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CANON: Sally
HEIGHT: No Information
QUOTE: "But I'm restless! I can't help it!"
AGE: 28
ALIAS: Layla
MOVIE: The Nightmare Before Christmas
CANON GIF: http://25.media.tumblr.com/962cf68da3745982e84883c7e704ff71/tumblr_muffflTt9m1r0qp6so1_1280.gif
APPLICATION: http://endlessdiamondsky.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=6397&st=0&#entry19739
SHIPPER: http://endlessdiamondsky.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=6071&st=0&#entry19725
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single
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LYRICS: "Pass the Crystal spread the tarot, in illusion comfort lies..."
PROFILE GIF: https://68.media.tumblr.com/b4e17a53f1d30f66fd5356a3afab2313/tumblr_o7ep9swaUL1sk0xezo1_500.gif
SEXUALITY: heterosexual
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Joined: 13-February 17
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Local Time: Apr 28 2017, 04:22 AM
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sally autumn tailor

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Mar 5 2017, 05:09 PM
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<div style="font-family: kristi; font-size: 25px; text-align: left; padding-bottom: 8px;">Ingrid ,</div>

<div style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 85%; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">Thank you so much for contacting me about commissioning a design. What is it your looking for? ~</div>
<div style="font-family: kristi; font-size: 25px; text-align: right; padding-top: 5px;">Sally Tailor</br><br></div>

<div style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 85%; font-size: 12px; text-align: right;">The Skeleton Soul Boutique</align></div></div> <don't yiv><a href="http://cttw.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=112">*****</a></centre>
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Feb 20 2017, 08:13 PM
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<img src="https://manekin3k0.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/sally1.jpg" style="background-size: cover; background-position: center;">

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<p><i>'Every portion of the soil was peopled with plants and herbs, which, if less beautiful, still bore tokens of assiduous care; as if all had their individual virtues, known to the scientific mind that fostered them. Some were placed in urns, rich with old carving, and others in common garden-pots; some crept serpent-like along the ground, or climbed on high, using whatever means of ascent was offered them...'</i></p>

<p>The book lay open in her lap, the yellowed pages giving up it’s age to the wide eyes which traced the lines with a fond familiarity. It had taken her a while to find what she was looking for. The park was huge, populated with tree lined alleyways and twisting paths so intricate (and in some places overgrown) that it was easy to find yourself turned around amidst the humming wings of insects without much effort. </P>

<p>It was both the wild and cultivated beauty that Sally loved about places like this and as she sat, legs curled to the side beneath the patchwork hippie skirt she wore (the black patent leather of her doc marten boots shining a little in the afternoon light) she turned the page, the paper dry against her fingertips and cast her eyes out over the collection of vibrant plants growing in front of her. Each one was beautiful, petals and berries glinting like jewels in the sunshine...and each one was poison.</p>

<p>For Sally, identifying the plants had been easy but if you asked her how she’d done it given how easy it was to mistake some for other less ‘potent’ versions of their genus, her answer would be less than scientific; she just knew. It was one of the many mysteries that made up her being. Sally was a mystery, in both the figurative and literal senses and no one wanted to solve that mystery more than she did.</p>

<p>The afternoon sunlight was warm on her back and setting her book down she reached for the brown leather satchel beside her, pulled a couple of small, old-fashioned preserve jars from it’s paisley depths and shifted to a kneeling position. A few renegade strands of long copper hair fell across her eyes and tucking them back into place behind her ear she popped the lid off one jar and scanned the flowerbed for the plant she’d come out to find; Deadly Nightshade.</p>

<p>In all respects Deadly Nightshade was the more fatal of the bouquet growing before her. It ran on alkaloids, the natural chemicals that caused (amidst others) hallucinations and bizarre deliriums in those who were unfortunate enough to ingest it.
<br><br>It was her favourite by far, though again if you asked her how she knew so much about it she couldn't tell you. All she knew was that all parts of the plant were poison - from the tips of it’s delicate petals to it’s insidious roots - and when used in minimal doses (as tinctures or decoctions) it was a sedative, a cure all for wounds and an anti-inflammatory.<br><br>
She loved it. </p>

