EIRÍKSSON, finley

[finley eiríksson]

finley joy eiríksson

name: Melinda
age: older than 20; younger than 30
writing experience: since I could hold a crayon
how'd you find us?: I made us!
other characters: Caleb, Jordan, Reagan, Gabrielle, and Emerson
where do you most want to travel to?: at this very second (it changes a lot) Gros Morne National Park

name: finley joy eiríksson
age: 18
job: n/a
year: senior
canon or original: original
housing: still lives with her family on their estate in the Kvold valley

hair color: dark blonde
eye color: hazel - with golden undertones as opposed to blue
height: 5'6"
clothing style:
Finley airs on the conservative side when it comes to her choice in clothing. While everything she wears is high-end and well-tailored, she never takes risks with what she wears. Typically she wears jeans and sweaters with delicate detailing. On warmer days Finley is usually found in an empire-waisted dress with a cardigan close by in the event the temperature drops. She detests high heels and is the owner of a rather impressive collection of ballet flats.
distinguishing marks: a faint scar along her jawline

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likes

. raspberry lemonade
. milk chocolate
. charm bracelets
. murano glass
. snowflakes
. the golden embers of a dying fire
. her mother's peanut butter cookies
. journalling

dislikes

. secrets
. diet soda
. having food stuck in her teeth (she had braces as a child)
. spaghetti
. pet fish
. itchy wool socks
. coffee

quirks

. runs her finger along the inner rim of her earlobe whenever she is concentrating on a task
. forever fidgeting with her long hair - braiding and unbraiding; twisting into a knot on top of her head; twirling it around her finger. it's a common amongst her friends that if Finley is focussed on something, she needs her hair to be out of her face
. tends to run her tongue over her teeth to ensure that there is no food stuck there when she thinks no one is looking
. won't go a day without journalling

dreams

. to regain all of the memories that were stolen from her
. to escape her family name

secrets

. love is connotated with physical pain and the idea of falling in love with anyone terrifies her
. her father can be physically and verbally abusive towards her as he tries to help her regain her ability
. has dreams that feel more like memories than anything else; the most common one involves her being in love with Quint Reed

main

. shy and quiet
. hurt
. often feels confused by any mention of the past because her "memories" are borrowed from the stories she has heard and not personal experience
. trustworthy though she does not trust easily
. naive
. studious
. often feels eclipsed by her cousin, Heather and tends to follow along with whatever Heather wants to do
. tends to shy away from physical contact
. fiercely loyal towards those she cares about
. dreamer

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ability: flight

development

I think I remember it. The feeling of weightlessness, the wind in my hair. Looking down and seeing my world beneath my feet, all my troubles far below. I think I remember it, but it could be nothing more than a dream.

beliefs

If it is real, I don't want it. I don't want to give my father anything else that he can harness. I just want to be normal for once in my life. I don't think that's too much to ask.

heritage family: Eiríksson
views on leande:

I hate Leande and everything it stands for. It has ruined us all. It has made us greedy and evil. I wish it never touched us.

views on eventide:

One day I will leave here and never look back. No one will remember me and I won't remember them. The sooner I can get out of here the better.

important people

jonathan eiríksson / father / 53 years old / bewitch
leanne eiríksson / mother / 47 years old / eidic memory
abigail eiríksson / sister / 23 years old / memory manipulation
caleb eiríksson / brother / 21 years old / telepathy

heather eiríksson / cousin / 17 years old / electric manipulation
gabriel shriver / ex-boyfriend / 18 years old / enhanced strength

history

I’m a character in my own story. My memories are not mine but the fabrication of those around me; snippets of stories I supposedly told them. There’s a hole in my past. Years have simply disappeared. I can still recall my childhood: running bare foot through the meadows and making daisy chains with Heather and Abigail. Of sneaking cookies with Caleb when the cook’s back was turned. I can remember father’s stories about Leande and our family. It almost seems like this magic fairytale where I was a princess and nothing bad could ever happen.

Of course I know it’s all pretend; an illusion for anyone looking in. My father plays the part to onlookers. My siblings and I were born out of necessity not desire. He needed an heir to perpetuate the Eiríksson family – an heir he had raised. That was Caleb’s destiny. Abigail and I were just for show. I suppose to anyone outside our home we look like that picture-perfect family with our glossy smiles and immaculate surroundings. The thing with photos is that they don’t speak. They don’t tell you their story. That’s for the viewer to make up, and there is no shortage of stories where my family is concerned. Some are true. Some are lies. I only wish mine was fiction.

My story exists on the tear-stained papers my sister wrote for me. Memories I no longer have. Memories I wish I could bring back.

- - - - - -

Maintaining appearances have always been of the utmost importance to Jonathan Eiríksson. Happiness was second to status and perception. Nothing mattered if that was lost. Their reputation was all that mattered. These were the lessons that Finley and her siblings were taught from an early age.

