Post by princessleo on Jul 15, 2009 5:46:49 GMT 10
[/size]Evelyn Frances Clark !
Fun. Creative. Broken.
Name: Evelyn Frances Clark
Nickname(s): Evie, Eve
Degree: Art
Major: Visual Art
Minor: Writing
Age: 19
Grade: Freshmen
Birthdate: March 13, 1990
Orientation: Straight
Location: Kilkenny, Ireland
`Appearance !
Evie is pretty short, about 5'3. Adding to her small appearance, she's very thin. She eats like some kind of ravenous animal, but because of her overly quick metabolism, it's near impossible for her to put on weight. Being a vegetarian probably doesn't help either. She only weighs about 98 pounds. Her deep hazel, extremely expressive eyes are usually the first thing to catch you though. They seem to pierce your soul, look inside of you and pull out all your secrets. But their also a gateway into her soul also. People feel as though they could fall into them, and never stop falling. Like the deepest darkest pits, they seem to swallow you. Evie's long, silky brown hair is the second thing. Like angel feathers, its very thin and falls around her face, seeming to make her look even paler. That's the third thing. Her skin is extremely pale, so pale you could mistake her for a ghost. It's so pale, it's hard for her to get a tan. She usually just burns in the sun. When she does get a tan, which is rare, it almost never touches her face. It usually only adds some color to her legs, or her torso.
Evie doesn't seem to care what other people think, but she loves to feel pretty. Her creativity causes her to wear eccentric things. She loves to go to thrift stores, and loves long skirts, or dresses. One day she'll be prep, the next she'll be goth,the next she won't fit into any stereotype ever made. Evie loves to shop, and loves all her clothes. If something gets too small to wear anymore or it doesn't look right, she'll pull out her scissors and needle and make it look like something a designer made. She loves to makeup her face, but most days, she'll just brush on some eyeshadow and let her natural beauty do the rest.
Evelyn is very beautiful and thin faced, but behind her eccentric clothing, Evie hides her past. Her scars are the same color as her skin, and one would have to look very hard to actually see them. They run up and down her arms, a complex rhythm of criss crossed blade work. She still cuts, and if one actually looks hard enough to see them, they would be rebuked by her favorite fashion accessories that, usually, hide her 'artwork'. She almost always wears either a huge black fleece jacket, way too big for her, with dragons stitched into the back, or black wristbands with tiny broken hearts sewn into them. The scars cover her almost everywhere, her hands, her arms, the very tops of her thighs. She's all about 'DIY', clothing and body.
Her ears are pierced, once on each lobe, and one more above the first on her left ear, in which she usually wears a silver stud or ring. Evelyn's favorite animal adorns her right shoulder, the wolf seeming to come to life on her shoulder blade. A small, permanent anklet of stars also wraps around her left ankle, and, although marred by the scars, a small, self made broken heart and rose decorates the inside of her left wrist. Evelyn loves to decorate herself, and loves jewelry as well as clothes. She feels as if they let her be noticed. Keep her alive. Make her real...
Evie is pretty short, about 5'3. Adding to her small appearance, she's very thin. She eats like some kind of ravenous animal, but because of her overly quick metabolism, it's near impossible for her to put on weight. Being a vegetarian probably doesn't help either. She only weighs about 98 pounds. Her deep hazel, extremely expressive eyes are usually the first thing to catch you though. They seem to pierce your soul, look inside of you and pull out all your secrets. But their also a gateway into her soul also. People feel as though they could fall into them, and never stop falling. Like the deepest darkest pits, they seem to swallow you. Evie's long, silky brown hair is the second thing. Like angel feathers, its very thin and falls around her face, seeming to make her look even paler. That's the third thing. Her skin is extremely pale, so pale you could mistake her for a ghost. It's so pale, it's hard for her to get a tan. She usually just burns in the sun. When she does get a tan, which is rare, it almost never touches her face. It usually only adds some color to her legs, or her torso.
Evie doesn't seem to care what other people think, but she loves to feel pretty. Her creativity causes her to wear eccentric things. She loves to go to thrift stores, and loves long skirts, or dresses. One day she'll be prep, the next she'll be goth,the next she won't fit into any stereotype ever made. Evie loves to shop, and loves all her clothes. If something gets too small to wear anymore or it doesn't look right, she'll pull out her scissors and needle and make it look like something a designer made. She loves to makeup her face, but most days, she'll just brush on some eyeshadow and let her natural beauty do the rest.
Evelyn is very beautiful and thin faced, but behind her eccentric clothing, Evie hides her past. Her scars are the same color as her skin, and one would have to look very hard to actually see them. They run up and down her arms, a complex rhythm of criss crossed blade work. She still cuts, and if one actually looks hard enough to see them, they would be rebuked by her favorite fashion accessories that, usually, hide her 'artwork'. She almost always wears either a huge black fleece jacket, way too big for her, with dragons stitched into the back, or black wristbands with tiny broken hearts sewn into them. The scars cover her almost everywhere, her hands, her arms, the very tops of her thighs. She's all about 'DIY', clothing and body.
