Post by kitty on Feb 16, 2009 11:30:32 GMT -5
* JADIS DENALI HEART ,
wasting away (s i x t e e n) summers in the sun.
when the lights go off, watch the way i take the stage by storm.
(j a d e), i see my name in the lights.
if only i had the heart for you.
* MAKE I T COUNT ,
"The most common word I hear when people try to describe me is 'cute' or 'cuddly'. I suppose it's because of how young I look, I swear I'll be fifty three and still get carded, then again maybe that's not a bad thing. My face is rounded and full, though not pudgy, my eyes are open but appear slightly set in. Some say they appear the faintest bit asian in their almond shape. There color is a dark coppery brown, nothing special, though they seem black until fragments of light find them. Being the slightest bit tan does nothing for me as my naturally jet black hair takes what little color was there out of my complexion. Though truly I can't complain because in my opinion I'd look weird any other way. Full & thick my naturally curling hair is always straightened to the best of my ability and it falls several inches below my chest.
I've been told by many that I have "nice curves", something I think I inherited from my mother, then again I honestly don't know for sure. At five feet, four inches it's sufficient to say I'm on the shorter side, add a mere one hundred and nineteen pounds to the mix. The term fun sized seems to fit me dead on the mark. My clothes are nothing special, I wear what's comfy and takes little effort to find. My wardrobe consisting of a mirage of zip-up hoodies, tank top, t-shirts, & jeans, always paired with my 'lucky' classic high top chucks. Finally I top off the look by adding a bit of eye liner, a dash of eye shadow, & a tid bit of lip gloss..."J U N I O R"I'm not gonna lie by not wanting to seem slightly vain so I'll just come out and say that I am indeed a sweetie pie. I'll bend over backward for anyone, doing all I can to make a complete stranger that I don't even like if it'll make them happy. See the one thing I can't stand is when someone is sad or angry, and I especially am weak when someone cries. I'm completely naive in those situations, I'll do anything I can to make things better even if I know I'm just being taken advantage of. Needless to say I am a nurturer, the mothering type, I tend to act like more of a mother to my friends than their own, but again it can't be helped. I suppose it makes sense that I want to be a nurse, I'm good at helping other, plus I don't have the nerve to do anything like surgery. too much blood for my taste.
In general I like to think of myself as a friendly person, I tend to always give people a chance & find that third, fourth, sometimes even tenth impressions are the best. I find it hard to judge others, hard to gauge them at face value, perhaps that makes me a bad judge of character as well. As far as fuses goes mine is fairly long, I'll keep taking hits & come back for more, but when you cross the line you'll know it. Very seldom will I let myself get worked up or pissed off, though when I do it's sort of scary considering I go from zero to sixty in point two seconds and don't bother to stop there. Luckily ninety-nine percent of the time I'm the one trying to defuse a tense/hostile situation, call me the referee if you will. My greatest vice is the my trust issues. I find it nearly impossible to trust others fully. I may come off as a naive, give an inch type a person but in my short life I've found that everyone is more than willing to take a mile. In other words I'm not afraid to listen, I'm afraid to speak. I suppose it'd be adequate to say that I'd rather dwell on other people's problems than my own..."P A N S E X U A L"Reading is always fun and I always have a good book with me no matter where I go, it's just a given. Yeah everyone thinks I'm a bit of a book worm, but hey at least I'm not illiterate. Anyway music is definitely a central part in my existence, I alway have some sort of music device with me at all times. With that said I love to sing and although I suck at guitar I'm a piano master! i think I'm a horrible writer though I do it anyways. What can I say, I enjoy cramping my hand for reasons other than what you dirty minds are thinking... Lastly I am a passionate photographer & artist. From sculpting to arts & crafts, from drawing to design, from still life to candid, chances are I've tried it all & loved it. Besides those key basics I quite enjoy watching cheesy & old horror/gore flicks on the sofa, throwing pop corn at the screen. Oh & I love being silly, cuddling, tickle fights, trying throwing m & m's into someone's mouth from ten feet away. Laughing so hard I choke on my own spit, you know the works..."
* GAMBLE W I T H DESIRE ,
"On may twenty-seventh in New York City, the center of it all, a young French, German, Jamaican, Puerto Rican girl at the mere age of nineteen was rushed on a stretcher into surgery. In order to save her life they first had to extract the baby from her womb, though even that apparently couldn't save her. From what I've heard I didn't cry when I was born, in fact I was still, my lungs under developed and on the verge of collapsing. On top of this there was a literal hole in my heart. My birth father was contacted though my birth mother was gone long before he arrived, instead there was a sickly, premature little girl who had a one in one ten thousand chance of living. My birth father as you might expect was Japanese, he had come from japan four years earlier to live with his aunt only to meet my mother. He refused to leave the hospital, refused to leave me alone and all through the surgery to fix my heart and lungs I've been told he was a nervous wreck. From what I've been told the first time he held me he refused to let me go. Today I have few memories of them, I know their names were Rikuto Kurou Samo & Lora Arely La'Cre. I also remember the sound of piano.
