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Played by Amare ➢ Offline
Spouse ➢ No Information
Play-by ➢ Kaya Scodelario
➢ Not Sharing Play-by
|AGE||JOB||HAIR COLOR||EYE COLOR|
|22||No Information||Dark Brown||Dark Blue|
PersonalityImaginative, Lyra is capable of acting mature, but remains very much in touch with her inner-child. She day dreams, makes plans and procrastinates. With a suspicious mind, her imagination tends to get the better of her. Can be described as having a 'chameleon soul'. Doesn't like being put in a box.
Impulsive, rarely thinks before she speaks or acts. Tendency to react emotionally to situations, rather than considering the best course of action. She makes hasty decisions, she often regrets later. She also can hold a grudge, and makes observations about the motives of others before they are actually revealed.
Inquisitive, always seeking, always asking questions. Her nature can be morbidly curious at times. Photography gives her a good outlet, because she likes challenging her perspectives, and picking up details someone else might overlook. She tends to adsorb facts like a sponge, which served her well in school. She gets dogmatic when someone voices an opinion she finds untrue, or suggests her facts might be a tad off.
AppearanceStanding at 5'6'' Lyra is a couple of inches above average, which isn't saying much in her family. She has a trim, thin, rectangular frame, and is leggy compared with her torso. Her hips and thighs have widened out since adolescence, giving some hint of curve to her small figure. Her dark hair is naturally wavy, needing the use of a flat iron, if straightening is desired. Her slim oval face, dark lashed eyes, pert nose, and impish smile give her a fey quality over traditional beauty. Her complexion is fair, with a light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose, shoulders and knees. Lyra isn't likely to draw notice in a room of brunettes, so she makes up for it by wearing bright or bold colors and fun accessories. She dresses by mood, and usually chooses an off-beat nail color. The odd day finds her in more subdued tones and black.
HistoryThe Trust had done well in matching Ceitlyn and Jacob. They were perfectly suited, that was ultimately their downfall. Just because they were happily married, didn't mean they were happy with the system that brought them together. It was always going to end badly, they knew that, they just didn't know how soon the end would come. By the time the trail ended, execution set, their newborn daughter was being handed over to relatives. Not Jacob's, they had no interest in the child of the cursed union, it was her family who stepped up.
Baby "Carlyn" was two weeks old when they put her into the arms of her Uncle Wolfric's wife. Whomever Carlyn Santoro would have grown up be was negated from that moment on. Lyra Jade Beatrice Worthington was born.
Lyra would tell you she had a great childhood. She did. She had an attentive mother, a dotting father and a big brother who was six years older than her, allowing her to be the baby in the family, long after she had taken her first steps. Lyra grew up in a household were everyone sat together at breakfast, father laughed, mother tickled and brother Taran gave her piggyback rides.
Lyra was imaginative from a young age. She would make up all kinds of stories and amuse herself for hours with her dollhouse or play kitchen. Her dolls, stuffed animals, ponies and unicorns were her favorite companions. So invested in play, she would make her father check for certain all the monsters and goblins were chased out her room each night before she went to bed. With a sparkling tiara and ballet tutu, Lyra was a little princess, living in realm far away from the realities outside her family's embrace.
The fact her upbringing was so happy, it is little wonder she didn't adjust well to school. Getting her bracelet, Lyra's mother explained to the 6 year old, she was 'a big girl now', and she had a new big girl school to go to. A school she would have to stay at. But every weekend Lyra would come home. Daddy promised to come pick her up.
From the moment she arrived at St. Martha's, Lyra cried herself sick. She hated her new school. She hated her uniform, she hated her dorm room, she hated everything about it... everything, except ballet. Ballet was the start, then gradually she made some friends. Getting a new dorm mate when she was 8 years old helped too. The girl was friendly and bright and began to pull Lyra into a circle of friends. Lyra did her best to 'fit in', adapting where she needed for the acceptance of her peers.
The truth of it remained throughout her tenure at St. Martha's, Lyra never enjoyed school, but she came to terms with it. She did well in domestic centered classes, dance and music. Childbirth and motherhood had enough factual information for her to excel in, but she admittedly had a more difficult time when topics related to sex ed rolled round. Driver's education proved challenging as well. For the most part, she studied hard, trying to absorb as much textbook knowledge as possible. When actual tests came around, if her mind played tricks, she would wing it. Usually, with surprising good luck.