Her ears are pierced, once on each lobe, and one more above the first on her left ear, in which she usually wears a silver stud or ring. Evelyn's favorite animal adorns her right shoulder, the wolf seeming to come to life on her shoulder blade. A small, permanent anklet of stars also wraps around her left ankle, and, although marred by the scars, a small, self made broken heart and rose decorates the inside of her left wrist. Evelyn loves to decorate herself, and loves jewelry as well as clothes. She feels as if they let her be noticed. Keep her alive. Make her real...
Best Feature: "People always seem to stare at my eyes, I don't know. One guy once said I had the deepest eyes he'd ever seen, but I think he was a little off his rocker."
Worst Feature: "My nose. I hate it. It looks sooo crooked to me!!"[/size]
`Personality !
Evie loves to have fun. She's just fun to be around most of the time. Well, when she's having good days and is able to hide the sorrow away. But back to the point. She's fun to be around, and is pretty good at bringing people out of their shells. Making people laugh is her specialty. It's easy to relax around her, and just let yourself go. Some people find her reckless, but most think she's just a little crazy and fun loving.
Evie is extremely creative. It's like some tiny little genius got locked up inside of her. She loves photography, because you can make it whatever you want it to be. She's also an avid piano player. The little genius just spews music from her fingertips, and she's always humming some song or another. Whenever she sits down at the bench, she enters her own little world. The music comes out of her like thin wispy clouds. Every tune is different, and you never hear the same thing twice because she can't recreate them, and never bothers to write anything down. Her music is absolutely beautiful. She can also sing, but she never does in front of other people. She thinks her voice sucks, but if anyone actually heard her sing, they'd think it was an angel...
No matter what she seems to be on the outside, Evelyn's inside is torn up. Her past has left her barely able to be really truly happy. She's usually able to fake it, when she's having one of her good days, but bad days are often. That's when her sorrow gets so bad it's useless to try to control it, to push it back down to the depths of her mind where it usually stays. Sometimes she just zones out, and it's impossible to get her attention. She cries alot when she's alone, and if you catch her on a particularly bad day, she just won't speak at all, scared that something she says might make her start crying. She's really fragile, and her sorry, broken excuse for a heart seems to be barely holding her together...
Evie loves to have fun. She's just fun to be around most of the time. Well, when she's having good days and is able to hide the sorrow away. But back to the point. She's fun to be around, and is pretty good at bringing people out of their shells. Making people laugh is her specialty. It's easy to relax around her, and just let yourself go. Some people find her reckless, but most think she's just a little crazy and fun loving.
Evie is extremely creative. It's like some tiny little genius got locked up inside of her. She loves photography, because you can make it whatever you want it to be. She's also an avid piano player. The little genius just spews music from her fingertips, and she's always humming some song or another. Whenever she sits down at the bench, she enters her own little world. The music comes out of her like thin wispy clouds. Every tune is different, and you never hear the same thing twice because she can't recreate them, and never bothers to write anything down. Her music is absolutely beautiful. She can also sing, but she never does in front of other people. She thinks her voice sucks, but if anyone actually heard her sing, they'd think it was an angel...
No matter what she seems to be on the outside, Evelyn's inside is torn up. Her past has left her barely able to be really truly happy. She's usually able to fake it, when she's having one of her good days, but bad days are often. That's when her sorrow gets so bad it's useless to try to control it, to push it back down to the depths of her mind where it usually stays. Sometimes she just zones out, and it's impossible to get her attention. She cries alot when she's alone, and if you catch her on a particularly bad day, she just won't speak at all, scared that something she says might make her start crying. She's really fragile, and her sorry, broken excuse for a heart seems to be barely holding her together...
Likes:
-Clothes/Jewelry
-Music
-Animals
-Singing
-Friends
-Writing
-Autumn
-Outdoors
-Photography
-Feeling the Rush, doesn't matter how, just to feel alive
Dislikes:
-Being Alone
-Pain
-Complete Silence
-Extreme Cold
-Extreme Heat
-Bugs that Bite
-Indoors
-Being Given Things
-Surprises
-Getting Too Close To People
-Snobs/Popular People who think they're better than everyone else
Positive Traits: Evelyn is one of those people you can open up to about anything. She tends to mother people, and always wants to know what's wrong. Sometimes her nosiness can get her into trouble, but most of the time, people will open up to her and share their secrets. All she ever wants to do is help. She will walk up to a complete stranger and make them feel better. She loves to cheer people up, and she's pretty good at making them laugh, or feel a little better. She's also good at giving advice, and can get pretty deep into it. She's very gentle with other people, well, most of the time. She's good at making friends with people, and bringing them out of their shell. She also very protective of other people and her friends. She's good at keeping your secrets, and will keep them to the death.
