KLEIN, Nixie Magdalena [done]

[nixie]

» YOUR NAME; Indigo
» YOUR AGE; 15
» YOUR OTHER CHARACTERS; none...yet
» HOW DID YOU HEAR ABOUT SBR?; an advert on Epic High Academy, another site I rp on

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» FULL NAME; Nixie Magdalena Klein
» AGE; 21
» GENDER; Female
» SEXUAL ORIENTATION; Bisexual
» I AM; Drums in Burning Bridges
» PLEASE PROVIDE A 100x100 ICON to be used on your band/crew page, etc. by the admin.: ICON

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» CELEBRITY/PB; Sar Benett
» HEIGHT; 5 foot 6in
» WEIGHT; Eight stone
» HERITAGE; German
» LINK TO ATLEAST 3 DIFFERENT PICTURES; [1] [2] [3]

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» PERSONALITY; Nixie is, essentially, a sweetheart. She's a loyal, reliable and warm friend, and she'll always be there for anyone who needs her. If anything, she's inclined to be overprotective. She does worry - chronically, and the slightest thing can keep her up at night. She can't bear someone she cares about to be hurting or in trouble and there not being anything she can do - but the other side of that coin is that she'll always try to help, and she never, ever gives up on anyone.
She's very determined, very driven, and this can tip over into obsessiveness. She'd certainly describe herself as an obsessive music fan - she's surgically attatched to her ipod. She can also be slightly obsessive about her appearance - her makeup has to be perfect before she'll go out - and tidiness - she's not the type to leave her things crumpled on the floor. Within reason, though.
Essentially, she's a very happy person. Some people find this hard to believe, seeing her clothes and her makeup, but she is. A committed optimist (or she tries, although even she finds it a struggle a lot of the time) she's always the one trying to cheer everyone up, to the point that people find themselves wanting to strangle that smile off her face. She'll always see the best in people, and she always gives them another chance. Well, mostly. If you hurt Nixie, you'll be able to make it up to her over time. Hurt someone Nixie loves, and she's lost to you forever. She's inclined to be trusting, but she doesn't open up much, even to people she knows well.
If you ask her, Nixie will tell you she's an introvert. She's definitely not a socialite, although she's a long way from antisocial. She likes people. She's just slightly shy towards them. She's quite a good talker, but she has a knack of turning the conversation around to the other person - most people never realise how little they ever get to know about her. If she had the choice, she'd prefer a quiet outing with a few close friends to going out clubbing with a bunch of acquaintances. She's not one of these people who need to constantly be talked to, looked at, the centre of attention. That's not to say she doesn't like a little attention now and again. In fact, sometimes she dresses completely madly just to make people doubletake. She loves that, she finds it hilarious to freak people out.

» LIKES;

• playing drums
• singing
• strawberries
• experimenting with eyeliner
• never quite blending into the crowd
• stripes and stripy things
• writing
• daydreaming
• autumn
• reading
• horses

» DISLIKES;

• backstabbers
• feeling helpless
• people who think girls can't be drummers
• neon colours
• racism
• pimples
• hot, sticky days
• being called Magdalena, or especiallly Maggie (call her Maggie on pain of death!)
• ants

» FAMILY ; Mother, Silke Klein (48)
Father, Michael Wolfgang Klein (49)
Sister, Liesel Anna Klein (11)
Brother, Friedrich Klein (deceased age 3)