<p>
<b>“Aha.”</b> Her voice was soft and gentle as her eyes found the target and gently reaching for the plant’s stem, careful to avoid handling the leaves too much, she placed the rim of the jar beneath a large cluster of shiny black berries growing near the top of the plant and gently shook them free from where they clung to it like children.</p>

<p><b>“There...”</b> she said, more to the plant then herself as the berries tumbled lightly into the jar. <b>“Perfect!” </b>Reattaching the lid, she held it up against the sunlight and smiled, staring in awe at the hidden purple hues which danced across the berries skins when she looked closer until her awe was interrupted by a sudden shadow falling across her from behind.</p>

</div></div></div></div></div></td><td><div class="phoenix-fire-3"><a href="http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=28"><div class="phoenix-fire-4">

Atropa Belladonna

</div></a><div class="phoenix-fire-5">

Oh Belladonna never knew the pain
Maybe I'm crazy, maybe it'll drive you insane
The open letter just carelessly placed
And you move in silence, the tea so delicately laced
Came from passion, and you gave it a name
The fingers are poisoned like needles in the drivin' rain
So smile discreetly as you watch with such grace...

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Feb 14 2017, 02:55 PM
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<div style="width: 400px; text-align: center; font-family: georgia; font-size: 35px; border-bottom: 5px solid #BD2255; line-height: 100%; text-transform: lowercase;">sally autumn tailor</div><br>

<div style="width: 400px; text-align: center; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 11px;">sally ★ nightmare before christmas ★ simone simons ★ heroine ★ 28</div><p>

<div style="width: 400px; height: 200px; background-image: url(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v299/Dannysgirl/sally%20ap_zpszktcpoyr.png); background-size: cover"><div class="edsapp"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v299/Dannysgirl/Simone%20ap_zpsmlgz8ppm.png" width="400px" height="200px"></div></div><br><br>

<div style="width: 400px; text-align: justify; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px;">

<center><div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: garamond; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; line-height: 120%;">Alice pressed against the wall so she can’t see the door…</div></center><br>

<p>The marble behind you is cold. From your hands the the cuttings tumble as you press yourself against the tombstone hard. You're too afraid to look back, to look at the gate. Your hidden, crouching amidst the shadows you once called your friends, the soil beneath your feet loosened from where you were digging before. The wind no longer speaks to you, it has turned cruel and the litchen feels like it’s trying to crawl up your arms, burrow through your stitches and cover you in it’s mossy spores.</p>



<center><div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: garamond; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; line-height: 120%;">
In case the laughing strangers crawl and crush the petals on the floor...</div></center><br>



<p>The laughter is high and cold. Keening, screaming, howling monsters but not the kind that you know. Not like the monsters and the ghouls you call your friends…
These monsters are empty.
You press harder against the tombstone, willing the soil to swallow you if it can and for a moment you think it will as your boot slips, the white stripes of your socks showered with gravedirt. You slide down a little, the earth crumbling away beneath you and then your ankle tears. You stumble and the petals, the berries from the cuttings you dropped are crushed beneath your porcelain hands. Their scent is strong, acrid and for a moment your woozy. You use the plant in your cooking sometimes, but only sometimes. You know it could poison you and you drag yourself out of the shallow grave the earth has made around you as fast as you can.</p>



<center><div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: garamond; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; line-height: 120%;">Alice in her party dress she thanks you kindly, so serene…</div></center><br>



