FAVIER, debra

DEBRA 'DEBBY' CLEMENCE FAVIER

female : thirty-three : primary school teacher : uninfected united rights league activist

i live my life like there's no tomorrow
AND ALL I'VE GOT, I HAD TO STEAL

"I'm Debra Favier," says Debra, a huge grin upon her face. The grin looks like it's something that's always there, like she'd look wrong without it, "But Debby works too. Or just Deb. Or whatever you want to call me, I suppose," she shrugs good-naturedly, "Growing up in a big family gets you used to being called names pretty fast. You see, I'm the fifth born of nine kids, and the second of the three girls," the blonde holds up fingers every time she says a number, which seems like something of a habit for her, judging from the smoothness of the actions, "I'm the one who's always bringing girlfriends home for the family to meet. Every big family has one. A sibling who brings home their dates, I mean. Not a lesbian member. Though I guess there's plenty of those in big families, too…" Debra pauses, thinking about it for a moment before letting it go, "Anyway, they're like the perfect screen tests or something. If one family member doesn't like them," she pauses again, dramatically, her grin growing larger, "-Poof!-" the woman makes another hand gesture, like something exploding, "They're out of my life. Or, you know, if they don't like any of my crazy family members, well, that really wont do either." She shakes her head in mock-disappointment, then thinks about something, and shakes her head some more, "You know, sometimes the family likes to joke about how I bring them home, saying I do it specifically just to get rid of them. Like I can't handle commitment or something. I mean, seriously, I'm plenty committed… Anyway."

"So, I grew up in a big house, right? I loved it. I loved 'babysitting' my little brothers and sisters all the time growing up, too." Deb grins, remembering something fondly, "Mom took all these pictures of me when I was little, holding the younger kids, pushing their strollers and stuff. I always loved kids I guess." She was still smiling. Like I said, the smile, it belonged there, "And doting on people," she added. "I'd always wanted to be a teacher growing up, so I could be with kids all day long," Looking excited, more than before, she pulled out her wallet, where she kept a picture of her class. "These are mine," she points at them proudly. She was obviously very fond. "The kids like to pick fun at my weirdly-Australian accent, though I possibly have the least noticeable one out of out entire family." She pauses. "Well, aside from dad, who's all French, but… I don't really want to talk about him. He's out of my life now, since he went around on that perverse loups-garoux-centric serial murdering spree several years back." She practically snorted. It was the first time the smile had gone from her face.

"Though, yeah, I remember him pretty well… I remember the day we found out, too. Sunday. Cookout day." She sighed a little, "I was on Atkins or something dumb at the time and wouldn't eat mom's bread, which made her kind of mad at me, so I was kind of avoiding her and just sitting at the table reading a magazine article about eyebrow waxing or something, talking to my then-girlfriend at the time--" Struck by a thought, she lowered her voice, talking to herself, "Hey I wonder what she's doing now, she had some great knockers…" Then she realized she was still talking to someone else and shifted uncomfortably in her seat for a moment, diffusing the situation with another smile, though this one looked slightly forced, and she dropped it soon after due to what she was talking about, "Uhm anyway, I was sitting there trying to mind my own business. Though Shaz was being annoying and picking at the table like she does sometimes, so I yelled at her and told her to stop. She's always picking… Anyway, it was about then mom got the call, and, well, she passed out and I just stood there like a dumbass and watched as the boys pulled her to the couch and everyone else ran around like chickens with their heads cut off for a while… Then we all huddled into the cars to go deal with it, squished together like a family of fish in a sardine can."

For a minute, she looked a little lost on what to say. Like she still didn't know what to make of anything that had happened, and didn't understand why she just stood there, "I didn't say a word the whole time. Through any of it." She bit her lip reflexively, "Everyone else was yelling, or passing out, or trying to console each other," Again, another look of disappointment, "Which is what I should have been doing too. Instead, I just went blank. I've never done that before. I'm usually the first to try hugging everyone better. But I don't think I could believe he did it for the longest time. I didn't let it sink in. Sometimes I wonder if maybe I just couldn't let myself think about it because it would hurt too much at the time. It hurts, now, still." A long, pregnant pause again. Thinking. "If I'd just let it hit me, I'd've had a mental breakdown or something… I've always been too sensitive. January would never tell me anything about her visit to jail when she saw him…"

She stopped abruptly, seeming to realize she was being a, well, a Debby Downer. And just like that, the smile was back, "Hey, wait a minute now, didn't I say I didn't want to talk about this? I believe I did. Moving on to happier things!"

"Once I got over disbelief, I threw myself into the United Rights League. We're all in it, all the Favier brats," Obviously, it was a term of endearment, "We even run our own website on the side. We're awesome like that. Three of us-- not me, but Baz, Shaz and Simmy- are werewolves, too. When that happened it kind of took us all by surprise, when Baz got bit, then bit Shaz right after that… And then Simmy got bit by a wolf with rabies. But, you know, we dealt with it like a real family does. Pulled together for each other. Or I thought we all did…" She didn't frown this time, but just moved ahead, "But yeah, we do a lot of good, to make up for the one bad seed in the family, I guess?"

LEAST I DON'T NEED TO BEG OR BORROW
yeah, i'm livin' at a pace that kills

piper perabo : mal : female : twenty-one : guess!

PLEASE SIGN UP IN THE: FACE CLAIM, COMMUNICATIONS, CHARACTER DIRECTORY & WHO'S WHO.

LESBOS ISLAND