Post by annabelle on Jan 4, 2011 18:43:24 GMT -5
annabelle tallulah waldgrave
character basics
WELCOME TO YOUR LIFE, THERE'S NO TURNING BACK. EVEN WHILE
YOU SLEEP, WE WILL FIND YOU ACTING ON YOUR BEST BEHAVIOR
character basics
WELCOME TO YOUR LIFE, THERE'S NO TURNING BACK. EVEN WHILE
YOU SLEEP, WE WILL FIND YOU ACTING ON YOUR BEST BEHAVIOR
FULL NAME , Annabelle Tallulah Waldgrave
NICKNAMES , Annie, Anna, Belle.
AGE , Twenty
BIRTHDAY , September 20th
SEXUALITY , Bicurious
GRADE , if applicable
OCCUPATION , Advertiser for animal charities
MEMBER GROUP , socialite
hello, my name is Josie. i am eighteen years young and i consider myself a(n) beginner roleplayer. i found this site through a friend. so, here's an example of my average post:
Her mother had sent her away again. Ashamed. That was the word she’d used to describe her feelings towards her. Ashamed. Well, that was far too bad for her, wasn’t it?
Of course, she’d always wanted a daughter like Anna. A little rough round the edges but, all in all, she was a good little girl who appreciated what she had as well as the lesser things in life. Pah. Little did she know that the golden girl was actually far worse than Claire had ever been. Not that she liked to remind her mother of the dark days when she’d been the one crying in her room till two am because of something her brother had said to her. Nor would she be the stupid little girl who brought to her mothers attentions the way in which Nate had beheaded all of her dolls and cut tiny little holes in her old dresses from London. Nope. Claire refused to be the one to tell her that.
Eyeing the dress that stood tall on a mannequin behind the glass of one of the more prestigious shops, Claire sighed. It was beautiful. Any girl would have wanted it but…there was something missing. Perhaps it was the way in which the appliqué looked as if it was misplaced. Or maybe it was the stitching along the hem of the dress, she couldn’t pin the problem. Instead, the girl carried on walking. She’d walk and walk until she had rid her mind of the incessant thoughts of her mother and the disappointment she’d shown in her. Disappointment. What a bitter word that could be.
Biting on the nail that hid beneath it the real stump of her own, Claire eyed the lingering figure on the other side of the street. She was heading towards downtown, she knew that she would be. Those were the people she could really identify with. The ones she could let her hair down in front of. Whilst she was there she wasn’t Claire Elizabeth Waldgrave. No. she was Claire, the Londoner who liked to party. And whilst her mother begged for her not to be seen down there, especially now at this fragile moment in their lives, Claire ignored her.
She had to.
Eyeing the vendor that was selling hotdogs, Claire quickly handed him the crumpled dollar bill that loitered in the deep pockets of her Vintage Chanel coat. Thank you. she said politely, each syllable pronounced with a thick accent from the student of a Hampshire private school. After all, that’s where she’d been most of her life. She hadn’t seen why she couldn’t have remained there. The students were the sons and daughters of prestigious Ladies and Lords. The Count’s had sent their dearly beloved offspring to the beautiful school that was set in the countryside. Claire hadn’t really fitted in there either. She wasn’t as rich as the other students, her money coming from her mother’s boyfriends and partners. Her clothes were worn and messy compared to those who went there. The labels sticking out the back of her casual wear displayed the names like Topshop, H&M and River Island. There was nothing prestigious about those clothes but she’d been comfortable in them. And whilst some of the girls had sneered at the gap toothed girl, a few were more welcoming.
Her cat like eyes fell to the pavement as she pulled the fur coat a little closer around her shoulders. She’d hated herself then and she’d not really grown to adore herself now. She hated the way her teeth were separated in the middle, like a train track. She hated it. There was nothing sexy about a girl that had bad orthodontistry. Her mother had simply patted her on the blonde head and told her not to worry, she was beautiful inside and out. Not that she felt it. And her cheeks were always chubbier, her cousin ridiculing her for it. stop with the bread and then maybe you’ll lose a few pounds, darling cousin. She’d simpered as she sat with her bowl of grapes, blue cat like eyes sparkling with triumph as she watched her words sink through her skin to the core of the younger girl.