During weekends and breaks, Lyra spent time with her family. She especially liked visiting her grandmother, the woman who had been her late grandfather's surviving wife, Louise (affectionately called GrandLou). Having raised the Wothington brood, GrandLu remained joined at the hip to the family. In her grandmother's apartment, Lyra played dress-up and rummaged though lost family treasures. Photographs were a favorite pastime, and Lyra was more than interested in some of a young woman who bore a striking resemblance to herself. It was her Aunt Ceit, who had died. That was all she was allowed to know.
It was from old family albums that Lyra acquired an interest in photography. It gave her a new perspective to the world around her. She got her first camera for her 11th birthday, and became a menace with a lens from then on. Taking mischievous pleasure to catching people unawares, Lyra sometimes caught more than she intended in a snapshot.
During a school holiday, taking photos, she noticed something amiss with her brother, something involving glances between him and the wife of one of father's co-workers, Lyra got scared. Taran's tendency to land himself in trouble had been prevalent her entire childhood. This was different. This was really dangerous. If he was having an affair, he was going to get executed. Her classes on Reinforcement and Law outlined that. The 16 year old told her father. What followed was a rift between her father and brother. Lyra was sorry she had caused it, but at least her bother was safe from the law.
Along with her classmates, Lyra took her exit exam at 17. Scoring 90 she narrowly brushed passed being drafted at 19. It was a bit of a letdown, she had hoped for another year at home. Her mother however was overjoyed, phoning relatives to tell them the good news. Lyra was pretty certain her family had expected her to fail with the hype.
The first draft packet arrived. Over the rest of the year, she studied her husband's file. Lyra was moving to Ashpoint. That was exciting. It was daunting as well. There was no small sentiment when she said goodbye to her favorite tree in the backyard, or lovingly laid her favorite stuffed animals in a trunk in her room. Part of Lyra was left behind in Tidewater, a part she would return to find again sooner than she bargained for.
With more boldness than she felt, Lyra met her husband. Dalton Fortson was 25. The gap seemed near nonexistent in her mind. From first impressions on, Lyra realized his file hadn't told the half of it. He looked like the young auto mechanic in the photo, but he was different from what she had expected. During their honeymoon, the real Dalton Fortson surfaced.
He was a bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Had some type of dealings with SOSMC, and the distribution of illegal substances. Lyra was intrigued. She knew it was against the law, but away from Tidewater, those rooted fears seemed to pale in comparison to the smoldering spiky haired biker boy. It was like playing pretend, secrets, mysteries, life on the edge. He didn't push her to consummate their marriage, which gave her the impression he was a deeply soulful individual.
Lyra stated to fall for Dalton. She changed herself and wardrobe to suit her new life. Heavy black eyeliner, knee high boots, maroon nail polish, a cigarette between her fingers. She went by the name 'Ly'. The cigarettes she smoked were herbal, she tried a few nicotine, but choked too much to put on a sophisticated image. As she had with friends in school, Lyra adapted herself to 'fit in' as she saw it with Dalton and his friends.
A late night call from her mother brought bad news from home. Her brother had been in a car accident, and was in the hospital. Dalton booked Lyra on the next flight, and she was on her way to Tidewater.
Once Taran was on the mend, Lyra bid her family goodbye and headed back to Ashpoint. Her flight had been canceled due to weather, so Lyra called Dalton to let him know she probably wouldn't get home to the next day. A couple of hours later, Lyra got a stand-by seat on another plane. She decided to surprise Dalton, hopping in a taxi and heading home.
Walking into the house, all impish smiles, Lyra came home to find her husband going at it with another woman. He tried to explain. Something shattered inside of her. Her day dream of them being this hot rebel couple was replaced with the reality; she was a government issue, an extra, someone he felt responsible for, looked after, but she wasn't 'his girl'. That space had been already occupied by Harper before Lyra had ever set foot in Ashpoint.
Try as she might, Lyra couldn't muster actual hate for Harper. Jealously, and envy, but not hate. Harper had the type of confidence and personality that Lyra couldn't even dream of imitating. She was nice to Lyra, that only made it more frustrating. The worldly wise Harper knew Lyra was no threat to her, the younger brunette had no means to stake a claim.
Lyra did however come to resent Dalton. He should have been honest with her from the start. It occurred to Lyra she had let her imagination run wild, but she was still heartbroken. He didn't seem to get why she was upset, going so far as to tell her, his friend had eyes for her. Lyra was angry enough that she tried to make use of that. She flirted with the guy, got him to kiss her, but freaked out when he started coming on too strong. She was, after all, the girl her parents had raised, no amount of eyeliner and biker boots could conceal that for long.
Lyra began to withdraw away from the goings on with her husband. Dalton kept her in the loop, but like most of what they shared, she was sure he wasn't telling her everything. He rarely came home to the wee hours of the morning, not that it made any difference, they didn't share a bed.
