Post by Mallory Middleton on Oct 14, 2007 14:42:31 GMT -5
CHARACTER INFO
Full Name;
MALLORY RAE MIDDLETON
Age;
17
Grade;
JUNIOR [Plot says junior but list says sophomore... So I flipped a coin]
Birthday;
NOVEMBER 23
Gender;
FEMALE
Clique; [ GOTH ]
History;
November 23, 1990. 6:09:23 am. Walter Reed Army Medical Hospital. Washington D.C. Mallory Rae Middleton was born with the umbilical chord wrapped around her neck. The doctors quickly snapped it and the screaming baby girl entered the world with a huge bang. Mallory was Diana and Sawyer's second child, first daughter. They were so proud of their little girl who was going to grow up taking ballet lessons every Saturday, become the prom queen, love her country and be everything they ever wanted in a girl. Well, it didn’t really turn out the way they planned. She was born to the former pageant queen and the war hero, she was supposed to be the product of the American dream. Mallory likes to call it the American lie.
But more about that later.
Two weeks later, the Middleton family packed up the cars and drove north on I-95 to the suburbs of Boston Massachusetts. They call the town Weston, and it is literally a postcard. Gorgeous homes, gardens, families and only fifteen minutes away from the city, it looks like a clip right out of the American dream.
When Mallory was five she got her hands on a guitar for the first time and she fell in love. She hasn’t been twenty-four hours without playing it at least once her entire life. Throughout her elementary and middle school she was picked on for her attitude. She never wanted to fit in; it confused her why she couldn’t be herself. So in seventh grade, she was known for being one of the weird kids who didn’t focus on boys shopping and makeup. She was more than relieved when she and her mother moved away.
Again they packed up the cat and drove south on I-95. All the way south to beautiful Miami Florida. “Miami people are different, they’re more laid back” her mother kept assuring her. Young Mallory was in sixth grade, still being the hell raiser who didn’t care what all the ‘popular girls’ thought. The drama doesn’t stop, no matter where you go.
Where’s dad? The couple split because of his excessive traveling for the army, sort of ironic how Mallory's father was the patriotic war general and she was one of the people out there protesting against war. Anyways, the two split, sort of a mutual decision. The divorce went very smoothly and every agreement was made quickly and without fuss. But Mallory’s mom panicked, and that’s how they ended up going south.
Mallory spent her middle school years in Miami Middle School with her mom going out every Friday night, trying to find the new mister right. It never happened. By this time she had graduated from her acoustic to her black Stratocaster, her red Squier bass and occasionally the drums on the side. She even took up keyboard when she got bored. Anything to get her mind off of the people she had to put up with. She also became very fond of art. Painting and graffiti were her main things to do.
Mallory spent her school years in Miami and summers in Boston, having two places to call home was pretty nice. The summer between eighth and ninth grade her mother decided she would move back up to Boston letting Mallory stay behind in a dorm at Miami High. One day while helping her mom move in she met Andrew.
Andrew and Mallory hit it off right away, when she was down in Miami they’d talk on the phone during the holidays Mallory would hang out with him and during the summer you couldn’t get the two apart. You know where this is heading. Just a reminder, her life is filled with these wonderful clichés.
Between Mallory's freshman and sophomore year the two started dating. Things between them got pretty serious. One night at a party the two found themselves kissing, shortly after they found themselves in the pool house. That was a mistake, the couple decided to keep what happened that night a secret between them. They stopped dating but were still good friends. He sparked her love for physical intimacy though, throwing her into a rut for her next year.
The first day of her sophomore year her dad and the boys were shipped out to Iraq. People asked her why she was against the whole idea of this war when she should be supporting her father. She'd simply reply "Why would I support a war that kills and injures people daily? That will probably kill my father, some people that I grew up with and that takes innocent lives daily?"
Mallory moved into her dorm room that day, wearing her father's dogtags from Desert Storm back in the early nineties. She heard something over the loud music, coming from the door. That was when she met Mason, the boy stole her heart from the moment they both stared at each other awkwardly. Their relationship became more and more awkward as the year developed, until finally one day he kissed her. That kiss lead to broken hearts, slit wrists, and more with just a simple contact of two people's lips.
