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IN THE CHAMPAGNE DROUGHT I LOST MY MIND

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[attr="class","freiwantmid"]CHARACTER FACTION team rocket

[attr="class","freiwantmid"]CHARACTER RANK grunt

[attr="class","freiwantmid"]FACE CLAIM lottie person from snotgirl

[attr="class","freiwanttop"]ABOUT THE CHARACTER

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you're no more than scum when you begin. gum stuck to the bottom of someone's shoe is preferable over someone like you.

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you're bred to meld into the underbelly of society. whatever glow you begin to foster inside is meant to be extinguished by the darkness that surrounds you.

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it begins with the vermin you're supposed to affectionately call your parents. they are the ones who are true scum. meaningless and wasteful, the air that fills their head only serves to leave them deflated and futile. you don't know how you're meant to surpass their roles but you will scrape and claw to discover some sort of purpose.

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lumiose is no comfort to you. it's not the shining hub that lures in hordes of visitors with all of its glistening promise. to you, it's a curse. but you're bound to run into its riches, a feat your parents were never able to accomplish. you're clever and cunning; you're everything they are not.

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you build your empire from dirt. you don't care that you're streaked and smear from the grime and filth. it's not much in the beginning, but it's yours. like all great things, you are forced to begin small. you indulge in every scam your mind can create: distractions, suave conversation, hustling, demanding payment for tolls, staged fights, pickpocketing, and pitching false sales. you are believable because you are youthful and comely. a flutter of your eyelashes and a smile sitting on plump lips is all you need. it's all too easy and your empire begins to reach towards the sky.

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you're going to establish a name and reputation for yourself. and you're going to do it by any means possible.

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no one questions you or breaks the surface of your perfectly structured fallacies. your stature is an intricately woven web of words pulled from the air itself. but you insist you're the black widow who wears the crown set with gleaming blood diamonds. everyone is fed your lies and they swallow them whole.

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you attach the title of 'magnate' to yourself and suddenly wealth and reputation follow. it's unsure what exactly you have accomplished; but the world is informed of your prestige. you're sophistication and glamour; it's everything you craved to be. luxury suits you. it fills up the empty hole where your heart is meant to beat. you prefer to be empty. liquor, substances, and anything you fancy drowns you instead. life's easier that way.