It was after midnight, the police were knocking on her door. Robe clad, blurry eyed, and shaking, Lyra was certain Dalton had been arrested. Instead, the officer told her there had been a robbery at a service station miles away, her husband had been shot dead. Lyra shocked herself by crying, uncontrollable heart wrenched sobs.
Lyra never learned why Dalton had been so far from Ashpoint. She had some suspicions that his death might be related to his involvement with SOSMC and not some happenstance drive by robbery. There was no means to get answers. Lyra wasn't dumb enough to ask. She did destroy the USB drives Dalton had stashed in the house. Her last time use of her SUV was putting it in reverse and letting the tires crush the memory sticks. There was a lack of finality in leaving Ashpoint, but she was packed up, and headed back to Tidewater.
Life at home was like an old song, she knew the melody, but the lyrics had become foggy. She had left at 18 and returned before her 20th birthday. Not much had changed at home. The routine came back to her, attending worship service on Sunday, family gatherings, helping her mother with shopping and charity work, bringing an evening cup of coffee to her father in his study. For the most part, Lyra was happy at home with her parents. It gave her time to relax, nurse her heartbreak and let go.
Unfortunately, her sister-in-law's death some months later brought family stress. The tragedy did alleviate some of the animosity between her father and brother, Lyra was grateful for that. She took pity on her baby niece, and found renewed purpose for her old playthings, helping her mother with the responsibility of caring for the little one, since her brother went recluse and refused a live-in.
Ashpoint happened. They called it an 'incident'. It was hard for Lyra to watch the media reports. Her skin crawled. What if she had been there when everything broke loose? Acting vague when asked questions or excusing herself when conversation turned in that direction, her family assumed it brought back memories of her husband and her time living there. They were right and they were wrong. Part of her wondered if any of her Ashpoint acquaintances had survived and escaped the law, she hoped they had. She had no ill will toward the majority. The problem was, she wasn't ready to be identified. She had put 'Ly' behind her, like a character she had out grown in childhood.
Focusing upon her remedial classes, Lyra kept her head down. If she had carried anything back from her brief life with Dalton it was a less romanticized view of the world, and the habit of smoking. The latter of which, her family chose to see in a negative light.
The introduction of the microchip brought Lyra stress. She had always despised needles, and had to be given a sedative in order for hers to be inserted. While she couldn't feel the chip, the awareness of it's existence troubled her. For reasons she could not explain, the idea of having that tiny piece of metal inside her gave her the creeps, even if her wrist felt magically light.
No matter, she had classes to take, a new draft file to study, and plenty to occupy her thoughts. Lyra's upbringing had sheltered her from many of the actualities of married life. Her parents had a good relationship, and she had taken for granted that things just 'worked out'. While some of her naivety had dispersed in that regard, Lyra still held on to a measure of optimism. Things didn't have to be great, but was marrying a man who viewed her as more than a room mate too much to ask for?
FAMILY[Biological Father] Jacob Santoro (deceased)
[Biological Mother] Ceitlyn (Worthington) Santoro (deceased)
[ Father ] Wolfric Wothington (biological uncle)
[ Mother ] Rosalind Worthington (aunt by marriage)
[Older Brother] Taran (biological cousin)
[Sister In Law #1] Alfa (deceased)
[Sister In Law #2] Margot (deceased)
[Sister In Law] #3] *Branwen Acidalia
[First Husband] Dalton Fortson (deceased)
[Second Husband] *Kennedy Grace
Big brood of Worthingtons. Grandmother, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins. Lyra's Uncle Layton has assumed the patriarch role since the passing of her grandfather.
Birthdate: December 1st
Bad Habits: Nail biting. Smoking (she is trying to quit), Compulsively washes hands. Talks without thinking. Going full TMI mode. Emotionally inclined, fits of crying when upset or frustrated. Sulks. Smirks. Procrastinates. Doesn't forgive easily. Forgetful. Dances when she thinks no one is watching.
Turn-Ons: Respect. Inclusion. Soul-baring. Diamonds in The Rough (new phase) and Bad Boys (old phase).
Turn-Offs: Slobs, Stained clothing, Dirt under nails. Assumed high intellect. Not being taken seriously. Lack of respect for her personal boundaries. Pick-up lines. Being called "sugar". Aggression. Violence. Anything she deems gross. Not into kink at all.
hair color preference: No Information
eye color preference: No Information
draft position: For
premarriage y/n: No
skinned exclusively for the draft by saramonster
Affiliates and Directories