Personality: Shirley has been met with one trauma after another since birth, and life isn't ready to give her a break. Treated like a tool of a savior or a means of acquiring instant power, she's seldom seen for what she is: a human girl. Burdened with the hopes of her people, she has been ostracized by their high expectations yet overshadowed by her sister's charisma. Everyone has good things to say about Stella at any time—Shirley's one viral moment is of failure in childhood that crashed a great many Ferines' hopes, followed by her recent weakness to save Stella. She's a child whose mistakes have hurt many and killed more than a few in the process, and the realization of this fosters a very low self-esteem.
All in all, she's been alone for a long time. Everybody in the village treated her differently, and Senel was a fraternal figure enamored with Stella. She says so herself: she's never had a friend before. Fenimore would be her first, and she would cry with joy and heartbreak that night after Senel has rejected her. Before then, she's alone in a village of Ferines who revere her, and the strain on her relationship with Senel is further cause for depression.
Shirley is stubborn as a mule. The good part is she can work up the courage to do what she deems right; the bad part is this applies for unsavory self-deprecation. Shirley believes she's little more than an over-glorified burden and that she can only continue to do her part in Stella's shadow. She has resolve, but that resolve lacks confidence—in fact, it is trauma that enables Shirley to hear Nerifes' voice, not by her own ability as she had in her childhood.
She had good reason to reject Nerifes then, though. That reason is kindness. She is an optimist who prays for the Orerines and Ferines to find peace, for she has seen the good in the former and would offer her life time and again to help everyone regardless of race. As a result, she's also naive. Her lack of friends robbed her the experience of what it means to watch them killed before her, and Senel had been keeping her safe while others were beaten brutally. But Shirley still maintains that there are good Orerines when she's caught and imprisoned, partly because she loves Senel.
Shirley's love is a strong thing. At the end of the day, she would fight for those she cherishes. Despite her initial timidity, she is quick to fall to the defensive when Fenimore accuses Senel of being a vile Orerines: "My brother isn't like that! Don't talk about him that way!" As far as Senel is concerned, she even becomes jealous when other girls beg for his attention. In general, Shirley is shy but very emotional, and very loving. Even in the face of her abrupt rejection, she would attempt to cushion the awkwardness for Senel by bringing up just how obvious it was that Stella had liked him back.
Fact of the matter is, Shirley has been running from her duty and living in ignorant bliss for most of her formative years. She's only stopped running recently, but gone to attend to her duties in perhaps the worst scenario possible. Stella's benevolent sacrifice is a constant source of pressure, and the Ferines must cope with the idea that living with them is a failed Merines. Powerless she may be, it is necessary that she do her best to restore their broken hope. She just has no idea how she can do that beyond nice words and hard work, and the constant onset of weakness unsettles her.
Shirley has practically convinced herself that she's weak and that nobody cares about her because of it. When she believes she can't do something, that's the end of that. It takes a great deal of outside encouragement to convince her that she can be more than what little she makes herself out to be, so she can be a bit whiny, though it's more insecurity than anything. Much of her world view is considerably contained, and that she compares herself to others so often suggests self-absorption in an entirely bad way.
Then this happened:
Shirley? Your power exists to make people happy . . . Please . . . use it wisely . . .
And perhaps misunderstanding her sister's intention, Shirley slaves over trying to do exactly that. She does have a strong sense of obligation, now more than ever with all that's piled up for the Ferines. However, this is all at the cost of her own happiness, which is where the fatal flaw of her selflessness lies. In a way, it's a little selfish because she's using her duty to play escapism.
In the end, Shirley is still what she is: a human girl. She's shy without her sister, scared without her brother, and all she wants is for everyone to be happy. To live like family and friends. But right now, she has envy issues that could capsize a giant ship.
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All in all, she's been alone for a long time. Everybody in the village treated her differently, and Senel was a fraternal figure enamored with Stella. She says so herself: she's never had a friend before. Fenimore would be her first, and she would cry with joy and heartbreak that night after Senel has rejected her. Before then, she's alone in a village of Ferines who revere her, and the strain on her relationship with Senel is further cause for depression.
Shirley is stubborn as a mule. The good part is she can work up the courage to do what she deems right; the bad part is this applies for unsavory self-deprecation. Shirley believes she's little more than an over-glorified burden and that she can only continue to do her part in Stella's shadow. She has resolve, but that resolve lacks confidence—in fact, it is trauma that enables Shirley to hear Nerifes' voice, not by her own ability as she had in her childhood.
She had good reason to reject Nerifes then, though. That reason is kindness. She is an optimist who prays for the Orerines and Ferines to find peace, for she has seen the good in the former and would offer her life time and again to help everyone regardless of race. As a result, she's also naive. Her lack of friends robbed her the experience of what it means to watch them killed before her, and Senel had been keeping her safe while others were beaten brutally. But Shirley still maintains that there are good Orerines when she's caught and imprisoned, partly because she loves Senel.
Shirley's love is a strong thing. At the end of the day, she would fight for those she cherishes. Despite her initial timidity, she is quick to fall to the defensive when Fenimore accuses Senel of being a vile Orerines: "My brother isn't like that! Don't talk about him that way!" As far as Senel is concerned, she even becomes jealous when other girls beg for his attention. In general, Shirley is shy but very emotional, and very loving. Even in the face of her abrupt rejection, she would attempt to cushion the awkwardness for Senel by bringing up just how obvious it was that Stella had liked him back.
Fact of the matter is, Shirley has been running from her duty and living in ignorant bliss for most of her formative years. She's only stopped running recently, but gone to attend to her duties in perhaps the worst scenario possible. Stella's benevolent sacrifice is a constant source of pressure, and the Ferines must cope with the idea that living with them is a failed Merines. Powerless she may be, it is necessary that she do her best to restore their broken hope. She just has no idea how she can do that beyond nice words and hard work, and the constant onset of weakness unsettles her.
Shirley has practically convinced herself that she's weak and that nobody cares about her because of it. When she believes she can't do something, that's the end of that. It takes a great deal of outside encouragement to convince her that she can be more than what little she makes herself out to be, so she can be a bit whiny, though it's more insecurity than anything. Much of her world view is considerably contained, and that she compares herself to others so often suggests self-absorption in an entirely bad way.
Then this happened:And perhaps misunderstanding her sister's intention, Shirley slaves over trying to do exactly that. She does have a strong sense of obligation, now more than ever with all that's piled up for the Ferines. However, this is all at the cost of her own happiness, which is where the fatal flaw of her selflessness lies. In a way, it's a little selfish because she's using her duty to play escapism.
In the end, Shirley is still what she is: a human girl. She's shy without her sister, scared without her brother, and all she wants is for everyone to be happy. To live like family and friends. But right now, she has envy issues that could capsize a giant ship.