One night, with all of said drama going on Mallory went out to a friend's party, just to have some fun and hopefully a random hookup. She caught the attention of one boy from her school. Peyton hated this boy, he was the type to lead every girl on, the king of the campus whatever you want to call it; he was used to getting what he wanted. Even with a slight buzz and her need for companionship for the night she was still able to feel her hate for him and turn him down when he offered to 'rock her night'. Mallory just rolled her eyes and grabbed her stuff, walking home. She didn't realize he'd follow her all the way back to the dorm on a night when Mason was off with some other girl, not there to protect his best friend. Mallory tried to fight him off, but he took advantage of her then left satisfied with what he had gotten and leaving Mallory on the floor unconscious. When she woke up, she felt like something was torn out of her life, her eyes didn't show any more twinkle, they were just sad, almost all the time.
Mallory tried to pick herself up again, tried to get back into her life, she seemed happy but hated herself on the inside. He had stripped everything away from her and she never had the guts to tell anyone that the Prom King had raped her. Mason saw something wrong and went to comfort his friend, subconsciously leading her on again. He made it seem like she was the love of his life, in her eyes Jeremie could do no wrong. He made her and everione else around her that they were going to be together forever. Then crushed her when he introduced her to his girlfriend. Mallory put on a smile and acted all happy, another piece ripped from her insides.
Cocaine, Heroine and Vodka. Her three new best friends. The four met at a party around Christmas time that Mallory attended. She let it slip to someone that she felt really stressed and he lead her to the back with a few other people. Within a month she had to start wearing long sleeves to keep everyone from looking at the trackmarks on her arms. She got tired of the whispers and glares after a while and toned down on the drugs.
Spring break, everyone heads south, right? Mallory took a plane north up to Boston to watch her mother marry the man that Mallory hated. He pushed her mother around, had actually hit Mallory a few times, stolen money, the list goes on. Mallory showed up for the wedding and made the mistake of asking her mother, the night of her wedding before she went on her honeymoon, possibly one of the most fatal questions ever. "Do you ever miss dad?" It was the last time she spoke to her mother, she cut off all funds to Mallory, refused to pay for her college, refused to even think about the girl.
She lay in her bed that night, staring at the ceiling when her friend came in. The look on her face told Mallory something went wrong. Something terrible had happened. Her father, the man she had adored, the name she'd look for every day in the newspaper and always felt relieved to not see it in the "Casualities on Iraq" section.
"Your father was shot down, and killed"
Rip Another part of her was missing.
After Mason leading her on once more, after her reunion with the heroin needle and after all of the useless nights with boys and the occasional girl whom she'd never speak to again she got into an accident, she was in her friends car, they were going home from a party. The boy who had taken advantage of her so long ago had died from driving into her car full speed, his blood alcohol limit was off the charts, Mallory walked away with a few bumps and bruises, but nothing major. (Seatbelts save lives, kids). Ofcourse everyone blamed her for it. 'Oh she hated him so much, thats why she killed him', she had heard it so many times that she was beginning to believe it herself. She wasn't even in the drivers seat.
What drove her to the edge. Mallory's brother, he was older than her, hadn't been around alot but was still very close to his baby sister. He had been suffering from depression since he was a child, and when he hung himself people were upset but in a morbid way were expecting it to happen. Mallory had no family, no one to turn to, no future, all of her dignity stripped away, any and all confidence and self esteem was gone. She was alone, not even her art or music could be there for her anymore.
Mallory decided to make another piece of art, drawing "FUCK UP" on her arm with a razor. Mason found her before moving the last box into his new apartment. Much to her dismay she woke up in the hospital, Mason there for her as usual. She would usually see him and brighten up but why now would she want to look at him? She pretended to stay asleep until he left for the night. When the hospital finally let her out, perscribed her medication and therapy she nodded everything off and drove to the place where she felt she could be with one person who never let her down.