<p>Your dress is filthy now. It’s made from rags but it’s all you have and pulling yourself into a seating position - another Tombstone sheltering you - you pull your legs in towards your chest, your foot clinging by a thread to your ankle where the stitches have been pulled loose. From your temple you pull a needle and from the pocket of your dress a spool of thread and a handful of gravedirt. Across the Graveyard the gates are creaking, their hinges corroded and rusted with time. You know they won't hold long and stuffing your leaves back inside your calf; you thread the needle with remarkably steady hands. You're a seamstress, the best in town and this isn’t the first time you’ve stitched yourself back together tonight. In moments your foot is re-attached and you wind your thread back around it’s spool, slipping the needle back into your temple. You have to move now, you know you can’t stay here anymore but you're scared. In the place you once called your sanctuary your frightened. It’s not your safe place now. You can't watch the woods for him any more.</p>



<center><div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: garamond; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; line-height: 120%;">She needs you like she needs her tranqs to tell her that the world is clean...</div></center><br>


<p>Unsteadily you get to your feet. It takes a moment for your ankle to feel normal again now you're standing on it, the leaves displaced from where they were before you slipped but soon you can move again and you head for the only place you can; Spiral Hill and the Hinterlands beyond it’s reach. The world feels dark, Halloween Town is no longer clean. In your mind's eye it’s become polluted, clouded by darkness and you can’t shake the terrible feeling you have about <I>him</I>. You can’t stand your feelings because you know they’re always right. You wish you could dull them for a moment. Had you not dropped the berries before you could have and as the ground steepens beneath your boots you know you're almost there.</p>


<center><div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: garamond; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; line-height: 120%;">To promise her a definition, tell her where the rain will fall…
</div></center><br>


<p>The pinnacle of the hill spreads out before you but the moon isn’t shining anymore. The path ahead is growing darker and finally you hear the Gates give way but you won’t look back, you can’t look back. Your feeling grows stronger, pulling at you now - burning inside - and you know without any doubt that he isn’t coming back. You don’t know where to go. You wish that someone could tell you where and then...something does; a single small light in the woods ahead! It seems to float, it’s light growing brighter as the sky grows darker. Zero. It has to be Zero. You hope beyond hope that it is and momentarily that hope dims the dread. It’s the tranquilizer you needed, it clears your mind and you start to run. You’re not fast, you never were. You're a little unstable on your legs but that’s always been the case. For you it’s normal and with every step, the hill unfurls until it finally guides you to safety over the Graveyard wall beyond.</p>



<center><div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: garamond; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; line-height: 120%;">Tell her where the sun shines bright and tell her she can have it all today…</div></center><br>



<p>The light is glowing bright now and moving away from you. You panic. What if it disappears? What if your making a mistake? but your feelings -your intuition- pushes you forwards. The dread has passed and you try not to think about why as you stumble along the path. Around you the trees start to thicken, sparse at first but growing denser as you run. The light floats ahead of you and finally you're in the trees, following the twisting path to wherever the light takes you. The howls are lost now, the shrieks, the laughter silenced by walls of heavy bark and twisted branches and behind you, you know the path has closed.</p>



<center><div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: garamond; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; line-height: 120%;">
Pass the crystal spread the Tarot, in illusion comfort lies…</div></center><br>



<p>The world is acting strange. The trees feel alive (you try not to smile at the irony) and the farther in you go, the less like Halloween Town it starts to feel, you sense it in the wind. The trees are draughty but it’s not cold and reaching out, you try to touch the trunks. You want to read them, find out what lies ahead but they seem to ripple around you and you shrink back from them. You wrap your arms around your body, your head turning this way and that searching for a sign as you go cautiously now; your steps slower, smaller, more deliberate.</p>



<center><div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: garamond; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; line-height: 120%;">The safest way the straight and narrow, no confusion no surprise..</div></center><br>


<p>The path doesn't seem to change. On and on it goes stretching out into the far shadows ahead. Your nerves start to dig at you. You want to wander off the path, find another way through but you daren't. The light still floats ahead but it’s dimming now and you begin to panic again. No matter what you can’t loose the light. You begin to run again. The safest way, the straight and narrow is all you can think. On and on it goes. Closer and closer the trees appear. Stranger and stranger your body starts to feel until you can’t run anymore and you stagger to a halt. You look up and finally you’ve hit a clearing but the moment you step out from the trees the light you’ve been chasing flares to such an unbearable brightness that you shut your eyes against it. You stagger, blinded and collapse. Your body explodes into pain. You don't know why you know it’s called ‘pain’ but somehow you do and then you black out.</p>


