Welcome to Gaia! ::

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|xXx|❊ 『ｎａｍｅ』 • Jordan Lux Cyra Thorn
|xXx|❊ 『ａｌｉａｓ（ｅｓ）』 • Cyra
|xXx|❊ 『ｇｅｎｄｅｒ』 • Female
|xXx|❊ 『ａｇｅ』 • Twenty
|xXx|❊ 『ｒａｃｅ』 • Caucasian Halfblood
|xXx|❊ 『ｓｅｘｕａｌ ｏｒｉｅｎｔａｔｉｏｎ』 • Bisexual, leans towards men
|xXx|❊ 『ｙｅａｒｓ ｉｎ ｔｈｅ ｌｅｇｉｏｎ』 • Three
|xXx|❊ 『ｃｏｈｏｒｔ』 • Second

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|xXx|❊ 『ｆａｔｈｅｒ』 • Alexander James Thorn
|xXx|❊ 『ｍｏｔｈｅｒ』 • Arcus
|xXx|❊ 『ｓｉｂｌｉｎｇｓ』 • No mortal or full blooded siblings
|xXx|❊ 『ｃｈｉｌｄｒｅｎ』 • None

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|xXx|❊ 『ｓｋｉｌｌｓ』 • Musical Inclination
|xXx|❊ 『ｓｋｉｌｌｓ』 • Artistic Prowess
|xXx|❊ 『ｓｋｉｌｌｓ』 • Agility and Flexibility
|xXx|❊ 『ｓｋｉｌｌｓ』 • Healing/First Aid
|xXx|❊ 『ｓｋｉｌｌｓ』 • Hand-to-Hand Combat

|xXx|❊ 『ｇｉｆｔｓ』 • Claim
|xXx|❊ 『ｇｉｆｔｓ』 • Claim
|xXx|❊ 『ｇｉｆｔｓ』 • Claim
|xXx|❊ 『ｇｉｆｔｓ』 • Claim
|xXx|❊ 『ｇｉｆｔｓ』 • Claim

|xXx|❊ 『ｗｅａｐｏｎｒｙ』 • Imperial Gold Katar ☠
|xXx|❊ 『ｗｅａｐｏｎｒｙ』 • Switchblade ☠

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|xXx|❊ 『ｌｉｋｅｓ』 • Martial Arts
|xXx|❊ 『ｌｉｋｅｓ』 • Bright Colours
|xXx|❊ 『ｌｉｋｅｓ』 • Dark Places
|xXx|❊ 『ｌｉｋｅｓ』 • Mixing, Recording, and Listening to Music
|xXx|❊ 『ｌｉｋｅｓ』 • Painting

|xXx|❊ 『ｄｉｓｌｉｋｅｓ』 • Crowds
|xXx|❊ 『ｄｉｓｌｉｋｅｓ』 • Parties
|xXx|❊ 『ｄｉｓｌｉｋｅｓ』 • Bright Lights
|xXx|❊ 『ｄｉｓｌｉｋｅｓ』 • Being the Center of Attention
|xXx|❊ 『ｄｉｓｌｉｋｅｓ』 • Show-Offs

|xXx|❊ 『ｆｅａｒｓ』 • Being totally alone
|xXx|❊ 『ｆｅａｒｓ』 • Falling in love
|xXx|❊ 『ｆｅａｒｓ』 • Death
|xXx|❊ 『ｆｅａｒｓ』 • Heights
|xXx|❊ 『ｆｅａｒｓ』 • Dogs

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|xXx|❊ I, like Father was, am an artist. In fact, my artistic inclination is due mostly to Father's art, which involved me a lot as a child. I cannot remember when it was simply taking pictures, but I do remember being painted from head to toe, and those were the pictures I liked the best. I was like a butterfly-- small and quiet, beautiful and mainly ignored by the rest of the world. That feeling, the small fluttering feeling that allowed me to feel happy, remains with me today in the body art and music which I dedicate myself to. Of course, my multiple piercings and exotic hair and make-up choices generally isolate me from the public. The bonus? I like it that way. That sort of comfort in isolation only really comes with getting bullied, and I was bullied a lot when I was little. Before I knew it, I was in private lessons because if they didn't manage to get me down I'd beat the s**t out of all of them. I'm really smart, although being obsessive compulsive comes with certain downfalls. I came out of it pretty well, though. I don't remember that time too clearly, it was more or less repeating the same thing every day. Father got involved in some studio thing, and he moved far away and left me to my vices. One day I just woke up in the hospital-- literally a bloody mess. The doctors told me I had been attacked by a dog. All I thought at the time was "that is one damn nasty Rottweiler". But it happened again and again. I started trying to defend myself, but I realized quickly that it doesn't work so well when whatever's attacking you is double your size and immune to pain. After a few hospital trips and a long time kicking any dog that got too close I woke up with something sharp, shiny, and pointy at the end of my bed. It was the first day of summer, I remember clearly. Now, I learned quickly that that worked a whole lot better than the switch blade. Of course, it sucks on normal people.

Have you ever gotten cravings for something really late at night? Like, you know, triple cheese and anchovy with spinach pizza cravings really late at night? Well, I do. Rather, I did. I'd like to tell you: opening your door to go out and ravish yourself in a delicious pizza and finding a pack of wolves there really dampens the whole romance of midnight snack cravings. I still wonder what people were seeing when they watched me get dragged down the road by a pack of wolves, screaming and flailing and kicking like I was about to get raped. By the time they actually got me to the forest to present me to an even bigger dog I was thoroughly pissed; although not even a kick from a brown belt in tai kwon do seemed to be able to get me out of the situation. I swear, with the amount of insolence I showed that damn wolf it's a miracle she didn't just eat me. By the time she was through with me, and deemed me 'good enough' for camp, I couldn't exactly say I liked canines any better... hell, it's a miracle I don't hate them even more for the whole mess. And then arriving at camp it became a gamble to determine where I'd be living for the next decade (a lovely little tidbit I could have done without) and that was when I met Cedric. AKA? Trouble. It's not that he's a bad kid, but it just sort of seems like trouble follows him, you know? He's the head of the second cohort and when they were getting to shove me off into the slums of the fifth line he vouched for me; I guess you could say I was pretty lucky to wind up where I did.

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|xXx|❊ I'm cool with any animal that isn't, you know, canine.
|xXx|❊ I'm a pescetarian by preference, not by morals.