Post by raleigh hainsworth on Aug 1, 2009 1:03:40 GMT -5
RaleighSebastiaanHainsworth
[/size][/font]"When you see yourself in a crowded room
Do your fingers itch, are you pistol-whipped?
And will you step in line or release the glitch?
And can you fall asleep with a panic switch?"
BUT IF THEY PUBLISH THIS PICTURE
[/color]you have the choice to sue them[/size][/center]
YOU START WITH YOURSELF
[/size]and you work backwards[/font][/center]
NAME: raleigh sebastiaan hainsworth
NICKNAMES: rally, bastiaan
AGE: eighteen
GENDER: female
SEXUALITY: heterosexual
SOCIAL STATUS: her family is rich.
MEMBER GROUP: raleigh is a tuition student.
SCHOOL IS LIKE A LOLLIPOP
[/size]it sucks until it is gone[/font][/center]
GRADE: junior.. for the second time around.
GPA: 2.7
BEST SUBJECT: math-related subjects
WORST SUBJECT: basically every other subject
CAREER PLANS: she currently is a self-proclaimed mechanic. bring her a broken watch, a rear-ended car, or a stubborn television -- she'll fix it. for a fee.
SCHOLARSHIP: n/a
I WAS A PERSONALITY BEFORE
[/size]i became a person[/font][/center]
FEARS:at least 2
- dying alone and arrogant
- drowning
DREAMS:at least 2
- to become something; anything, really. at all.
- to completely detach herself from her family.
SECRETS:at least 1
THREE BEST TRAITS:
THREE WORST TRAITS:
IT'S STUPID AND IT'S STRANGE
[/size]it's a directionless story[/font][/center]
PARENTS: The Hainsworths
- Michelle Elisabeth, 38, patent lawyer
- Benedikt Mayhem, 40, owner of a synthetic diamond manufacturing plant
SIBLINGS:
- Adriaan Mayhem, 20, works for his father
OTHER IMPORTANT FAMILY: none
NATIONALITY: 100% german
HISTORY:
raleigh sebastiaan hainsworth was born in heidelberg, germany, on april 12th, 1990. from her childhood, she learned to become independent. her parents were constantly busy, as most who make millions are. the life of the rich was not-so-glamorous as everybody made it out to be.
her mother left informal post-it notes on the refridgerator; that was mostly how they communicated. raleigh's father was only known to exist when birthdays or holidays came around.. and that was in the form of synthetic diamond presents. raleigh could own all the fake jewelry in the world, and it would never fill the void her parents left.
adriaan, her brother, was cold and isolated himself from everybody until he needed money.
on her sixteenth birthday, raleigh was given the option to have a obnoxiously gigantic party. she declined, opting for a battered, used '96 volkswagen jetta. her parents couldn't understand why she would want such an unclassy, sporty car.. especially an old one. raleigh didn't bother explaining, for she had the one material object that could keep her distracted. raleigh had always felt the urge to tinker with things, but that point in life truly showed her what she enjoyed; mechanics.
around the same time, raleigh was enrolled into antoinette academy, by force. she didn't mind where she went to school, really, but it was obvious the girl wouldn't fit in here. she picked up some bad habits, including smoking (which she still hasn't kicked). her gpa slipped from her fingers, more out of a lack of caring than anything, and in her junior year, she failed. the one thing raleigh was actually known for, (in a good way), was her misses-fix-it abilities. kids all over the school clamor to her for cheap mechanical help.
("don't want daddy to know about the dent you got in your brand-new ferrari? that's where i come in.")
revisiting her junior year once more, raleigh is eighteen and itching to get out. but not in any old way, of course.. she's gotta go out with a bang.
GIVE HIM A MASK AND
[/size]he will tell you the truth[/font][/center]
NAME: kaitlynne
EXPERIENCE: about seven years
HOW DID YOU FIND US?: neopets! (:
RP EXAMPLE: these are two completely different characters, from a modern roleplay. (;
The sun was bright. He put up his hand, transfixed on the beams of light shooting through the gaps between his fingers. So yellow, so perfect; toppling over every surface like a haphazard child. The wind carried a scent of rain and lavender, heavy and intoxicating.
And was that... laughter?
"Uh. Conner, you took that stuff hard, man!"
He made shadows on his face, wiggling his fingers back and forth. He could feel his pupils rapidly changing shapes, confused and irritated, he could feel it. Conner laughed with the rest of the voices.
"Snap the hell outta it. Get up," she moved her cigarette from her mouth, spat on the ground, and gave Conner a swift kick in the side. He flailed pathetically, turning on his side in defense.
"Marie..."
"No, not fuckin' Marie. It's Avery. Come on, Conner, I can't carry your heavy ass into town."
"Where's Marie?" Conner gurgled, forcing his palms into his eyes. "Where am I?"
Avery knelt beside Conner, putting out the cigarette on the sidewalk. It smoldered briefly and died. She watched him focusing onto the streetlight above him, realising that, no, it wasn't the sun. Just fake, cancerous, caterpillar yellow radioactivity. Beyond it was an equally unattractive black sky; nothing but satellites and untouchable dead stars.
She gingerly put her hand on his forehead, pushing his bangs away. It was a gentle action.
"We're almost home. Marie's dead." Avery and her terrible humour.
"No... don't say that," Conner managed to sit up. "You're always so negative."
