Ramona Thumberly (Move your mouse to reveal the content) Ramona Thumberly (open) Ramona Thumberly (close) Ramona Thumberly Ramona Thumberly • 18 Years old • Female • Photography Student Ramona stands between 5"8 and 5"9, with short dark hair that curls inwards towards her slender neck and tends to bob when she walks. Her almond shaped eyes are an even darker colour, with a depth to them that swallows up her thoughts. She tends to stick to muted or dark tones of clothing, and leans towards the comfy and practical, often wearing simple clothes like plain dresses, long tops, cropped shorts or simple skirts. Her usual dead-pan expression leaves little to the imagination; it is hard to place what she wonders about. She's quick to roll with the punches and despite appearances, has a rich imagination that seems to fill the spaces between the boredom and the mundane; not to mention a sharp wit. It often catches people by surprise - she has such a serious expression most of the time, it seems so out of place for her to be the rambunctious sort. Ramona loves adventure and is a bit of a thrill-seeker. She's had to dull it down as her parents don't look kindly on it, but when she gets a quiet moment, you can bet she'll cook up something fun to do. This strange juxtaposition of her personality has left her without much company; few really seem to know what she's about. This has led her to devouring books by the dozen, her addiction to literature not helped by the fact her father runs a little bookstore that has been in the family some generations. It isn't really a surprise she's an odd fit for her family, too. Her mother - a highly competitive woman who wanted the best for her daughter - doesn't seem to understand Ramona's dreamy though reckless nature. She is a well-organised woman with a tendency to overthink and worry a lot. Ramona always felt pressured to live up to expectations, but never quite managed to. Still, her father - a gentle and humorous man - certainly balances out the household tension. Not to mention Torrance, who joined the family four years ago. Ramona wasn't sure how she felt about having a younger sibling, but she has to admit he's grown on her. A light-hearted child as children often are, Torrance seems to have taken a shine to his sister. The two make good partners in crime. Ramona is already filling his head with reckless wanton ideas, like - why bother brushing your teeth? Or, wanna climb this tree with me? Ramona has a passion for photography. She can often be seen with a large, old camera around her neck, snapping shots that take her fancy. She prefers older form of photography to newer, digital varieties, but she'll take what she can get. A flash of dark teal and Ramona Thumberly whizzed around the corner, clutching her hat as her bicycle navigated the cobbles. The hill was steep with a wonderful view across the ocean, and down below, she could see the painted houses in all different colours along the port front. Seagulls cried gracelessly and the sounds of polite conversation drifted on the cold sea air. This quaint seaport was a strange flavour; a mix of sleepy elderly come to live a quiet life and burley fishermen who spent their time out at sea. Come Market day the town square was filled with the calls of traders trying to out-shout each other. It was lively days like that that made Ramona appreciated her home town. The rest of the time it was a drag. She grinned widely and lifted her feet off the pedals as she stared out across the sea. It was a clear summer day, and the sky and water bled into each other like a watercolour painting. Hitting the bottom of the hill, she screeched around the corner and slowed to a leisurely pace. Ramona hopped off her bike and pushed it down the backstreet. The buildings here were tall and the streets were narrow, casting cold dark shadows across the ground. Signs reached high above head, telling tales of little local businesses that lived here, hidden away in the dark. Her favourite jewellery store was nestled between two buildings among these roads somewhere, and many other places like it. It was remarkable they ever got business, but the locals knew all the nooks and crannies of this town, and tourists liked to get lost and stumble upon these hidden treasures. So did Ramona. It was some time before Ramona stepped out into the sunshine. The backstreets fell away to reveal a lovely cul-de-sac, with large gardens and trees that rustled in the breeze. She often liked to climb into those ancient branches - when she thought no one was looking - and take pictures from there, up high in the sky. Quietly, Ramona pushed her bike passed the backs of houses, gently opening the garden door. "Your mother is going to kill you." said a lithe gentleman with auburn hair and black rectangular glasses. He wore a simple tan sweater, the collar of a white shirt peaking up around his neck neatly, and black dress trousers and shoes. It seemed an odd ensemble to wear at the best of times, let alone in summer, let alone when carrying a squirming four year old. "Rammy!" cried the little boy as he freed himself from his father's grasp and ran over to greet his older sibling. He beamed up at her, chocolate smeared all around his mouth. "Hey, Torty." she kneeled down to give Torrance a big hug, sweeping him up in her arms to swing him around haphazardly. "Does she know?" Ramona asked, closing the door with her foot as Torrance reached up to tug at her hat. "Oh she knows." replied her father, quirking an eyebrow as if to say - are you serious? Ramona groaned, unhooking her bag from her bike and pulling it over one shoulder, trying to get it comfy. Torty had successfully claimed ownership of her hat and was now attempting to put it on. "Ramona Thumberly!” came a stern voice from the kitchen. "Have you been careering down that death trap again? You promised you wouldn't! Do you want to break your neck?" Ramona sighed, exchanging glances with Torty as her hat slipped down past his eyes. "Time to face the music. You'll be my human shield, right?" she asked, flicking up the rim of the hat and kissing him on the forehead.