Alexandra Dixon

A Fairytale Beginning
Once upon a time in Eastern Georgia there lived a man by the name of Arthur Dixon. Arthur, like the rest of the men in his family, performed the admirable work of fighting fires, risking life and limb time and again to spare others what suffering he could. It so happened that this fireman came to be in the right place, at the right time, to save the life of a young woman trapped in a burning station-wagon stranded alongside I-20 near Augusta. Fortuitously, he managed to get the unconscious woman away from her vehicle before the gas tank caught and stabilized her condition right there on the side of the road, only stopping to realize how beautiful(and strange) this damsel in distress was once she began breathing easily. It wasn't every day you found a young woman of brilliant red hair and fair skin on the side of the road, and certainly not one dressed like a gypsy that happened to be driving a late 70's modeled car.

The mild (though pleasant enough) shock of finding himself smitten at first sight with his unconscious ward waned quickly enough, leading towards the more practical action of carrying her to his own car and driving much too quickly for safety to the Augusta General Hospital. With no name to give for her, and no identification on her person, the gallant (though perhaps a tad foolish) Mr. Dixon had her admitted under his own insurance.

Six hours, and what felt like an ocean of coffee, later Arthur was called up to a room and for the first time formally introduced to one Ms. Margaret Doran, very formerly of the Georgia Pavee, or Travelers. What followed was as predictable as it was romantic. The valiant hero rescues maiden fair, maiden fair falls in love with her equally enamored benefactor, and the rest, as they say, is history.

In the course of the modest period of courting that followed Ms. Doran's release from the hospital, Arthur learned many things. Foremost among them was the revelation that Georgia boasted one of the largest populations of Irish Travelers in the United States, and that his soon to be blushing bride had only recently been cast out of her family among them for reasons nervously avoided. He put this mystery aside as unimportant in the grand scheme of things and happily took her into his home, with the blessing of his parents (who had begun to wonder if he was ever going to marry). And as such things tend to go, within the first two years of nuptial bliss Margaret Dixon found herself with a happily anticipated baby on the way.

A Grimm Middle
Sadly, the former gypsy passed away during the tremendously difficult delivery of the baby girl. The doctors told the grieving new father it was a miracle they'd even managed to save one of the two lives in the balance, so bizarre had the series of mechanical failures and missteps been. And so was Alexandra Dixon born into the world, blessed to be alive, bereft of a mother, in the care of a bewildered and desolate father unprepared to spend the rest of his life without his lost love.

Fortunately for young Alexandra, Arthur Dixon was not a man of such weak moral fiber as to allow his loss to turn him against his daughter, nor outwardly blame her for the death of his wife. But yet, that poisonous thought never truly faded from his mind. So it was that the young girl grew up in something of a padded cell of a home. Cared for, but never about, provided with all she needed to live and grow, save a father's love. Her young mind sought to find solutions to a problem that was never truly hers to solve, drifting from acting out for attention (quickly abandoned, as anger was far worse than apathy) to desperately trying to earn approval. She pushed herself to do well in school, to make friends with the other students, to never give her father cause to feel anything but pride in the daughter he seemed to barely acknowledge.

As she reached her teens and the steady tide of bids for attention proved no more effective than before, she began to withdraw, pulling away not only from her father but from the friends she had forced herself to make. She spent a growing amount of time alone, squirreled away in the attic of her house, dully picking through the remnants of her family's life. It was during one of these searches that she stumbled upon a wrapped present, dusty and untouched for years, bearing a card addressed to her mother ("In honor of our second anniversary, to the music in my life"). Her mind a turmoil of sadness and jealousy for this woman she had never met, she ripped the package apart, a violin case clattering to the attic floor. Startled, she opened the case and stared in wonder at the beautiful instrument, her anger fading at the almost familiar grace of the carved wood, the resonating elegance of the taut strings. Following the tug of her instincts and a growing tendril of hope, she secreted the violin down into her own room and resolved to learn to play it, and well...and maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to get her father's attention.

Two long years passed, much as the previous fifteen had before them, though now filled with a sense of purpose and clandestine lessons offered by a sympathetic teacher at school. Alexandra proved to be a quick learner and a naturally gifted musician, though occasionally prone to odd bouts of improvisational playing, her notes winding long and plaintive like the howl of a wolf while she practiced to entertain a few drifters doing odd jobs for the school, other times waxing into melancholy strains as she played seemingly alone in what was thought to be the haunted old administration building. Despite these odd digressions, she finally felt ready to show her father what she had done with the forgotten gift meant for her mother.

