6th character addition granted by : bara the mercenary
N A M E
Annyeonghaseyo, my name is Seo Minji. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance... In American terms, my first name would be Min, middle name Ji, and last name Seo...sort of. It's really like Minji without a middle name, but we'll just break it up in three parts for now - it's easier.
Minnie is okay. I've always liked the sound of that, so if Minji is too difficult to pronounce, you can call me Minnie.
I'm 16 years of age, and I am currently attending, well, I was, my second year of high school.
My birthday is December 6th, and coincidentally, I love the wintertime. It's a nice and calm time where the snow falling in New York is so pretty. For once in a long time, on Christmas Eve, there's no sound of beeping symphonies that disrupt my alone time. Winter is really nice. The pure snow is beautiful, and I love looking out my window and seeing the city covered with a white blanket of snow, but I'm getting off topic. Mianhe, I have a bit of an attention problem - ADHD to be exact, but we can get into that later.
I'm of the female species.
Males are nice company. I tend to stray away from females because they like to gossip, and I don't like getting involved in situations where there is gossip. To my prior experiences with it, it hasn't been very pleasant. I always see it ending with one girl hurt, and the other one smug.
Godly parent? Oh, the man that umma fell in love with... I'm not sure, but it's my mission to find out. I wonder if he's a social butterfly like umma, or maybe he's quiet like I am... But would umma fall for somebody with such an introverted personality like me?
My mother, Seo Hyori, gave birth to me. I treasured Umma a lot...
I'm 5'3, and I weigh about 45kg. I'm of Korean descent and on my grandmother's side, there is some Japanese and Taiwanese blood mixed in. I'm definitely on the petite side and have a high metabolism. My hair is black and reaches down to about the middle of my back. There was a point in time when I was modeling for a side job to get some cash, and I wore a blonde wig for that, so if you see pictures of me with blonde hair, that's why. I still have the wig actually, and sometimes I'll wear it, but not often. Either way, I still blend in with the background pretty well. My eyesight is fine, and I am usually seen in clothing that isn't form fitting because I find it much easier to move around in. I also wear a lot of hoodies and jackets, and in my wardrobe is a few dresses here and there, but definitely not many.
Skills? Would being 'invisible' count? I went through grade school, middle school, and my first year of high school unnoticed by people who had been going to the same grade school as me. They didn't know that I existed, and the teacher often forgot who I was when she called roll... I don't think it's a bad thing though. It's nice to have some peace and quiet in the day, and during lunch, I can eat peacefully on the rooftop by myself. I'm also rather flexible. My mom always told me that I danced like a swan, but she's my mom, so she's pretty much required to talk like that. I'm not great at dancing, but it did catch my interest when I was in grade school. I was often waiting for my mom to pick me up after school, and in my waiting spot in the shade, I could see the dance studio where girls who were both younger and older did ballet. When I got home, I wanted to try, so I mirrored the moves with little success. Umma noticed, and I guess she was glad that there was finally something that caught my attention, seeing how she left in a hurry and came back with lots of books and videos about dancing, but I still prefer ballet over the different types. I'm not very good with most others, but I have caught on to a few more modern dance moves from seeing some classmates talking about it.
Destructive? I've only fought once before in my whole life, and I vowed never to do it again. That time, I used the nearest thing at the time, which was a giant encyclopedia. Picking up a weapon is foreign to me, and my body rejects it in a way. I drop it almost immediately, and I have no intention of learning how to use them anytime soon.
+ Being Invisible
+ Stuffed Animals
+ Quiet Surroundings
+ Music, preferably piano music
+ Dancing, mostly ballet, but I have danced to more modern music before.