That sweet sound, the only thing I have to remind me of those I really come from, what's left of my heritage. My father was a pianist and my mother and artist, after she died my father was lost and would send endless hours playing with me sitting on his lap. I have a picture of them and a picture of my father and I, in their picture they look happy, giddy, in other my father look happy, adoring as I slam on the keys with my little hands. When I was three my father decided he couldn't raise me on his own any longer and so he sought 'proper' parents for me. Olivia May & Carter James Heart were more than adequate, they spoiled me to no end and never treated me any different from their own blood related children. Marie Denali Heart & Jeremy James Heart were my siblings, both the natural children of Mr & Mrs Heart. Ten years older than myself Marie was out of the house before I had a chance to really know her. I got letters from my birth father twice a year until I was twelve the last one reading that he had a new family and wanted me to join him in his happiness. I waited but he never came. According to his letter I have a brother and though I'll probably never meet him Jeremy is the best replacement I could have ever asked for. JJ is only a year older than me so we are practically like twins.
We lived in Chicago up until a month or so ago, I'm so not used to this whole small town life thing, but the rents adopted another kid, a two year old name Macy Rain. Not wanting to raise another kid in the city they decided to move the family to an old farm that belonged to mom's grand parents. Now here we are, new to the country bumpkin scene. I hope to hell this adjusting thing isn't as hard as it seems. For now I'm just gonna try and take things one step at a time, to me it seems the only way I'll make it out of this place alive....M I D D L E C L A S S
* TENSION L I K E FIRE ,
k i t t y
The restless city; New York City, the place Crystabella called home, the only place she new she could live unnoticed, undetected, unsuspected. This was the city of crime, people died and went missing every day, so really what was another dead body in the eyes of good old NYC? A thud upon the ground signaled the finishing of yet another meal for the vampriss, yet another death at her hands. However the thirst still consumed her, she needed more, more fuel for that never ending fire that had claimed her all those years ago. With a thirsty like none other her tongue peered from behind extended fangs to lick away what ever stray droplets had sought refuge upon her lips. There was always one defining thing about Crysta's feeding technique there always seemed to be a signature of sorts, the scene so immaculate it was sickening. All that was left when she was finished was a corpse and two tiny puncture wounds. No single spec of blood left behind except for the final drop which lay inside the corpse itself, unwilling to come out and play.
In a savage nature, like that of a beast her head lifted to the sky, nostrils flared, and the air surrounding her was inhaled searching for the scent she so adored; the scent of blood coursing through veins. A scent so familiar, so strong that it made her sick to even think of. Crystabella-Lavina was desperate for more, desperate for more than her share of the metaphorical pie. However this time a weak, crazy homeless hobo would not do, no this time she needed something stronger, something...more. Eyes looked crazed and she inhaled again desperate to find what she so desperately wanted. Like the pull of a trigger her head whipped to the side in the direction of what she so craved. In lithe, fast movements Crystabella was standing in the shadow of the central park foot tunnel. Seemingly near glowing eyes watched as several boys messed with a young girl, the girl fighting back, clutching her purse and swinging as they neared her. Nostrils flared again to take in the scent of the humans and the blood which coursed through their veins.
Eyes and jar set and hardened as fury brewed within her, it was time to act. Faster than the mere mortals could conceive she was upon them. A demonic like hiss escaped her furiously in the direction of the young men, the thugs, who now stood before her as she took a defensive stance between them and the young girl. Teeth bared as she practically roared at them her stance and manner would have been enough to tell any other creature like her that this was hers. Scared witless the boys ran off and in turn Crysta turned to face the girl walking straight toward her. Hand clasped around the mortal's neck as Crystabella raised the being off the ground. Tears flooded the human's eyes as she pleaded and struggled. In one savage movement Crys inclined her head and punctured the girl's neck, drinking her near to the last drop.
When she finished Crysta eased the girl to the ground so that she was half sitting, lip, back against the wall. "You deserved better than this..." Crys whispered in the lifeless body's ear, a sob ripping through her chest as she crouched before the corpse that was her kill. There was only one last thing to do for the night, now that her thirst was satisfied the justice for the formerly assaulted girl. Rising and straightening Crystabella-Lavina stalked off in the direction the thugs had run, the single phrase "hell hath no fury like a woman scorn..." crossing her lips in a whisper as she set out to take care of unfinished business for the dead...
tag; open to anyone
notes;
anger, lust, & primal instinct. what's better than that?
[/ul][/left][/size][/color][/quote][/blockquote]PLAYEDBY;
melissa marie
i, kitty, hereby comply with all forum rules, and Proboards terms of service. I understand that if my character is innactive for over a week my character will be deleted.
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