» PAST; Nixie Magdalena Klein was born in a peaceful little town in southern Germany. She was a happy baby, always smiling, always laughing, always happy to be cuddled. Growing up in the idyllic Moselle valley, she carried on the same way. Happily. The child everyone wanted. She got on quite well at school - not top in every class, but a long way from bottom. There were two things she excelled at: English, and Music. To begin with, she learned piano, and although she enjoyed that well enough she didn't love it. Nixie's first love was singing, and a part of her heart will always belong to it.
When she was eight, her sister Liesel was born. The little family of three had become a four, and soon became a five when Nixie was nine and Friedrich appeared. It was Friedrich, eventually, who would tear Nixie's idyllic world apart. Nothing to do with him personally. It wasn't his fault that he had beautiful brown curls and chocolate eyes, and attracted attention. It wasn't his fault that this beautiful, bouncing toddler, just three years old, was snatched from a park metres away from home. It wasn't his fault that he was found six weeks later, floating face down in the edge of the river.
Grief is a funny thing. It can change everything irrevoccably in a single moment. All the family reacted differently. Michael threw himself into his work, spending all day and half the night in his carpenter's workshop, wishing the constant movement could block out his feelings. Liesel was only five, too young to really know what was going on, but she became very attention-seeking, throwing tantrums and misbehaving constantly just to have people look at her, talk to her. Silke became distracted, Michael's polar opposite, neglecting everything from her appearance to her children, spending days staring into space by the riverbank. And Nixie? Nixie found herself feeling...well, there's only one word for it. Angry. So impossibly, uncontrollably angry, at Friedrich's killers, at her parents, at herself, at the world. And so, so helpless. A doctor would have said she was depressed and handed her a pillbox, but she didn't have anything. Just herself, her dark moods and her music. She'd sit for hours, deep into the night, blasting rock music through her headphones so loud it almost drowned out her emotions. She dyed her hair, smothered herself in eyeliner, and retreated into herself, keeping her sleeves pulled down.
It was then, on the other hand, that Nixie discovered drums. To begin with it was merely stress release, but before long she began to realise that she really enjoyed playing. Being part of the rhythm, holding the entire piece together, was just exhilerating to her - and at that point she needed more than anything else was to be depended on, to be trusted, and to be able to live up to that. Drumming gave her that. Drumming was her escape; drumming was her saviour.
The family never recovered. Friedrich - nobody ever mentioned Friedrich's death - had torn them apart, split the one happy unit into a thousand fractured pieces, each member a pile of broken glass hung together with sorrow and what was left of their determination. Somehow, they went on living; time passed, and it was two years later when the next lifechanging event of Nixie's life occurred. Friedrich's ghost was everywhere, inescapable - and finally, when Nixie was twelve, her parents decided to move. And not just to another town - all the way to Canada.
Slowly, Nixie began to build a new life, and rebuild herself. The happy girl she'd once been was still in there - buried, beaten down, but still there - and bit by bit she began to emerge again. She kept drumming, kept singing, and when she saw an advert in the paper for a drummer to join a band she jumped at the chance.

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Sample Post [from Epic High]:

And it came to me then
that every plan
is a tiny prayer to Father Time
as I stared at my shoes
in the ICU
that reeked of piss and 409


There were quite a lot of things Indigo was shy about. Safe to say, though, that singing wasn't one of them. She sat crosslegged under the spreading arms of a sycamore, one hand gently caressing the guitar in her lap to coax the music out, completely and utterly absorbed in her own little world.


and I rationed my breaths
as I said to myself
that I'd already taken too much today
and each descending peak
on the LCD
took you a little further away from me
away from me


Times like this were when Indigo was truly happy. She loved slipping away to some quiet place with her guitar and singing to her heart's content. Alone with her songs, she was free as a bird, and she felt like if she only tried, she could fly. And if that's not happiness, what is?


amongst the vending machines
and year-old magazines
in a place where we only say goodbye
it stung like a violent wind
that our memories depend
on a faulty camera in our minds


The notes danced around her head, her deep-as-oceans blue eyes dipped to focus dreamily on the fingerboards. She had longish, expresso-coloured curls tied back with a red scrunchie, and she was dressed simply in jeans, a white shirt with delicate black stripes, and red pumps. As ever, she had charcoal liner flicked across her top lid. Indigo was a self-confessed and unashamed eyeliner addict.


and I knew that you were a truth
I would rather lose
than to never have lain beside at all
and I looked around
at all the eyes on the ground
as the tv entertained itself


This was Indie's escapism. She'd come to the park specifically to sing - it was early evening, the place was quiet, and most importantly free of students. So far, Indigo was loving Epic High; but it would be a long time before she'd feel like she deserved to be there. If she ever did. Her sweet, silky alto swelled into a crescendo as the song reached its climax.


cause there's no comfort in the waiting room
just nervous pacers waiting for bad news
and then the nurse comes round
and everyone lifts their heads
but I'm thinking of what Sarah said


Indigo loved Death Cab for Cutie, especially this song. Every time she heard it, every time she sang it, she felt like crying...but somehow not in a bad way. It made her sad, and somehow at the same time it cheered her up. It was upliftingly sad, she decided. Upliftingly devastating; devastatingly beautiful.


that love is watching someone die

so who's gonna watch you die?

[riley patrick harper ®]

WELCOME TO THE BAND.