From her first breath, Finley’s life was planned. She would obtain an education at a prestigious university once she graduated from the local collegiate and then return and marry another Heritage child to ensure a clean legacy for her family. Once her ability manifested – there was never any doubt that she would have one – she would work with her father to hone it and use it tor further the Eiríksson name. This was her destiny as the daughter of the most prestigious of Heritage families. This was her world, and Finley never thought to question it. As far as she knew this was how all the children of Eventide were raised.

She was fifteen when Gabriel Shriver entered her life and her opinions on everything changed. He was different from the Heritage children she had been made to associate with. He didn’t care about her last name or who her father was. He didn’t seem to know the stories that followed the Eiríksson name like an ominous shadow. Instead, he was interested solely in her, and that proved to be intoxicating. Each moment spent with Gabriel was like learning to breathe all over again. She had never realized how sheltered her life was until he came into it, and now that she knew the difference, Finley didn’t want to go back. The more time she spent with Gabriel the less tuned in she was with her own family.

If she had been paying closer attention she would have seen how the tensions between her older brother, Caleb and her father were escalating. Jonathan was angry at Caleb’s sudden interest in a local girl, Hanna. She wasn’t one of them, he would rave, his fists leaving dents in the walls throughout their home as the arguments escalated. It was Caleb that confronted her about Gabriel – one of the many pitfalls of having a brother who is telepathic. “Fin, he’ll kill you. Have you not seen how he is about Hanna and me? C’mon. Even you can’t be that stupid…” She had pleaded with him to keep her secret and ultimately he had agreed.

It was a decision that would plague them both for the rest of their lives.

With her family consumed with Caleb’s relationship, Finley was free to come and go with Gabriel as she pleased. He told her that he loved her, and she replied in kind. But Finley couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off with him. Or perhaps it was her. While she wasn’t certain that she was in love with him, she was also positive that he would be the only one capable looking past who she was. After nearly a year of gently coaxing Finley finally agreed to make love with him. In the warm glow of candles, serenaded only by the wind whistling through the wild grasses, they came together at Sigrún’s Shack. As he held her afterwards and whispered how he loved her, Finley felt empty. Each time after that she willed herself to feel something, until one day she thought she did. Until Finley Eiríksson was certain that she had fallen in love.

Everything changed in the months that followed. Tension filled the Eiríksson household, her brother reduced to a ghost as he anxiously paced the floors. Hanna had vanished, and despite Caleb’s promise that he’d had nothing to do with it, rumours flew. Finley couldn’t walk down the halls at school without someone whispering about her family. Her father, naturally, blamed Caleb for everything. If Caleb had only listened none of this would have happened – this was what happened when his children didn’t follow the plan. Finley’s stomach would tighten with fear whenever her father’s piercing blue eyes would fall on her, certain that he somehow knew her secret; guilt twisting like a knife whenever he would praise her for being an obedient daughter.

It was this guilt and fear that she first blamed for the sickness she felt every morning. Only when her cousin, Heather, commented in passing that Finley should get tested did she think of another alternative. It was the only time she had ever stolen, but Finley couldn’t chance her father finding out. When she was safely home, a plastic strip confirmed her fears: she was pregnant.

Terrified she asked Gabriel to meet her at the shack, certain that with his support she could endure anything. The confession fell with feather softness from her lips. She had not been prepared for his response. Rage consumed him, and she backed against one of the crumbling walls, terrified. Her lips parted in silent plea as he grabbed her. The next hour passed in a pain-induced, semi-conscious blur. When Finley awoke weeks later she was covered in bandages and resting in her room.

She couldn’t remember a thing.

With time her body healed, but she knew something was off. She could feel it in her mother’s averted gaze, or her brother’s clipped conversations over the phone. Her sister –once her greatest ally – would not come near her. After several months of this, Finley mustered the courage to confront Abigail.

Abigail knew what had happened, and more importantly, Finley knew that her sister knew why she couldn’t remember. Tears streamed down her face as her sister explained that their father had forced her to take the memories of Gabriel and the pregnancy from her. She hadn’t wanted to but there was nothing she could do to stop it. Those memories were gone now, like smoke upon the wind. Abigail explained that she had been nervous and something had gone wrong. It was years that had been lost rather than isolated moments.

Frantic, Finley had begged if there was something she could do, some way to regain what had been taken from her. Abigail wasn’t sure, but had tried. It had taken all of her strength, blood trickling from her nose from the exertion, but she had been able to restore small fragments to Finley. These memories, though terrible, are all Finley has now.

With shaking breath, Abigail explained that she had also been made to remove all memories of Eventide and their family from Gabriel and is family. Jonathan had then arranged for a job for Gabriel’s father in England, and they had moved away while she was still recovering from the attack.

- - - - -

I don’t blame Abigail, I blame him. I won’t let father break me again. All I have left is allowing him to believe that I somehow lost my ability. It’s not a complete lie, I haven’t felt that freedom since before. He tries to restore it but only I know the truth: it can’t exist without me, and I will be damned if he gets that, too.

play-by: ann marie van dijk
leande exists within admin edited

writing sample:

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[WHISPER KEEPER]