Post by jezebel scarlett montague on Jan 25, 2010 19:42:40 GMT -5
[/color] sam.
NAME ,
AGE ,[/color] seventeen.
CONTACT ,[/color] msn: foreverxmorexx@live.com or aim: foreverxmorexx
PLAY-BY ,[/color] selena gomez
[/blockquote]
---------------------------------------------
NAME ,[/color] jezebel scarlett montague
NICK NAMES ,[/color] just jezebel.
BIRTH DATE ,[/color] seventeen, february fourteenth
EDUCATION ,[/color] high school senior
HOMETOWN ,[/color] aspen, colorado
SEXUALITY ,[/color] heterosexual.
MEMBER GROUP ,[/color] briggs high.
[/blockquote]
---------------------------------------------
FAVORITE FOOD ,[/color] clementines.
THREE THINGS YOU CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT ,[/color] fresh air, books, black and white movies
FAVORITE SONG ,[/color] look after you, the fray
FAVORITE PIZZA TOPPING ,[/color] supreme.
LAST TEXT FROM ,[/color] maxwell clarke.
RANDOM THOUGHT ,[/color] i dont want to go home tonight...
[/blockquote]
---------------------------------------------
[/color]
HISTORY,
my history isn't important, really. but... if you insist. i was born seventeen years ago in aspen, colorado. my mom had my dad get his tubes tied after that, so i was their first and only child. my mom always had a lotttt of money, so growing up i was really well taken care of. my mom loved me to death, and i knew it. my dad, he loved me, too, i guess. but he was always more obsessed with my future, how much money i would make and what i would become. despite that, though, i had a happy childhood. when i was eight, we moved here to briggs, because my mom's parents died and left us their home in east briggs. i had the time of my life, really, until i turned eleven. my mom got into a really bad car accident, and she died. i was devastated, and i thought my dad was, too. he was always crying. we moved out of the house, and i thought it was because of the bad memories until i heard him yelling at my grandma over the phone about how she locked of her money away in bank accounts for me instead, to get when i turned twenty-one, and left him nothing. i didnt understand - i thought mommy loved daddy, but... maybe i had been wrong. we moved into a dirty house in central briggs, and that was when my father started... selling me. the first man that came into our house, it was when i was twelve years old. he told me we were going to play a little game, but i didn't want to play because i was busy reading. but he made me. i lost my virginity to a grown man through rape at the age of twelve. innocence has gone out the window for me, since i've been sold to different men pedaled through our home for the past five years. i've never told anyone, because my father always threatened me if i did. he's a desperate man, and i knew that if he said he would hurt me or even kill me if i ever told, he probably would. desperate men go to extreme lengths to get things - i know that better than anyone else. when i was fifteen, i got pregnant for the first time. i tried as long as i could to hide it from my father, but he found out anyway. he forced me to the abortion clinic, and i aborted my four month old child. i got pregnant again three months later - that didn't last as long. my father forced me into another abortion. it was longer after that, about seven months later, that i got pregnant again. i ran away from home because i couldn't stand to lose another, but he caught me. he always does. he caught me, and beat me, then brought me back home. i miscarried my third child, and with that diagnosis came the diagnosis that the miscarriage had messed things up inside me, and i could never get pregnant again. my father ruined me completely. things... got worse after that, if that's even possible. my only escape is in school, even though i'm practically failing - dont have much time for homework when you're too busy getting fucked by men who pay to be with you almost every night. i cant leave, i cant get out of this nightmare, because my father would just find me. find me, and enslave me again. i want hope. i want something to fight for. but i dont have it. i dont think i ever will.
PERSONALITY,[/color]
mistrusting, bitter, angry, burning out, sarcastic, closed off, imaginative, creative, alone, edgy, blunt, tough, sexual, timid, introverted, broken, depressed, wanting hope, wanting freedom.
THE ETC,[/color]
she's secretly and undercover nerd - she loves to read and write about anything and everything. she used to dream of being an author - but that dream died along with all the rest once her father took over her life in the most crude and impossible way.