<center><div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: garamond; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; line-height: 120%;">Alice in her party dressed, to kill she thanks you turns away…</div></center><br>


<p>You wake up screaming, your body covered in open wounds at every joint. You're lying in blood, your own blood you soon realise and around you people are gathered shouting, screaming garbled words you can’t make out. Above you the sky is dark, storm clouds threatening rain and beneath you the stone is slippery...slippery with your blood. Your long red hair is matted and knotted around your shoulders, the scrap of a dress you're wearing dark with plasma. Where your face isn't stained your skin is pale, growing cold with every moment you lie bleeding out on the bridge. You suddenly think of leaves. If only you were stuffed with leaves you’d be okay and somehow you laugh at the ridiculousness of it...then you black out again.</p>


<center><div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: garamond; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; line-height: 120%;">Needs you like she needs needs her pills, to tell her that the world's okay…</div></center><br>


<p>This time when you wake up your warm. You ache but the pain is numbed. You try to move, and when you focus, you stare down your arms at the stitches. Stitches at every joint and you know the rest of your body is the same. Your skin is still pale but it’s warm again now. The needles and tubes buried in it don’t bother you. Your hair is brushed beautifully, the lustre and shine far too bright for a patient recovering from a trauma like yours but yours the hair is and that's when you realise that someone has been taking care of you. In minutes the room is flooded with people, doctors you realise. You don’t know why you know that, only that the sight of white lab coats and long surgical gloves is comforting.</p>



<center><div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: garamond; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; line-height: 120%;">
To promise her a definition, tell her where the rain will fall…</div></center><br>


<p>Amazing, remarkable they keep saying. Your healing fast, faster than they anticipated but it’s going to leave you with horrible scars. The extent of your injuries was huge, by all intents and purposes you should be dead from them but somehow you're alive. The ‘Rag Dahlia’ they were calling you. No one knows your name and you had no identification on you when you were found but a trigger goes of in your mind.
“Sally” You say. Your throat sore and dry. Your name is Sally.</p>



<center><div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: garamond; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; line-height: 120%;">Tell her where the sun shines bright and tell her she can have it all today…</div></center><br>



<p>Weeks later you’ve recovered but you are uneasy. You memory is a mess, your body as horribly scarred as they said it would be. They think you were a murder gone wrong. The mutilation of your body deliberately done but none of them know why. You don’t know either. You're scared to leave the hospital but someone has offered you refuge. One of the people who took care of you, though now you think about them, you’ve never seen them outside of your room. A business card clasped in your delicate hands reads Haven Hill: refuge for worldly wanderers. They specialised in cases like yours. Acute memory loss, no known family, possible witness to a crime. Haven Hill can help you and as you timidly chew at your lip, your hands fiddle restlessly with the business card like it's a lifeline you can’t afford to lose.</p>



<center><div style="width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: garamond; font-weight: bold; font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps; border-bottom: 3px solid #000000; line-height: 120%;">Alice! Don't give it away.
</div></center><br>


<center><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Arr1izZOUeU" target="blank">Alice <br> - by The Sisters of Mercy</a></center> <br><br>

</div><p>

<div style="width: 400px; text-align: center; font-family: georgia; font-size: 20px;">character basics</div><p>

<div style="width: 380px; height: 180px; padding: 10px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px;">

NAME:<br>
Sally is her original name and I just really like it, plus I wanted her to remember one thing from her animated life and names are important!
Autumn is very pretty as a girl’s name and it reflects both the Halloween season and that Sally, in my opinion embodies the spirit of the fall in her colouring, the breezy, willowy and sometimes unpredictable way she moves (like the autumn wind - I am the ‘who’ when you call; “Who's there?!” I am the wind blowing through your hair…) and that she's stuffed with fallen leaves.
Tailor spelled t-ail-or as opposed to t-ayl-or is a common surname and back in the Middle Ages your last name was often your profession. Sally is a seamstress so tailor, spelt the same as the profession Tailor seemed like a good fit.