+ Puppies
+ Listening
- Unfairness
- Violence / Fighting
- Social Activities
- Death
- Blood (Fear of Blood)
- Other People Getting Hurt
- Hospitals
P E R S O N A L I T Y
I seem to come off as rather apathetic to most people, but that's just because they don't really know me. I haven't really had close friends before, so I'm a bit socially awkward I guess... I don't like fighting at all, and I'm a full out pacifist. I'm the complete opposite of Umma. She's like the social butterfly, so I guess in a way we complete each other. Umma tends to chat up people and befriend them easily, while it takes me a long time to get to know them, then trust, then open up for friendship. I suppose we're like the two opposite spectrums of the yin & yang, but Umma's great. I really do miss her. I'm introverted and don't make moves to communicate because most people forget I'm there already, and it's just more beneficial to listen instead of actively engage in a conversation in my opinion. Personally, I feel that listening to others is an admirable trait, and I can learn so much more than if I had to speak of my own experiences. I am very independent, and the only real 'friend' I've had in life is Shun. That's probably because people don't remember who I am. I capture their attention for 3 seconds as they realize that I'm in their class, despite me being in their class for more than 5 years in a row - they seem to think I'm a new student, and all new students are captivating. That is, until they realized that I rarely spoke. My means of communication with others is usually limited to simple head gestures like nods, and if I do speak - I talk in a soft voice that's rarely heard above a whisper. But I listen to everything. The trees blowing in the wind can capture my attention in the middle of class or the basketball bouncing on the concrete 2 blocks ago in the neighborhood. I suppose that I would be better suited as a blind person. Just closing my eyes and listening to sounds may be one of the most enjoyable activities to me...
My tale begins 16 years ago when I came out of the Seoul National University Hospital back in South Korea. Umma often tells me the tale of how she fell in love when she went to America to study abroad. That's how I was born, a ephemeral love that wasn't like those fairytale endings where everything turned out right, but I can't say it turned out badly either. When I came out of the hospital, harabeoji, or grandfather in English, was ashamed of my birth. A mother at 25? And to top it off, she was unmarried and mothering a foreigner's child. It was disgraceful for harabeoji's reputation. He punished my mother severely, refusing to ever acknowledge me. After all, nobody wanted a heir that had been diagnosed with defects, and for me, that was asthma. At the time, harabeoji's condition was worsening, and everybody knew that he needed an heir soon. Unfortunately, harabeoji had all daughters, and people who weren't immediate family was instantly refused. He was strict and traditional, and he was waiting for one of his daughters to give birth to a son. Umma was the eldest of the 3 daughters, and she had been going to marriage meetings regularly. There was one male that expressed immediate interest in marriage, but she politely declined, telling harabeoji that she wished to go to America, and when she came back, she promised she would follow his wish and get married. At the age of 20, umma left Seoul to go to New York and study fashion designing, a secret dream of hers. Harabeoji never even imagined that she would come back with me.
The effect was instantaneous, and harabeoji's value in the stock market dropped once word got out that there was foreigner's blood mixed in with the company now, and a single mom who had never once been married. The marriage requests stopped not only for umma, but for the other two sisters as well. Harabeoji didn't know what to do. For punishment, he locked umma and I in a bedroom, and servants came to bring us 3 meals a day. It was like prison for umma. A few years passed as umma had quickly gotten over her depression that only lasted one month. Despite harabeoji deciding to never acknowledge me as part of the family, she was going to try her best to raise me as a respectable young lady. I was taught formal speech and how to greet others, and she also taught me English. As the years passed, I grew taller with each coming day, and then a miracle arrived. Imo, mother's younger sister, had been lucky enough to fall in love with a male, who was rather high up in the social ladder and didn't care about the bad rumors which surrounded our family despite his mother's disapproval of the marriage. Harabeoji was managing as he didn't rely on reputation to keep the company going. He used pure force and stock market knowledge to climb up again. When I was 4, imo was pregnant, and lucky for harabeoji - it was a son. Finally. With all the festivities, umma was forgiven, but harabeoji was strict - I was never going to be acknowledged. Umma made up her mind. She didn't want me to live like this, so after imo gave birth, she was going to leave Seoul with me once more and move to America for good.