She took the money she had saved and bought a plane ticket to Las Vegas, meeting her aunt and going to live with her. Starting over this year at a new high school, still partying, still living hard. Still longing for some physicl intimacy but the little voice in the back of her mind is begging for an actual relationship.
Plots With other Cannons;
Plot: 3. No Satisfaction
Personlity;
She's your typical jaded, sardonic and bitter teenager. She can be generous and sweet at points and only around certain people. Usually its only around her friends, but every once in a while someone comes along and makes her smile. Usually around people she's never met she's cold and intimidating. For some people it amuses them and they stick around and end up being friends with the girl.
Mallory unintentionally shows a need to be the finest among her peers; even as a child she was seen to react aggressively when another child would surpass her. She was likely fouled by her father as a young child. She is rather futile and was raised to believe that power and control are what make a person strong. She puts up a good fight, verbal and physical. She's not afraid to be a total bitch.
Oh yes, she loves a good fight. Ever since she was a baby she’s fought everything. Even little things she’ll fight about if he’s bored. She’s very protective of her friends, especially a certain few, if you even so much as think about insulting them or harming them in any way she will come down on you harder and faster than anything you could ever imagine.
She’s spirited, assertive; she speaks up for herself and is aggressive. Not the type of aggressive who goes around looking for a fight, even if she finds herself in them frequently, but the type of aggressive where if she sees something she wants she’ll go get it. She doesn’t give up on anything without a fight. Ever since birth she’s been stubborn, she just doesn’t give up. Which can either be a good or a bad thing, take your pick.
The side that only comes out around friends, or other people who she feels comfortable around is fun and likes to have a good time. She turns into a wild and sexy and sweet young thing. She tries to be the life of the party whenever she can be. She's elecrtricly charged and feisty, she can be very out going and open minded at times. She likes to be herself, not the clone she was raised to be, everyone else is already taken.
Mallory is an artist. Some people are apprehensive about calling themselves artists, but she will blatantly tell someone that's what she is when they ask. Some will ask, 'Oh, and what types of art do you do?' She does it all, painting, sketching even graffiti. She's also a musician, a very accomplished one at that. She's been playing guitar since she was three years old, she remembers the day she first touched a guitar. She was three years old and her father was sitting on the back porch plucking some Bob Dylan song. Mallory crawled onto her father's lap and he taught her a few chords. She hasn't gone a day since then without a guitar in her hands. She writes songs, even sings, though her voice isn't the greatest it has some sort of flare to it.
She can be sweet and loving, a shoulder to cry on or someone to go seek advice with. She can be easy to be around, making people laugh is one of her many traits. She loves making people laugh, it makes her smile. She likes to just spend a night in the dorm talking with her friends just as much as she likes having some wild night.
The one part of her, only her closest friends and people who have seen her tattoo know this, they know that she has hope. She's got hope for the world and for everyone around her. She thinks the whole world's glory bound. She tries to see past all of the evils of the world, and tries to see that there is some shard of good left. Though it's hard for her to see, she knows its there and that people are fully capable of it.
Good Traits;
[+] Makes People Laugh
[+] Firm in her beliefs
[+] Outgoing
[+] Laid Back
[+] Artistic
[+] Doesn't to the whole gossip // Drama thing
Bad Traits;
[-]Pushing hair out of her eyes when nervous.
[-]The whole drugs//Drinking//Sex//Partying thing
[-]Smoking
[-]Flirting with anything that moves
[-]Likes Physical Intimacy a bit TOO much
[-]Insecure
[-]Sarcastic
Appearance;
All you'd have to do is look at her from behind and you could almost instantly recognize those light locks. She was born with platinum hair, almost white at first, and has grown to change it with her moods. Her natural color turned into more of a honey blonde with loose waves, but she hates that. She doesn't want to look like the preppy cheerleader her parents had always wanted her to be. Her natural hair seems to emulate that type of personality on her, She straightens her hair, dyes it, cuts it in different ways. Everything she can to make herself different, to not follow the trend.