[/blockquote]
---------------------------------------------
[/color]
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE ,
School was a hopeless institution. Out of the all the students in all the classes that high school provided, out of all the students that heard the same bullshit that they could actually go into the world and make a difference, how many of them actually would? The lucky ones would get accepted into Ivy League schools to further their education, and maybe go on to becoming excellent liars of politicians, or became surgeons who made tons of money. But the large amount of people would go to regular college, have regular classes, and lead regular lives, making a difference to no one except for themselves. Carter Sanders wanted to be one of the few who made it far. She made effortless grades in school without even trying, and trust me, she didn’t try. The girl was blessed with an exceptionally sharp mind that allowed her to keep up without putting in the work, and it was something she was thankful for because at that point, she was completely done with the institution all together. As a senior in high school, most would classify her sudden lack of interest as ‘senioritis’. Carter would like to describe it as realizing that her future wasn’t going to be in high school, but beyond it, and therefore saw it as pointless. Was that really so hard for people to understand?
To further her disappointment and lack of enjoyment in her days spent at school, her teachers were all idiots. Carter had no idea how many fucking times they’d docked her grade on a test or quiz because she happened to voice her opinions. Never mind the fact that when she ‘spoke her mind’ it was often in rude terms and left the teacher sputtering for words and offering her detention. Was it bad of her to like going to detention? She met all the hot boys there, anyway. All the ones with the tattoos and that musky smell of smoke from cigarettes constantly smoked that clung to their jackets. It was more than just a little bit of a turn on when they rode a motorcycle or had a criminal record… she liked her men tough and ready to rumble, so to speak. It was always better in bed when things were rough, anyway, though she had no aversion to the soft and more gentle kinds of sex. But regardless, her favorite was when it was rough and you came away sore, bruised, and feeling more loose and free than you had before you started. She’d be dozing, flitting in and out of consciousness most of the last period. Day dreaming about how the lighting was perfect, and how she wished she could take her camera out for some pictures. Also, she was daydreaming about the new boy in the leather jacket she’d met in detention the day before… now he made her blood boil. She had a faint smile on her lips, happy in her daydream, when the teacher’s voice dragged her back to consciousness.
Her hazel eyes instantly narrowed on the teacher, her lips turning upwards in a smirk. ”What’s just so interesting of a dream that you aren’t paying attention to my class, Ms. Sanders?” He asked, presuming that he had caught her in the act and she had no where to run. Carter leaned back in her chair, cocking her head to the side, that smirk still on her lips. ”Oh, just dreaming that I was out of it - I don’t like to waste my time.” The teacher’s face grew red, and he turned around and walked back to his desk, continuing on in the lecture as though she had never spoken. She was lucky, she knew. That particular teacher had no backbone when it came to writing kids up for detention. Despite the fact she loved the crowd, she didn’t feel like being stuck at school another second that day. Her mind began to wander again, until the teacher was calling the class to attention. They were to each pick a name from a hat, and that person would be their partner for the project he just assigned. She hadn’t really been paying attention, but she had a vague idea of what it was about. As he worked his way up the aisle, she prayed she didn’t get some stupid idiot for a partner. When he stopped at her desk, she stuck her hand inside the hat, pulling out a sheet of paper and twirling it in her fingers for a moment before she opened it. Oh God. It was worse than an idiot, it was Freddie Clarke. Carter’s eyes instantly shot up, narrowing on his arrogant and cocky figure sitting seats away from her. Jesus Christ, it was just her luck.
She wouldn’t be able to deny the fact she found him attractive - she didn’t know any girl that really could. But she could testify to the fact that she didn’t find him very appealing in any way other than that. He made her blood boil, and it as much as she liked fighting, she hated it with him. Carter didn’t like to find that she could be bested in a game of sharp words, but Freddie Clarke seemed to do it more often than she liked. As the teacher told them to find their partner and pick their subject for the project, Carter heaved a sigh and stood, walking over to his desk and dropping the piece of paper with his name on it on his desk. ”Of all the people I could have had for my partner…” She started, sighing once more and crossing her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed, ”I know using your brain is hard, Freddie, considering that I seriously doubt you have one. But you should at least try and put forth some effort. The quicker we get this shit done, the better.” Her tone was sharp, matching the expression in her eyes.
[/blockquote]
[/blockquote][/sup][/font]
template © kayla at manhattan from the sky