Imo gave birth to a son, Tae Sun, who was lucky enough to be born successfully without any ADHD, dyslexia, or asthma, and harabeoji was overjoyed. He could finally have a heir to the business. The move for America had been planned, and everything was ready. Umma told her sisters and everybody, thanking them for everything, but she didn't tell harabeoji. His current happiness didn't last long. We moved from Seoul when I was 5, and umma brought me to the place she fell in love, New York. There, she opened up a small alterations shop with a boarding room above where the two of us resided. I grew up in a middle class environment and went to a public school. What my mother always found strange about me was that ever since I spoke my first words in Seoul when I was 13 months old, I haven't said a thing since, but I understood everything. As umma grew increasingly worried that I might be a mute, I reassured her with the childish speak that I knew. Growing up as a bilingual, I normally choose to stay silent rather than speak, and my mother finally realized that it was because I was processing my surroundings, and I was a listener, the opposite of her. Still, a mother's worry couldn't be put to rest so easily, so I school-hopped often because she thought that I wasn't bringing home friends, therefore, she came to the completely false solution that I was being excluded in school. Umma was never afraid to speak her mind, and she often marched into the schools right into the principal's office, yelling at them about being racist, despite both the principal and my sorry attempts at explanations. Umma really cherished me, and after calling them racist, she hurriedly bought me a yorkie-poodle mix that I named Shun, saying that he wouldn't be racist. I love Shun; he's very energetic and friendly.
Throughout this time, umma still kept in contact with my imos, and they often talked freely about small things from Coach purses to Tae Sun and my childhood, but I knew there was something wrong. Since the first year that I moved to New York with umma, there was one month where she was silent. Coming home seemed like a chore to her, and it was only much later when I finally learned what had happened. Grade school came and went like a storm, and I was already 9 now. I wasn't always at the top of my class, nor was I the worst student. In simpler terms, I was average. My school years were a bit.. interesting. It was a complete learning experience for me. My teachers usually counted heads to make sure that everybody was here, but every once in a while, they would actually do the roll and go down the list, calling everybody's name out. Whenever they got to me, they would stop, stare at me for a long time as if trying to process my face, and then the rest of the class would proceed to do the same. It was almost like a superpower. I was invisible, and I didn't stand out at all. Unlike people with names that you couldn't forget, I had the opposite effect. I was the girl that nobody could remember. The years passed, each year repeating itself as the same butterfly effect would occur with this invisibility trend. Umma seemed to finally understand that I wasn't a people's person like she was. Every time she introduced me to a client, they would often come by the next week to pick up their order and mention something about how young umma looked, thinking she was in her early 20s, and umma would always remind them that she had a daughter already, shocking them into disbelief. Life was just one big learning experience for me.
Middle school dragged along, and I was 11 years old when umma finally decided to tell me. Three days after we had moved to Seoul, harabeoji had a heart attack as he was told of where we had gone, and he was in a coma for 2 weeks before pronounced deceased. During these kind of situations, umma's face looked to be the age she really was, and I knew from observing others who mirrored these emotions, that this was the right time to hug her. Umma cried as she repeatedly told me about how she raised me badly, making me a mute, but I gently corrected her. The reason I rarely spoke was because I didn't deem it necessary. As umma cried, we stayed in a hug for a long time. After that incident, I suppose we bonded, if that's the correct terminology. We grew closer, and I spoke with her more often, so she wouldn't worry or blame herself for 'making me mute'. I went through middle school with ease, and my invisible presence stayed the same, and I had no interest in changing that. I suppose as I got older, umma felt that it was time for me to learn about appa, my father whom I never questioned. She told me stories of how their love was. She often compared it with seeing the sun rise. It didn't last long, but it left a never-ending impression. Umma says that she will never love a man the way she loved him. I asked her if she planned on staying unmarried and single because I knew a lot of men were interested in her, but they often shied away when they heard her talk about me. Of course, they forgot she was a mother quickly, and they tried courting her again, but umma rebuked their efforts by claiming that I was her main priority. But I didn't like her being unhappy if I was the reason, but umma said I wasn't.