The first thing you'd notice when face to face with the girl are her eyes. Her big blue eyes, hold all of the sadness or happiness in the world. All of her emotions or moods or what she'd thinking gets reflected directly to her eyes. She likes her eyes, actually, possibly one of the only things she could say she liked about herself without telling lies. They're usually rimmed with eyeliner, of all sorts. She'll switch it up with sparkles and bright colors and sometimes just plain black.
Tattoos. She's got one, but she'll never tell. It sits on her lower left back, and written in cursive letters "Pour Ecrire Amour", To Write Love. Yes, based off of 'To Write Love on Her Arms', she felt like it would be something deep and close to her heart after losing her brother, her best friend and almost herself to depression. She'll only show it to people who she grows close to, usually followed by 'Is there a story behind it?' and then she tells them, reluctantly and ending in an awkward silence.
Her wardrobe is... Well... Unique. She wears some pretty insane things and she likes it. She doesn't care if she gets disapproving stares and when people tell her that her outfits are "Unique" with a scoff, she'dd just put on her notorious fake smile and tell them "That's why I wear it and you don't"
Actress/Actor Claim;
KIKI KANNIBAL
Sample Photo;
Likes;
[+] Boys // Girls
[+] Guitar
[+] Music
[+] Art
[+] Speaking her mind (It tends gets her in trouble)
[+] Tattoos
[+] Her car
[+] The Smiths
[+] Running
[+] Smoking
[+] Drinking
[+] Kissing || Sex
[+] Old movies
[+] Laughing
[+] Her Dad's dogtags
[+] Being hypocritical
Dislikes;
[-] Racisim
[-] Homophobia
[-] Sexism
[-] Valentines Day
[-] Yellow
[-] Rumors
[-] Snitches
[-] Stitches
[-] Bitches
[-] War
[-] Long car rides
[-] Baggy Clothing
[-] Ignorance
[-] Crying
[-] Judgement
[-] Annoying laughs
[-] Those sneezes girls do to be cute when they're not really sneezes they're squeaks 'achoo, teehee I'm an attention whore'
[-] Hypocrites
Goals;
[1] To start over in Vegas, hopefully make things right
[2] Attempt to clear things up with her mom.
[3] Find a boy or girl who won't tear her heart out // Get over her sluttish habbits
[4] Become a music producer
Fears;
-Being Alone
-Being vulnerable
-Unable to protect herself
Sample Roleplay;
RPer INFO
Name;
Haley
Years of Experiance;
4
Favorite Flavor of Jelly Beans;
I've never been a jelly bean person myself but if I had to choose t would be green apple.
Full Name;
MALLORY RAE MIDDLETON
Age;
17
Grade;
JUNIOR [Plot says junior but list says sophomore... So I flipped a coin]
Birthday;
NOVEMBER 23
Gender;
FEMALE
Clique; [ GOTH ]
History;
November 23, 1990. 6:09:23 am. Walter Reed Army Medical Hospital. Washington D.C. Mallory Rae Middleton was born with the umbilical chord wrapped around her neck. The doctors quickly snapped it and the screaming baby girl entered the world with a huge bang. Mallory was Diana and Sawyer's second child, first daughter. They were so proud of their little girl who was going to grow up taking ballet lessons every Saturday, become the prom queen, love her country and be everything they ever wanted in a girl. Well, it didn’t really turn out the way they planned. She was born to the former pageant queen and the war hero, she was supposed to be the product of the American dream. Mallory likes to call it the American lie.
But more about that later.
Two weeks later, the Middleton family packed up the cars and drove north on I-95 to the suburbs of Boston Massachusetts. They call the town Weston, and it is literally a postcard. Gorgeous homes, gardens, families and only fifteen minutes away from the city, it looks like a clip right out of the American dream.
When Mallory was five she got her hands on a guitar for the first time and she fell in love. She hasn’t been twenty-four hours without playing it at least once her entire life. Throughout her elementary and middle school she was picked on for her attitude. She never wanted to fit in; it confused her why she couldn’t be herself. So in seventh grade, she was known for being one of the weird kids who didn’t focus on boys shopping and makeup. She was more than relieved when she and her mother moved away.