<p>PLAYBY:<br>
Simone Simon is the lead singer of Epica, a Dutch symphonic metal band AND SHE IS BEAUTIFUL. She has everything I was looking for in a PB for Sally. Pale delicate skin, wide eyes and beautiful long red hair. She’s thin and willowy in stature just like Sally and she dresses awesome. Gothic Chic I like to call it, after all how else would you expect a denizen of Halloween to look?<p>

BIRTHDAY:<br> November 25th

<p>OCCUPATION:<br>
Online Boutique owner and a hobby Herbalist on the side.<br><Br>

Sally makes most of her own clothes out of scrap fabrics which she recycles from old clothes, thrift stores and material scraps that she picks up from factories, shops and warehouses all over the City. She then hand dyes and stitches/embroiders them to create one of a kind patchwork pieces much like her animated patchwork dress. As time goes on she will eventually purchase the lease to an old store in town somewhere but right now she only makes a few pieces at a time which she sells online from her shared house (Sally has the attic room) and she’s open to commissions.<br><br>

She’s also particularly gifted with herbs as we see in the film. Aside from the one case where Dr Finklestein sews her arm back on, she mostly self-medicates by stitching herself back together which I really wanted to bring onsite. Sally loves natural remedies, especially now that she can feel pain (her scars will never quite fully heal) so in her backyard she has a small herb garden where she grows more common, generic herbs...for the more illicit ones however, she takes to the cemetery and the wild areas where she’s found a couple of little ‘poison patches’. <br><br>

Though she has the knowledge to concoct poisons as well as remedies she rarely does it and most of the more deadly herbs she only uses in very small doses for painkillers and things like that (though if you looked at the Kilner jars she keeps in her kitchen, you might have some questions about the labels...) however, if you did want something a little more deadly she can do it IF she thinks it’s right or...if you just need to knock someone out for a while. If you're that far gone as a person though and are seriously considering poison she will question you relentlessly and even then, there's no guarantee that she’ll do it. When it comes to her more poisonous talents she's particularly wary.<br><br>

Now and then she’ll sell some of her home remedies along with her clothes but generally, you'll have to ask her for those directly. Eventually she’ll dedicate a wall in her shop to these as well as home blended perfume oils but for now it’s ask first and only then shall you receive.

<p>POWERS & ABILITIES:<br>


<b>Tactile Hypersensitivity - </b>Sally is particularly sensitive to touch. Since she couldn't feel pain in her ragdoll form, now she’s human she has all the nerve endings and pain receptors that make up the human body. Though normal for me and you, to Sally who's never felt pain before the sensation of touch is intense and alien, especially if you get her around her scars so she’s liable to jump a mile at the briefest brush.<br><br>

<b>Extrasensory Perception -</b> Now this I love about her. In her Cannon Sally shows signs of being highly intuitive and displays both precognitive abilities and signs of psychometry. I really wanted her to have those here in SF albeit a more downplayed version of them so; of the three, her intuition is the strongest and she rarely goes a day without sensing something or other. This particularly comes into play when she's around others from the portal. A lot of the time her intuition is why she can tell what you want from her before you ask for it and it plays a role in her abilities to sense when something is due to happen to you. Putting her on edge without knowing why.<br><br>

On the other side of that, her precognitive abilities are a little more subtle on this side of the portal. Her visions are very few and far between now but tend to occur more when - like with her intuition - she’s around others from the portal. This goes hand in hand with her Psychometric abilities as it’s touching a person or an object that triggers the visions. Through objects she can mainly see glimpses of the past and through people the future but there are exceptions to both depending on what the object is and what the person has done/is planning to do.

