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[b]Name:[/b] Alexandra “Alex” Denali. She/her.

[b]Age:[/b] 22

[b]Personality:[/b] Alex is very physical, but not violent. She likes tactile things: the press of a kiss, the taste of coffee, the feel of silk on her skin. Given the choice, she would go everywhere barefoot. When it comes to classes or performances, she’s good at rolling with the punches, but when it comes to dealing with people, she’s on the sensitive side—she’s not shy by any means, but her feelings are more easily hurt than she’d like to admit, and it’s hard for her to let go of something once it’s said or done, though she tries to hide it. She doesn’t look for conflict, but she’s independent enough to have come out of a family of doctors with a liberal arts degree.

[b]Interests:[/b] Dance (enough to major in it), running, martial arts—anything that allows her to feel present and grounded in her body. She appreciates beauty and artistry and likes to surround herself with rich, vivid colors. She likes poetry—people like Neruda and Rilke for depth, and more modern poets like Billy Collins for sheer cleverness. She also became active in volunteer work for a while in college; it started as a requirement and became a hobby.

[b]History:[/b] Alex is fairly lucky. Her home life wasn’t bad, and she doesn’t have a bad relationship with her parents, despite their occasional distress at what they consider to be a long line of questionable decisions. Her family has always lived well, having settled comfortably into the American Dream—right down to Daddy being a doctor and [i]Ammi[/i] a successful child psychologist. She and her younger brother, Ravi, are close, though they see each other less since Alex moved into her own apartment. Alex just graduated this year and has spent the last few months attending auditions.

[b]Appearance:[/b] Alex was born willowy, but a dancer’s dedication has made her five-foot-six frame a little more solid. She’s a third-generation American from a melting-pot of a family, but her Indo-African roots show in her loose brown curls and skin that looks half a shade too dark for the freckles smattered across her nose. She has a cluster of flowers tattooed on her right shoulder, a product both of her love of pretty things and her curiosity about the sting of a tattooist’s needle (it was a thrill, but not one she’s likely to repeat).

She likes flowy garments—loose tunics; lacy dresses; skirts that swish—but compromises when necessary. A few layered tank tops, a cluster of necklaces, and a myriad collection of jackets and cardigans make up the more practical parts of her wardrobe. She was dressed casually on the day she died in a black cotton dress scattered with sunflowers.


[b]Notes:[/b] Alex is friendly and easy to get along with, so she’s always had lots of acquaintances, but she only has one best friend: Jericho, a quiet, reserved boy that she keeps in constant touch with—if Alex and Jericho are not together, they’re probably texting, except when Jericho’s introverted nature gets the better of him and he has to go into hermit mode. Alex’s parents despair of her ever settling down with a nice boy to start a family; when she’s feeling particularly pressured, she tells them airily that Jericho is her one and only.
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