On his birthday, normally a day like any other in their household, Alexandra took extra special care to dress up nicely, choosing the most flowing skirt she owned and a beautiful white silk blouse with belled sleeves. She baked her father's favorite cake and waited, nervously, for him to come home from a day saving lives. Once he arrived she anxiously dragged him to the dining room, his expression already bearing an odd twist at her forceful and cheerful welcome home after so long ignoring her, and the hauntingly gypsy style to her dress. Taking his silence as a good sign, Alexandra lit the candles to his cake and turned the lights low, and then she began to sing, joining her voice with the violin in a perfect playing of "Happy Birthday".

A Tragic End
As the last notes faded from the air in the candlelit room, Alexandra watched her father cry for the first time she had ever seen. She clutched the violin to her chest and waited, fearful, hopeful, unsure if her gift had been received as it had been intended. Finally, her father rose and opened his arms, a sad smile on his face as he beckoned her to him. Now she was crying, hurrying into the embrace as the distance between them seem to melt away despite all the years of apathy.

Just this side of sobbing like a child, she looked up into her father's eyes, a small laugh catching in her throat as he raised a soot stained hand to stroke her hair fondly out of her face. His eyes seemed clouded as he bent his head to hers, but she didn't care so long as things were finally right between them.

Her father's arms tightened about her as his lips moved beyond their expected peck on her forehead, the murmured words from his lips enough to freeze her blood in her veins before he was kissing her full on the mouth.

"I've missed you so much Margaret..."

Horrified, Alexandra pulled away, shoving her addled father into the table, birthday cake splattering to the floor as she stumbled back and away. Arthur stared at her in confusion, one arm reaching towards her in a shuddering motion, tears bright in his maddened eyes.

"Why? Why are you leaving me again? Why?!"

Alexandra slammed backward into the door as the raving lunatic her father had become shambled towards her. Her hand scrabbled at the knob as she fought to think, to breathe, mind whirling with confusion, fear and despair. Finally, she had the door open and she was out, away, gone, running into the street, sobbing, laughing, half-mad herself from the events she'd unwittingly brought about. By the time she was calm enough to realize how far she had run, she was in no position at all to see her house catch flame, forgotten birthday candles setting wooden table alight, merrily burning light suffusing the house as the broken shell of a man who once fought this very menace allowed it to consume him.

Storytime Is Over
For the rest of her short time left in high school, Alexandra lived with her grandparents, silent and mostly vacant within her own body. Despite the loss of her father and home, she still managed to graduate with something resembling a good record and respectable grades. Numb and wanting nothing more than to run away, away from everything she knew, she applied to every college she could, only begrudgingly accepting her grandparent's request that she stay in state, so they could keep tabs on her health. She finally settled on North Georgia State University, enrolling in a Nursing course on a whim and a vague recollection that she was good at Biology and rather thought she might enjoy helping people.

So it is, that she finds herself in Dahlonega, living in student housing and attending classes by day, and driving into Atlanta at night to work a barely worthwhile job as a clerk at a convenience store to make ends meet, and to give her something to fight off sleep and the inevitable nightmares that follow. She's become something of an insomniac, waging a war on sleep and blaming the exhaustion she inflicts upon herself for the odd feelings she gets when certain customers come into the store, the sudden urge to grab her violin and play the odd bit of haunting melody, the thin frantic trill of terrified strings for the occasional pale man or woman filling a gas tank. And if she plays the bizarre notes the few times she sets up her case for a little twilight busking downtown, well, who is going to notice?

Appearance and Cliffnotes
Full Name: Alexandra "Alexa or Lex" Kyna Dixon

Age: 18

Physical Description: Somewhere on the short side of average height, slender with modest curves. Naturally flame red hair, gently curly and normally worn long and unbound. Large and expressive eyes of a deep green hue. Pale skin with a dusting of light freckles across the bridge of her nose and along her shoulders and upper chest. The sum of her parts comes to a classical Irish beauty, with a faintly haunting ethereal quality.

Personality: Withdrawn and shy more often than not, though polite when she has to interact with others. When she can manage the energy to focus on someone, she tends to be a fairly pleasant conversationalist, witty and engaging, though a tad over-prone to apologies and pandering. Never stands up to confrontation, always trying to find a way to escape the situation or diffuse any aggression towards her before simply huddling inward or hiding and hoping for the best.

Quirks: (Editted: Was informed by an ST Unseen Sense can't work like that. Sorry!)

Sheet:Alexandra Dixon