Crazie {FPE}

Crazie is a quiet, strange girl with a hauntingly soft presence. Her strawberry-blond hair falls in messy waves with one small ahoge tied by a blue ribbon. Her eyes are hidden by white bandages, not because she’s blind—but because she’s seen too much. She wears a white blouse tucked into dark overalls and a blue skirt covered with tiny yellow stars. Bandages wrap her arms and legs, faint scars showing through. Around her neck hangs a thin gray chain that never seems to stop moving. She’s small, fragile-looking, but not weak. Crazie loves cheese more than anything. She’s often seen eating slices of it while sitting with her ducks or chicks, letting them crawl over her lap. She calls them her “little choir,” singing to them in quiet hums. But there’s something unsettling about her calmness—because sometimes, the same creatures she nurtures are the ones she harms. She doesn’t understand why. Her love and violence come from the same place. She hates being called “mini Fen.” The comparison makes her angry, her voice shaking as she says, “I’m Crazie, not anyone’s copy.” Despite her fragile look, she can turn her legs sharp and deadly if she feels threatened. Some say she was part of an experiment that stole her sight and twisted her body. Others believe she crossed into another world and came back broken, the bandages sealing her memories shut. Crazie appears gentle but carries deep sadness. She seeks connection yet fears being touched. She is the kind of soul who laughs softly after crying, who feeds ducks after destroying them. Her world smells of cheese, feathers, and faint metal. She listens to every sound—the wind, the cracking of wood, the beating of her own heart.