Again they packed up the cat and drove south on I-95. All the way south to beautiful Miami Florida. “Miami people are different, they’re more laid back” her mother kept assuring her. Young Mallory was in sixth grade, still being the hell raiser who didn’t care what all the ‘popular girls’ thought. The drama doesn’t stop, no matter where you go.
Where’s dad? The couple split because of his excessive traveling for the army, sort of ironic how Mallory's father was the patriotic war general and she was one of the people out there protesting against war. Anyways, the two split, sort of a mutual decision. The divorce went very smoothly and every agreement was made quickly and without fuss. But Mallory’s mom panicked, and that’s how they ended up going south.
Mallory spent her middle school years in Miami Middle School with her mom going out every Friday night, trying to find the new mister right. It never happened. By this time she had graduated from her acoustic to her black Stratocaster, her red Squier bass and occasionally the drums on the side. She even took up keyboard when she got bored. Anything to get her mind off of the people she had to put up with. She also became very fond of art. Painting and graffiti were her main things to do.
Mallory spent her school years in Miami and summers in Boston, having two places to call home was pretty nice. The summer between eighth and ninth grade her mother decided she would move back up to Boston letting Mallory stay behind in a dorm at Miami High. One day while helping her mom move in she met Andrew.
Andrew and Mallory hit it off right away, when she was down in Miami they’d talk on the phone during the holidays Mallory would hang out with him and during the summer you couldn’t get the two apart. You know where this is heading. Just a reminder, her life is filled with these wonderful clichés.
Between Mallory's freshman and sophomore year the two started dating. Things between them got pretty serious. One night at a party the two found themselves kissing, shortly after they found themselves in the pool house. That was a mistake, the couple decided to keep what happened that night a secret between them. They stopped dating but were still good friends. He sparked her love for physical intimacy though, throwing her into a rut for her next year.
The first day of her sophomore year her dad and the boys were shipped out to Iraq. People asked her why she was against the whole idea of this war when she should be supporting her father. She'd simply reply "Why would I support a war that kills and injures people daily? That will probably kill my father, some people that I grew up with and that takes innocent lives daily?"
Mallory moved into her dorm room that day, wearing her father's dogtags from Desert Storm back in the early nineties. She heard something over the loud music, coming from the door. That was when she met Mason, the boy stole her heart from the moment they both stared at each other awkwardly. Their relationship became more and more awkward as the year developed, until finally one day he kissed her. That kiss lead to broken hearts, slit wrists, and more with just a simple contact of two people's lips.
One night, with all of said drama going on Mallory went out to a friend's party, just to have some fun and hopefully a random hookup. She caught the attention of one boy from her school. Peyton hated this boy, he was the type to lead every girl on, the king of the campus whatever you want to call it; he was used to getting what he wanted. Even with a slight buzz and her need for companionship for the night she was still able to feel her hate for him and turn him down when he offered to 'rock her night'. Mallory just rolled her eyes and grabbed her stuff, walking home. She didn't realize he'd follow her all the way back to the dorm on a night when Mason was off with some other girl, not there to protect his best friend. Mallory tried to fight him off, but he took advantage of her then left satisfied with what he had gotten and leaving Mallory on the floor unconscious. When she woke up, she felt like something was torn out of her life, her eyes didn't show any more twinkle, they were just sad, almost all the time.
Mallory tried to pick herself up again, tried to get back into her life, she seemed happy but hated herself on the inside. He had stripped everything away from her and she never had the guts to tell anyone that the Prom King had raped her. Mason saw something wrong and went to comfort his friend, subconsciously leading her on again. He made it seem like she was the love of his life, in her eyes Jeremie could do no wrong. He made her and everione else around her that they were going to be together forever. Then crushed her when he introduced her to his girlfriend. Mallory put on a smile and acted all happy, another piece ripped from her insides.