"She might as well be, damn," Avery stood and put out a hand, chuckling. Conner pushed himself to his feet, declining the offer for her help. He started further into town, looking disoriented and dizzy. Avery followed him.
After awhile, her steps fell align with his, and she gave him a short shove.
"I always get into these things with you. I hate you," Conner responded. His feet felt heavy while his head seemed light, as if the parts of his body were miles from each other. He tried focusing on the sidewalk, the buildings, his hands -- only to find his eyes settling on Avery, a cat-like smirk playing on her face.
"No. You look for these things. It's all you, buddy. You and -- what's the name again? Mary?"
"Marie."
"That's your problem. See, you and this girl..."
Conner's head clouded while Avery went on about her theories. Marie, with the pretty chestnut hair and big grey eyes. The girl who giggled and had manners and long legs. Somewhere along the lines she turned into a tempermental war zone. To Conner, she was still beautiful. Still innocent, bubbly, butterfly perfect Marie. Not the one who had broken his heart several times, and most recently, screwed the brains out of his best friend. No, she was the girl he'd bring home to his parents, maybe build a family with. She was Marie.
Avery was definitely no Marie. Conner didn't want to listen to her, or stare into her sea green eyes, or make love to her. He just wanted her to be there for him, appear when he needed her. Avery picked up his pieces after he would drink too much, made fun of him, and occasionally they'd talk. It wasn't much of a relationship, but Conner wasn't looking for anything with Avery but her existence. But she knew this, and it worked because Avery didn't care much about Conner either.
She had lit another cigarette. Arching her neck, Avery blew the smoke from her lips, sighing. Short, choppy red hair -- artificial red -- fell from her eyes. Avery was pretty, Conner thought, when she wasn't being an asshole.
"-- not listening. That bitch will be the death of you!" Avery stated.
"What time is it?"
He always changed the subject eventually. Avery never got anything out of the boy, besides maybe his vomit, but that really wasn't her doing either. She didn't answer, because she didn't know. Her house was before Conner's, and they seperated.
And was that... laughter?
"Uh. Conner, you took that stuff hard, man!"
He made shadows on his face, wiggling his fingers back and forth. He could feel his pupils rapidly changing shapes, confused and irritated, he could feel it. Conner laughed with the rest of the voices.
"Snap the hell outta it. Get up," she moved her cigarette from her mouth, spat on the ground, and gave Conner a swift kick in the side. He flailed pathetically, turning on his side in defense.
"Marie..."
"No, not fuckin' Marie. It's Avery. Come on, Conner, I can't carry your heavy ass into town."
"Where's Marie?" Conner gurgled, forcing his palms into his eyes. "Where am I?"
Avery knelt beside Conner, putting out the cigarette on the sidewalk. It smoldered briefly and died. She watched him focusing onto the streetlight above him, realising that, no, it wasn't the sun. Just fake, cancerous, caterpillar yellow radioactivity. Beyond it was an equally unattractive black sky; nothing but satellites and untouchable dead stars.
She gingerly put her hand on his forehead, pushing his bangs away. It was a gentle action.
"We're almost home. Marie's dead." Avery and her terrible humour.
"No... don't say that," Conner managed to sit up. "You're always so negative."
"She might as well be, damn," Avery stood and put out a hand, chuckling. Conner pushed himself to his feet, declining the offer for her help. He started further into town, looking disoriented and dizzy. Avery followed him.
After awhile, her steps fell align with his, and she gave him a short shove.
"I always get into these things with you. I hate you," Conner responded. His feet felt heavy while his head seemed light, as if the parts of his body were miles from each other. He tried focusing on the sidewalk, the buildings, his hands -- only to find his eyes settling on Avery, a cat-like smirk playing on her face.
"No. You look for these things. It's all you, buddy. You and -- what's the name again? Mary?"
"Marie."
"That's your problem. See, you and this girl..."
Conner's head clouded while Avery went on about her theories. Marie, with the pretty chestnut hair and big grey eyes. The girl who giggled and had manners and long legs. Somewhere along the lines she turned into a tempermental war zone. To Conner, she was still beautiful. Still innocent, bubbly, butterfly perfect Marie. Not the one who had broken his heart several times, and most recently, screwed the brains out of his best friend. No, she was the girl he'd bring home to his parents, maybe build a family with. She was Marie.
Avery was definitely no Marie. Conner didn't want to listen to her, or stare into her sea green eyes, or make love to her. He just wanted her to be there for him, appear when he needed her. Avery picked up his pieces after he would drink too much, made fun of him, and occasionally they'd talk. It wasn't much of a relationship, but Conner wasn't looking for anything with Avery but her existence. But she knew this, and it worked because Avery didn't care much about Conner either.
She had lit another cigarette. Arching her neck, Avery blew the smoke from her lips, sighing. Short, choppy red hair -- artificial red -- fell from her eyes. Avery was pretty, Conner thought, when she wasn't being an asshole.
"-- not listening. That bitch will be the death of you!" Avery stated.
"What time is it?"
He always changed the subject eventually. Avery never got anything out of the boy, besides maybe his vomit, but that really wasn't her doing either. She didn't answer, because she didn't know. Her house was before Conner's, and they seperated.
IF YOU READ THE RULES
[/size]you know what goes here[/font]
[/center]