Heels clicking to the rhythm of the city, Claire bit in to the hot dog and licked her lips free of any crumbs that had stuck to her lip gloss. Sorry. She apologised hesitantly as she felt her handbag clash with another body. Looking around, she smiled softly as she saw the Lower side of Manhatten greet her with it’s big, common, polluted smile.
Of course, she’d always wanted a daughter like Anna. A little rough round the edges but, all in all, she was a good little girl who appreciated what she had as well as the lesser things in life. Pah. Little did she know that the golden girl was actually far worse than Claire had ever been. Not that she liked to remind her mother of the dark days when she’d been the one crying in her room till two am because of something her brother had said to her. Nor would she be the stupid little girl who brought to her mothers attentions the way in which Nate had beheaded all of her dolls and cut tiny little holes in her old dresses from London. Nope. Claire refused to be the one to tell her that.
Eyeing the dress that stood tall on a mannequin behind the glass of one of the more prestigious shops, Claire sighed. It was beautiful. Any girl would have wanted it but…there was something missing. Perhaps it was the way in which the appliqué looked as if it was misplaced. Or maybe it was the stitching along the hem of the dress, she couldn’t pin the problem. Instead, the girl carried on walking. She’d walk and walk until she had rid her mind of the incessant thoughts of her mother and the disappointment she’d shown in her. Disappointment. What a bitter word that could be.
Biting on the nail that hid beneath it the real stump of her own, Claire eyed the lingering figure on the other side of the street. She was heading towards downtown, she knew that she would be. Those were the people she could really identify with. The ones she could let her hair down in front of. Whilst she was there she wasn’t Claire Elizabeth Waldgrave. No. she was Claire, the Londoner who liked to party. And whilst her mother begged for her not to be seen down there, especially now at this fragile moment in their lives, Claire ignored her.
She had to.
Eyeing the vendor that was selling hotdogs, Claire quickly handed him the crumpled dollar bill that loitered in the deep pockets of her Vintage Chanel coat. Thank you. she said politely, each syllable pronounced with a thick accent from the student of a Hampshire private school. After all, that’s where she’d been most of her life. She hadn’t seen why she couldn’t have remained there. The students were the sons and daughters of prestigious Ladies and Lords. The Count’s had sent their dearly beloved offspring to the beautiful school that was set in the countryside. Claire hadn’t really fitted in there either. She wasn’t as rich as the other students, her money coming from her mother’s boyfriends and partners. Her clothes were worn and messy compared to those who went there. The labels sticking out the back of her casual wear displayed the names like Topshop, H&M and River Island. There was nothing prestigious about those clothes but she’d been comfortable in them. And whilst some of the girls had sneered at the gap toothed girl, a few were more welcoming.
Her cat like eyes fell to the pavement as she pulled the fur coat a little closer around her shoulders. She’d hated herself then and she’d not really grown to adore herself now. She hated the way her teeth were separated in the middle, like a train track. She hated it. There was nothing sexy about a girl that had bad orthodontistry. Her mother had simply patted her on the blonde head and told her not to worry, she was beautiful inside and out. Not that she felt it. And her cheeks were always chubbier, her cousin ridiculing her for it. stop with the bread and then maybe you’ll lose a few pounds, darling cousin. She’d simpered as she sat with her bowl of grapes, blue cat like eyes sparkling with triumph as she watched her words sink through her skin to the core of the younger girl.
Heels clicking to the rhythm of the city, Claire bit in to the hot dog and licked her lips free of any crumbs that had stuck to her lip gloss. Sorry. She apologised hesitantly as she felt her handbag clash with another body. Looking around, she smiled softly as she saw the Lower side of Manhatten greet her with it’s big, common, polluted smile.