I was entering my first year of high school where the first big tragedy kind of thing in my life came in; umma was diagnosed with the same life-threatening cancer that halmeoni had gotten at an early age as well. That was when I first encountered my fear for blood. Umma had been coughing blood, and I rushed her to the hospital after pulling over a taxi. We got there, and I fainted due to the blood. I don't think it was the blood though, I think it was the fact that my most important person was in a dire state that frightened me. Anyways, despite my beg for stem-cell treatment, umma said she didn't need it, and I couldn't refuse. The happy look on her face as she told me that she was okay was obvious. She didn't need to be hospitalized yet because the condition wasn't in lethal mode quite yet. Umma stopped working so many hours because I forced her to quit, and I continued my education via her request. In May of freshman year, she had to be hospitalized. This was when I finally learned everything about my father. Umma explained to my 15 year old self that my father wasn't... normal. At first, I was confused, but when I saw how sincere umma looked, I finally accepted it. Those last few weeks with umma, I was by her bedside 24/7, and I read about Greek mythology when she slept, and one day, she never woke up.
With Shun, I sold the alterations shop and quit school. I know that umma would have wanted me to finish, but I had I new goal in mind. I would find this treasured love of umma's and inform him of her passing, while at the same time, I was curious to meet appa. Since I was so unlike umma, maybe I had a similar personality to him. As Shun and I jumped from cheap rooms, and I got this feeling that somebody was following us. As we left, I finally caught my follower, which was strangely my neighbor's son who was 2 years younger than me, I was about to confront him, but we were attacked by the hotel owner, who wasn't just a jolly old man like I had originally thought. He was actually a gryphon, and I recognized him from the books that I read. I tensed, and that lack of reaction got my neighbor, Peter, hurt. In that indecisive moment, he had been attacked by the gryphon and had a huge gash across his chest. Blood. I froze up as he yelled at me, telling me to attack the gryphon. I had never fought before, so taking out my large Greek mythology book that was look overdue was probably not the best weapon of choice. Peter fought the gryphon while injured, and I finally jumped in, chucking the book at its head, and somehow, it disappeared.
Of course, here came the stereotypical ending as Peter closed his eyes, fishing out some brochure from his pocket as I called his name over and over again. All he said was 'Go' before he mirrored my mother's motions. He was gone. To protect me, he sacrificed himself. My fear of blood caused me to stay frozen for a long time before I finally came to my senses. Looking at the brochure, it was decorated with Greek, and for some reason - I could read it. I just figured that it tied in with the fact that I was a demigod, as told by umma, and I now had a new place to go. For umma and Peter who both sacrificed their lives, I would go to this 'Camp Half-Blood' and meet my father. Just once would be enough. With poor Shun who had been terrified, hiding underneath a car, we left after I realized that Peter poofed as well. Now I have a new goal to accomplish, and with Shun, I will find umma's loved one. She loved him as much as she had loved me, so he had to have meant a lot to her. Umma, for you, I will reunite you with him once more. I will make sure he visits your grave and knows of how much you loved him.
Fatal Flaw... that's an interesting question. I wonder... Maybe it's how easily I blend into the crowd. Or it could be that I refuse to fight. Hm. In all honesty, I believe that it's my fears. I'm indecisive when a fear is presented, and instead of thinking quickly on my feet like I normally do, I freeze up and often remember umma in a coughing fit of blood or Peter as he jumped in front of me to take the hit. I don't fight, and I know that self-defense is always a good mechanism to have, but I am a bit deluded into thinking that it's ok, and it's possible to compromise without fighting. I've just been lucky to not have encountered anymore monsters yet on my journey to Camp Half-Blood. I noticed that technology was a trigger because when I was leaving the hotel, I was going to call up a taxi with the pay phone, and since then, Shun and I have both steered clear of places with technological advances that would be like monster bait. I just don't see why people have to fight and get hurt. Why can't they talk it out?
