Post by tori on Sept 2, 2009 13:45:07 GMT -5
age and birthday ,[/color] twenty, september fifth
height ,[/color] five feet
body type ,[/color] very petite
sexuality ,[/color] straight
relationship status ,[/color] single
play - by ,[/color] cheryl cole
group ,[/color] university student[/ul]
dislikes ,[/color] bland people, no ambience, star trek, most fruit, chocolate, leather couches, being woken up, breakfast, creepy boys, hyperbolic speeches, gerberas
fears ,[/color] aside from chimpanzees and copper, i’m afraid that i won’t be able to love anybody properly again, that i will just compare them to my first love.
habits ,[/color] i chew my lower lip a lot just all the time. also i check my nails all the time to make sure they are the same length, and i check the time on my phone about every thirty seconds. it annoys me too.
flaws ,[/color] i have about a million flaws. i can be quite cryptic, i offend people by accident, i stop listening when i’m being talked to, i have the worst memory ever, i’m stubborn as hell. i can’t list everything.
personality ,[/color] quiet, observant, aloof, closed, stubborn, well read, articulate, well mannered, untrusting, protective, defensive, impulsive, witty, sarcastic, demure, antagonistic, impossible, loveable, easily pleased.[/ul]
edward noah alexandria “my father is away for eight months of the year clinching franchise deals and such. he is fantastic at whatever it is he does, but since i don’t live at home anymore, i see him even less. not that i mind, we never really bonded anyway. he has a bit of a hot temper.”
siblings ,[/color] “i don’t have any. i wouldn’t wish my parents on anyone else.”
other family ,[/color] none of importance
history ,[/color] i was born twenty years ago in cheshire, england. my mother iyra is argentinean and my father is english, so i’m half and half. my father edward has worked in his current job since i was about six, before that he was home more, but still not a lot. i’ve had that typical upper-class upbringing. emotionally absent father, an infidel for a mother and an educational history of the best boarding and prep schools in southern england. since i was young, probably since before i was born, my mother has brought various men home to fuck whilst darling daddy was on business. i was left to my own devices, or occupied with the latest releases from mattel while she romped in the guest suite. the despicable whore was kind enough not to be unfaithful on the bed she shared with her estranged husband. i’m fairly sure my parents’ marriage was a partnership based on looks at first, and then money and ease once the realization that they shared no profound connection kicked in. my father was quite the dream guy when he was home. an excellent conversationalist, eloquent, handsome, witty and charming with a wonderful career. i can recall my mothers friends swooning over him at get togethers and pawing him whilst their own husbands went to fetch drinks. i assume it was a popular trend in their circle to be as unfaithful as possible. however, although my father seemed like an english george clooney, he did have a hot temper on him occasionally. he caught my mother cheating a few times, and the young man nearly always fled from the house with a number of injuries inflicted by his gym-honed self. i’m not sure why he stayed with my mother, he probably couldn’t be bothered to divorce her, and i assume a few of the impressionable young women in other countries had probablied sampled the best england had to offer, anyway.
i was aware from an early age that my parents life and relationship was not something i wanted for myself, and although i inherited a few traits from my parents, i am like neither of them. i’ve always considered myself a bit of a black sheep, i had friends when i was a teenager, mostly girls who’s parents were friends of my own, but they all followed the examples set by their mother. needless to say, i wasn’t a key member of my group, and although i got along well with them as casual friends, i didn’t fit in. when i finished college, it dawned on me that i was now, essentially, responsible for myself, and that i could have a change if i wanted to. i applied for a tone of universities, and i was accepted into a lot of them aswell. that’s another difference between me and my mother – i’m smart. i had about decided on ucl, i got a letter from a university in hawaii, hilo to be precise. i had almost forgotten that i had applied there, and after a few days, i decided to move out to hawaii to attend. it seemed a lot more appealing than the prospect of having to share a country with my mother, and who doesn’t love hawaii?
[/ul]
age ,[/color] sixteen
years of experience ,[/color] quite a lot now
gender ,[/color] female
anything else ,[/color] no!
role playing sample ,[/color]
The relatively quiet engine of her vw ceased to make any further noise as she turned the key in the ignition and pulled, the gentle melody drifting from the stereo drawing to an untimely halt, along with the car. Emmaline had pulled off the road, parking her car just before the first trees sprang forth from the earth, damp flowers and foliage bowing gently where the bumper of the car touched them. The little bug wasn't the flashiest car in the world, it was in good condition, running wise, and she had deemed the little vehicle 'sweet' - and affordable. Although she was comfortable in her finances, building up a safety net of cash over the years, she still had to survive on little over the wages of a florist, and therefore, this car had seemed perfect. Slender fingers wrapped lithely around the handle, pulling slightly and moving fluidly, with the rest of her body, to a standing position outside of the car. The door clicked shut. Carrying the song on in a soprano lilt, her lips parted fractionally, letting the soft sound seep out, the only sound in the otherwise quiet surroundings.
The trail was a little way off, about a half-mile back down the road, but she didn't want to be on the trail. This was more scenic, an untouched bouquet of jade and white. The small parting in the trees all the way up the trail was too familiar, too much like the town. This was the way the forest was meant to be, and while the trail caused little disruption of the it's natural growth, it was just as easy to drive slightly further, and get the view that she desired. Glancing idly around, a faint smile played on her lips, a genuine curve, at ease and comfortable. She wasn't the most extroverted soul around, and finding herself in such a calm atmosphere, she seized the chance to feel unperturbed, especially now that she felt normal again. She had let her thirst grow a little too long before her last hunt, too busy to quench the dull ache. Consequently, her eyes had darkened, gradually losing all of their gold hue, until they appeared a harsh, startling black. It was not a look she felt most comfortable in, and now, with her eyes a gentle shade of honey, her mind was at peace.
The air became... different. The faint, heady scent of the woods, spiked with occasional tangy top note of whichever animal was near, was suddenly polluted. A new scent, far more floral and sweet had attracted her attention, a scent she knew all too well. The scent of her own kind. The way the wind blew, the source of the scent was not far in front of her, then maybe 500 yards or so east, a distance she could run easily in seconds. Turning her head back, dark locks fell forward slightly as she checked she was without company. Of course, she would have smelled another being, but it was a precaution. Emm broke into a light sprint, the faint movements of her feet leaving the smallest of depressions in the undergrowth, nothing identifiable as foot prints. The clearing, in front of her. She stopped a hundred yards short of it, smelling the air again. The scent was stronger here, but the trail was weak, possibly a few days old. She began forward again, her motion fluid as she sprang over the plants, coming into contact with the bare grass. The wind was sharper here, she noticed that, but it wasn't causing her discomfort, obviously. Closing her eyes, her slight frame carried toward the middle of the clearing, stopping about 50 yards short of the centre point. The ground here was drier without the canopy to shield it from any light, and so, she lay on the grass, limbs down in a casual fashion, although her position looked more like an outdoor photo shoot, than an easy place to rest. [/ul][/size][/color][/font]