<p>PERSONALITY:<br> Sally is one of those characters who on first glance will strike you as timid and weak. She’s kind hearted, compassionate, sensible and selfless, always thinking of others before herself which often makes her an easy target for the more conniving and self preserving members of society. If you look a little deeper at her though you’ll soon see that in actual fact she isn't weak at all. Timid, yes she can be timid but weak no. She’s incredibly clever, head-strong when she wants to be (though she will try to compromise with you first before going her own way) and she’s particularly gifted at escaping any cage you try to lock her up in.<br><br>

Sally hasn’t got a bad bone in her body. She’s the type that will try to talk you down from the ledge if she thinks (or in Sally's case <I>knows</I>) you're making the wrong decision and will do all she can to stop you even if she fails. She is quiet but she’s quiet in the way that she prefers to watch what happens before she gets involved in things and she won't probe you for information because she already has a few issues of her own to keep quiet about (aka the circumstances surrounding her arrival through the portal). I wanted to keep pretty much all of her canonical personality intact because that's exactly why I love her (with a few added extras of course!) and some of her traits will start to develop a little more as she becomes active on site. For example towards the end of the film she does get a little ballsy, taking matters into her own hands (and leg!) with oogie boogie which I love, but that particular trait will come on with time I think since the canon cut off takes place before she gets around to doing that in the film, it should also be noted that right now Sally is dealing with Generalized Anxiety Disorder due to a couple of things including:<br><br>

The mess her memories are in.<br><br>

The circumstances surrounding her arrival through the portal. It’s suspected she was an attempted murder gone wrong because she wasn't found by Haven Hill first, she was found by a couple of regular every day SF citizens and taken to a city Hospital. The police got involved due to the bizarre nature of her injuries and right now, the only way they can explain the mutilations is to call it an attempted homicide.<br><br>

And finally that she has no known family, no one knows where she came from, Sall can’t tell them anything about her past it the ‘attack’ and she had no identification on her when she was found.At the moment she’s a real jane doe for the SF locals!

<p>BACKGROUND:<br>
Sally's background follows her canon up until the cut off where she watches Jack singing his lament before disappearing into the forest. From there I’ve changed things up a little to fit with the cut off points of Lock (Damien), Shock (Sloan), Barrel (Cosmo). After Jack disappeared into the trees, Sally stayed in the Graveyard for a while on the pretence of sewing her arm back on and collecting some of her usual herbs. In reality though she was subconsciously watching for Jack's return. After overhearing his inner thoughts during his lament, she planned to talk to him a little when he came back before heading home to the Finkelstein lab but she never made it. From that point onwards is where the main body of this application fits in. <br><br>

After - once she was discharged from the hospital - she headed for Haven Hill as advised by someone who was looking after her, someone <ii>from</> Haven Hill. They seemed to be expecting her when she arrived and she was given a place to live and a new identity but unfortunately due to the outside interference of the SFPD and the involvement of a major city Hospital, their ability to help her has been severely hindered and she probably knows a lot less than many of her animated friends (the exact details of which I would like to plot out :D) Right now though, she’s not even aware that the portal exists.<br><br>

In terms of time she’s been across the portal for around the same amount of time as Lock, Shock and Barrel. She has no memories like most of the people around her and in the eyes of the SF locals she’s at the heart of an unsolved murder case ( though in reality that's not the case at all but the truth is a little too magical for the everyday SF Joes!). She lives in a shared house with four others and runs an online clothing store from her room.

<p>CANON CUTOFF:<br>
After Jack leaves Halloween Town for the forest.

</div><br><br>

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<div style="width: 400px; text-align: center; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 11px;"><a href="http://endlessdiamondsky.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=5416" target="blank">5 posts</a> ★ <a href="http://endlessdiamondsky.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=6071" target="blank">plotter</a></div>

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