Cocaine, Heroine and Vodka. Her three new best friends. The four met at a party around Christmas time that Mallory attended. She let it slip to someone that she felt really stressed and he lead her to the back with a few other people. Within a month she had to start wearing long sleeves to keep everyone from looking at the trackmarks on her arms. She got tired of the whispers and glares after a while and toned down on the drugs.
Spring break, everyone heads south, right? Mallory took a plane north up to Boston to watch her mother marry the man that Mallory hated. He pushed her mother around, had actually hit Mallory a few times, stolen money, the list goes on. Mallory showed up for the wedding and made the mistake of asking her mother, the night of her wedding before she went on her honeymoon, possibly one of the most fatal questions ever. "Do you ever miss dad?" It was the last time she spoke to her mother, she cut off all funds to Mallory, refused to pay for her college, refused to even think about the girl.
She lay in her bed that night, staring at the ceiling when her friend came in. The look on her face told Mallory something went wrong. Something terrible had happened. Her father, the man she had adored, the name she'd look for every day in the newspaper and always felt relieved to not see it in the "Casualities on Iraq" section.
"Your father was shot down, and killed"
Rip Another part of her was missing.
After Mason leading her on once more, after her reunion with the heroin needle and after all of the useless nights with boys and the occasional girl whom she'd never speak to again she got into an accident, she was in her friends car, they were going home from a party. The boy who had taken advantage of her so long ago had died from driving into her car full speed, his blood alcohol limit was off the charts, Mallory walked away with a few bumps and bruises, but nothing major. (Seatbelts save lives, kids). Ofcourse everyone blamed her for it. 'Oh she hated him so much, thats why she killed him', she had heard it so many times that she was beginning to believe it herself. She wasn't even in the drivers seat.
What drove her to the edge. Mallory's brother, he was older than her, hadn't been around alot but was still very close to his baby sister. He had been suffering from depression since he was a child, and when he hung himself people were upset but in a morbid way were expecting it to happen. Mallory had no family, no one to turn to, no future, all of her dignity stripped away, any and all confidence and self esteem was gone. She was alone, not even her art or music could be there for her anymore.
Mallory decided to make another piece of art, drawing "FUCK UP" on her arm with a razor. Mason found her before moving the last box into his new apartment. Much to her dismay she woke up in the hospital, Mason there for her as usual. She would usually see him and brighten up but why now would she want to look at him? She pretended to stay asleep until he left for the night. When the hospital finally let her out, perscribed her medication and therapy she nodded everything off and drove to the place where she felt she could be with one person who never let her down.
She took the money she had saved and bought a plane ticket to Las Vegas, meeting her aunt and going to live with her. Starting over this year at a new high school, still partying, still living hard. Still longing for some physicl intimacy but the little voice in the back of her mind is begging for an actual relationship.
Plots With other Cannons;
Plot: 3. No Satisfaction
Personlity;
She's your typical jaded, sardonic and bitter teenager. She can be generous and sweet at points and only around certain people. Usually its only around her friends, but every once in a while someone comes along and makes her smile. Usually around people she's never met she's cold and intimidating. For some people it amuses them and they stick around and end up being friends with the girl.
Mallory unintentionally shows a need to be the finest among her peers; even as a child she was seen to react aggressively when another child would surpass her. She was likely fouled by her father as a young child. She is rather futile and was raised to believe that power and control are what make a person strong. She puts up a good fight, verbal and physical. She's not afraid to be a total bitch.
Oh yes, she loves a good fight. Ever since she was a baby she’s fought everything. Even little things she’ll fight about if he’s bored. She’s very protective of her friends, especially a certain few, if you even so much as think about insulting them or harming them in any way she will come down on you harder and faster than anything you could ever imagine.
She’s spirited, assertive; she speaks up for herself and is aggressive. Not the type of aggressive who goes around looking for a fight, even if she finds herself in them frequently, but the type of aggressive where if she sees something she wants she’ll go get it. She doesn’t give up on anything without a fight. Ever since birth she’s been stubborn, she just doesn’t give up. Which can either be a good or a bad thing, take your pick.
