Futuristic ⅵ. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐁𝐀𝐏.

[mother of sorrows]

AND WHEN THE DEAD WILL WALK THE STREETS
AND THE SKIES WILL BE FILLED WITH BLOOD
REALITY WILL SCREAM ITSELF APART

 

[frankieblu]

c.t.

cynthia

role.

cynthia is a middle-aged half-angel working alongside the other clowns in the branch, forever struggling between her doormat personality and the inner turmoil often brought to light by her eyes.

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  requisite.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  full name

  
  

  cynthia thistle

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  age

  
  

  40 years old

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  gender

  
  

  cis-female

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  sexuality

  
  

  gay

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  occupation

  
  

  employee

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  role

  
  

  half-angel employee in the government branch for apocalyptic prevention

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  visage.

  
  
  
  

  scroll

  
  
  
  

  
  

  height

  
  

  6’3

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  hair colour

  
  

  blonde

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  eye colour

  
  

  dark blue

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
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  persona.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  discerning

  
  
  
  
  

  easily agitated

  
  
  
  
  

  deluded

  
  
  
  
  

  quick to learn

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  cynthia possesses a flighty demeanour in both speech and attitude, quick to submit to demands or passive-aggressive hints. aware of her lack of experience in the department, she treads carefully and listens attentively; alongside her timid outlook, cynthia has an intelligent mind when it comes to learning. in the comfort of her own, empty home, however, she is a disorienting mixture of unnerving placidity and obsession. cynthia is very self-aware of how her beliefs would be perceived and keeps them separate from her public life.
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  interests

  
  

  
  

  there isn’t much that piques cynthia’s interest - her home is the perfect image of a low-budget minimalist apartment, sparse of movies or games. she has a few half-read books in her possession, and notebooks full of her eyes’ many murmurs. there is the rare manic obsession ranging from the latest tv show to adored lovers, but it’s most likely better that it remains a scarce occurrence.

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  hobbies

  
  

  
  

  alongside staring at her bedroom ceiling at night, cynthia has an unnamed stray cat that often visits her fire escape, mewling for food at god-awful hours of the day. she also likes to swim and escape to the serenity of the waves given the opportunity, but finds chlorinated pools sting both the eyes on her face and limbs.

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
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  history.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  beginning

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  cynthia is a forever down-on-her-luck forty years old half-angel with an anxiety disorder and a hidden god complex.
  
  born to a human mother and a supposedly human father, cynthia was quickly abandoned on the steps of an orphanage when her tiny limbs uncurled and tens of eyes all blinked up at her mother simultaneously. cynthia went through life with the attitude of a small insect, taking opportunities when she could and hiding away upon failure; it was only due to her meagre and subservient attitude that she managed to attain jobs, the first-stop doormat to every power-driven subway manager that wanted more from life.
  
  another stop in her never-ending list of applications landed her at the goverment branch of apocalyptic prevention, a quick and mindless click on her usual job website that expected to go unanswered. the interview was a series of bumbling answers and numerous coughs, but some way, somehow (a tired interviewer who didn’t give two shits) she landed the job - completely unexperienced and entirely lost.
  
  the only consistency in her life had always been her eyes, dotted around her limbs and of various colours, growing in intelligence as she did. in public, her eyes were commonly hushed whenever they grew too noisy, but it is there that belayed the innate belief that cynthia was born for something more than working in a ramshackle, laughing-stock of a department. she listened to the eyes in the very dark of night and in the early hours of the quiet dawn, listened with the reverence of a religious devotee, took note of every whispered prophecy, every shout of fury towards something cynthia couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
  
  of course, it was all in her head, a reflection of her most inner thoughts spoken through the one thing she couldn’t hide. that’s not to say she didn’t believe it, though - cynthia knew, with all of her god-forsaken heart, that she could do something that would take her past the dimly lit office cubicles, above the angels with blood of only their own, away from the mother they couldn’t see. if only she had the confidence.
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  all is lost to the time
  beyond the fables
  and the circular rise of guileless angels
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello?

  
  
  
  
  

  hello?

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
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  connections.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  name here

  
  
  
  

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  TBA

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

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  extra.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  question

  
  

  answer

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  my body

  
  

  perfume
  genius

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

♡coded by uxie♡