought you’d like to come by.”
“Hmmm...yeah, let's see, I’m busy with…things right now, okay?”
“ ‘Things’...right.” The little girl said with a smirk as she shook her head. “So who were you talking to before I walked in?” Her eyes grew wide. “You don’t have a boy hiding under your bed do you, because you know that’s forbid-”
“What? Hell no!...” Vic stood there with her mouth agape for a moment, darting her eyes around the room before a large smile spread across her face.
“Eh, I was...talking to myself. Apparently…”

|| THEME SONG ||
"Fix Me" by 10 Years