The side that only comes out around friends, or other people who she feels comfortable around is fun and likes to have a good time. She turns into a wild and sexy and sweet young thing. She tries to be the life of the party whenever she can be. She's elecrtricly charged and feisty, she can be very out going and open minded at times. She likes to be herself, not the clone she was raised to be, everyone else is already taken.
Mallory is an artist. Some people are apprehensive about calling themselves artists, but she will blatantly tell someone that's what she is when they ask. Some will ask, 'Oh, and what types of art do you do?' She does it all, painting, sketching even graffiti. She's also a musician, a very accomplished one at that. She's been playing guitar since she was three years old, she remembers the day she first touched a guitar. She was three years old and her father was sitting on the back porch plucking some Bob Dylan song. Mallory crawled onto her father's lap and he taught her a few chords. She hasn't gone a day since then without a guitar in her hands. She writes songs, even sings, though her voice isn't the greatest it has some sort of flare to it.
She can be sweet and loving, a shoulder to cry on or someone to go seek advice with. She can be easy to be around, making people laugh is one of her many traits. She loves making people laugh, it makes her smile. She likes to just spend a night in the dorm talking with her friends just as much as she likes having some wild night.
The one part of her, only her closest friends and people who have seen her tattoo know this, they know that she has hope. She's got hope for the world and for everyone around her. She thinks the whole world's glory bound. She tries to see past all of the evils of the world, and tries to see that there is some shard of good left. Though it's hard for her to see, she knows its there and that people are fully capable of it.
Good Traits;
[+] Makes People Laugh
[+] Firm in her beliefs
[+] Outgoing
[+] Laid Back
[+] Artistic
[+] Doesn't to the whole gossip // Drama thing
Bad Traits;
[-]Pushing hair out of her eyes when nervous.
[-]The whole drugs//Drinking//Sex//Partying thing
[-]Smoking
[-]Flirting with anything that moves
[-]Likes Physical Intimacy a bit TOO much
[-]Insecure
[-]Sarcastic
Appearance;
All you'd have to do is look at her from behind and you could almost instantly recognize those light locks. She was born with platinum hair, almost white at first, and has grown to change it with her moods. Her natural color turned into more of a honey blonde with loose waves, but she hates that. She doesn't want to look like the preppy cheerleader her parents had always wanted her to be. Her natural hair seems to emulate that type of personality on her, She straightens her hair, dyes it, cuts it in different ways. Everything she can to make herself different, to not follow the trend.
The first thing you'd notice when face to face with the girl are her eyes. Her big blue eyes, hold all of the sadness or happiness in the world. All of her emotions or moods or what she'd thinking gets reflected directly to her eyes. She likes her eyes, actually, possibly one of the only things she could say she liked about herself without telling lies. They're usually rimmed with eyeliner, of all sorts. She'll switch it up with sparkles and bright colors and sometimes just plain black.
Tattoos. She's got one, but she'll never tell. It sits on her lower left back, and written in cursive letters "Pour Ecrire Amour", To Write Love. Yes, based off of 'To Write Love on Her Arms', she felt like it would be something deep and close to her heart after losing her brother, her best friend and almost herself to depression. She'll only show it to people who she grows close to, usually followed by 'Is there a story behind it?' and then she tells them, reluctantly and ending in an awkward silence.
Her wardrobe is... Well... Unique. She wears some pretty insane things and she likes it. She doesn't care if she gets disapproving stares and when people tell her that her outfits are "Unique" with a scoff, she'dd just put on her notorious fake smile and tell them "That's why I wear it and you don't"
Actress/Actor Claim;
KIKI KANNIBAL
Sample Photo;
Likes;
[+] Boys // Girls
[+] Guitar
[+] Music
[+] Art
[+] Speaking her mind (It tends gets her in trouble)
[+] Tattoos
[+] Her car
[+] The Smiths
[+] Running
[+] Smoking
[+] Drinking
[+] Kissing || Sex
[+] Old movies
[+] Laughing
[+] Her Dad's dogtags
[+] Being hypocritical
Dislikes;
[-] Racisim
[-] Homophobia
[-] Sexism
[-] Valentines Day
[-] Yellow
[-] Rumors
[-] Snitches
[-] Stitches
[-] Bitches
[-] War
[-] Long car rides
[-] Baggy Clothing
[-] Ignorance
[-] Crying
[-] Judgement
[-] Annoying laughs
[-] Those sneezes girls do to be cute when they're not really sneezes they're squeaks 'achoo, teehee I'm an attention whore'
[-] Hypocrites
Goals;
[1] To start over in Vegas, hopefully make things right
[2] Attempt to clear things up with her mom.
[3] Find a boy or girl who won't tear her heart out // Get over her sluttish habbits
[4] Become a music producer
Fears;
-Being Alone
-Being vulnerable
-Unable to protect herself
Sample Roleplay;
It seemed she was here more than she was in her office or in the studio. The drinks were good and cheap, and once in a while she'd find new talent, most nights the band sucked and the demo CDs that were pushed at her sounded like they had been recorded on a phone. Tonight the band playing on stage was definaley entertaining. They made the crowd scream and mosh and whatnot, but all she could hear was that the drummer's tempo was too fast, the guitars were out of time and the bass wasn't in tune.
Peyton took a shot of Absinthe before grabing her vodka and walking over to the side of the stage. There was an amp there, perfect for her to rest on and listen to the band, see the crowd, and not be annoyed by the same kids who asked her every time they saw her 'So, did you listen to the demo?' She had no idea why she ever let anyone there know she was a producer, a stupid move on her part.
She pushed her black bangs out of her face, her blue eyes wandering down to her black skinny jeans. She looked back up at the band, then around the room. Maybe she'd actually find someone to talk to without the intention of pushing their CD on her, it'd most likely be some guy trying to get in her pants. She wasn't one to give it up that easily, unless she was incredibly drunk.
I swear I'll be deaf by the time I'm fourty, she thought. Sitting this close to the amps probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, doing it all the time was even worse. It was like the curse of the music industry, musicians had it worse, but atleast they had earplugs. She adjusted her black cut up Iron Maiden shirt, cut and tied so it showed some cleavege and was tighter. Usually she'd cut up shirts when she was bored or she'd give her friend a shirt and it would return completely different.
Peyton gave a tiny sigh, taking a sip from her drink. She took a breath, smelling cigarette smoke, she reached for her bag, pulling out a the small white pack and placing a cigarette in her mouth. She threw that back in, fishing around for her lighter, Mother fucker how did I forget that?
Peyton took a shot of Absinthe before grabing her vodka and walking over to the side of the stage. There was an amp there, perfect for her to rest on and listen to the band, see the crowd, and not be annoyed by the same kids who asked her every time they saw her 'So, did you listen to the demo?' She had no idea why she ever let anyone there know she was a producer, a stupid move on her part.
She pushed her black bangs out of her face, her blue eyes wandering down to her black skinny jeans. She looked back up at the band, then around the room. Maybe she'd actually find someone to talk to without the intention of pushing their CD on her, it'd most likely be some guy trying to get in her pants. She wasn't one to give it up that easily, unless she was incredibly drunk.
I swear I'll be deaf by the time I'm fourty, she thought. Sitting this close to the amps probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, doing it all the time was even worse. It was like the curse of the music industry, musicians had it worse, but atleast they had earplugs. She adjusted her black cut up Iron Maiden shirt, cut and tied so it showed some cleavege and was tighter. Usually she'd cut up shirts when she was bored or she'd give her friend a shirt and it would return completely different.
Peyton gave a tiny sigh, taking a sip from her drink. She took a breath, smelling cigarette smoke, she reached for her bag, pulling out a the small white pack and placing a cigarette in her mouth. She threw that back in, fishing around for her lighter, Mother fucker how did I forget that?
RPer INFO
Name;
Haley
Years of Experiance;
4
Favorite Flavor of Jelly Beans;
I've never been a jelly bean person myself but if I had to choose t would be green apple.