Negative Traits: Evie has a very dry sense of sarcasm that is hard to recognize unless you know her. Sometimes she can seem a little harsh, but she's actually just joking around. She can be very mean, and will have you bawling in seconds. It's easy to regret anything if she's the one chewing you out. She also can get herself into trouble alot with her sense of adventure, but that's not always a bad thing about her. She can convince you to do alot of bad things, and she's pretty manipulative sometimes. She also has a pretty short temper.
Greatest Ambition: Finding who she really is.
Greatest Fear: People leaving her, which seems to be happening quite often.[/size]
`History !
When Emily Rosetta Clark gave birth to her daughter, her husband, Andrew Edwin Clark, was angry. He had hoped for a boy, someone who would be able to work more. Evelyn was passed off to a nanny almost as soon as she was home from the hospital. Her parents didn't want anything to do with her. That was pretty much her whole life from then on. Evelyn grew up being passed from nanny to nanny, and none of them were particularly nice. Some of them even went to the lengths of hitting her. Her parents didn't care. They gave her what she wanted to keep her quiet and content. Evelyn's family was extremely wealthy, and it didn't bother her parents to keep throwing money away on a child they barely even knew.
When Evelyn was twelve, she was handed off to a nanny that was actually nice to her. Anne felt bad for the little girl who was so loud and outspoken, just begging for attention from somebody. All she really wanted was to be loved, to be cared for by somebody who actually cared about her. Most of her best memories were spent with that nanny, but when she died a year later, Evie fell into a deep depression. Her parents, informed of this by the nannies, made the decision that it was just a phase and she would get over it.
At sixteen, Evelyn met John, a guy who said he loved her. He complimented her, was perfectly nice to her. She had no idea what she was getting herself into. Evie fell into an abusive relationship with John. She lost her virginity about a month after they had started going out, and John forced Evelyn to have sex with him. She didn't tell anyone, because he still told her he loved her, and she loved him to. She didn't want to see him hurt, even though he was hurting her every day. She felt loved for the first time in her life, and she wasn't about to throw that away.
One day, when one of Evie's friends saw John hit her, they reported him. He was arrested and Evelyn was alone again. She realized what had happened and her heart broke. She found solace in music, and taught herself to play the piano. She couldn't read sheet music, so she just made up her own tunes. She felt alone though, as if she were disappearing. Her friends suddenly weren't there anymore, and that's when she began cutting. It helped, to feel the pain, to see the blood. It helped her stay there, stay solid, keep from disappearing from her world. It helped to play the piano too. The music helped her express herself. And so did the photography. It helped to take photos of the world, to remind her that she had been there, and she had done that.
All she really wants is to be close to someone again, to let herself be real with someone. But she's scared to death to be that hurt again...
When Emily Rosetta Clark gave birth to her daughter, her husband, Andrew Edwin Clark, was angry. He had hoped for a boy, someone who would be able to work more. Evelyn was passed off to a nanny almost as soon as she was home from the hospital. Her parents didn't want anything to do with her. That was pretty much her whole life from then on. Evelyn grew up being passed from nanny to nanny, and none of them were particularly nice. Some of them even went to the lengths of hitting her. Her parents didn't care. They gave her what she wanted to keep her quiet and content. Evelyn's family was extremely wealthy, and it didn't bother her parents to keep throwing money away on a child they barely even knew.
When Evelyn was twelve, she was handed off to a nanny that was actually nice to her. Anne felt bad for the little girl who was so loud and outspoken, just begging for attention from somebody. All she really wanted was to be loved, to be cared for by somebody who actually cared about her. Most of her best memories were spent with that nanny, but when she died a year later, Evie fell into a deep depression. Her parents, informed of this by the nannies, made the decision that it was just a phase and she would get over it.
At sixteen, Evelyn met John, a guy who said he loved her. He complimented her, was perfectly nice to her. She had no idea what she was getting herself into. Evie fell into an abusive relationship with John. She lost her virginity about a month after they had started going out, and John forced Evelyn to have sex with him. She didn't tell anyone, because he still told her he loved her, and she loved him to. She didn't want to see him hurt, even though he was hurting her every day. She felt loved for the first time in her life, and she wasn't about to throw that away.
One day, when one of Evie's friends saw John hit her, they reported him. He was arrested and Evelyn was alone again. She realized what had happened and her heart broke. She found solace in music, and taught herself to play the piano. She couldn't read sheet music, so she just made up her own tunes. She felt alone though, as if she were disappearing. Her friends suddenly weren't there anymore, and that's when she began cutting. It helped, to feel the pain, to see the blood. It helped her stay there, stay solid, keep from disappearing from her world. It helped to play the piano too. The music helped her express herself. And so did the photography. It helped to take photos of the world, to remind her that she had been there, and she had done that.
All she really wants is to be close to someone again, to let herself be real with someone. But she's scared to death to be that hurt again...
Best Memory: "One day, Anne took me to a really big park and we had a picnic on a hill. I fed a squirrel some Cheeto's, and it was the most wonderful day."
Worst Memory: "When... he left... and I realized... that he never really... loved me..."
[/size]
`Writing Skill !
The young woman ran up the tall winding stairs, running to her room and slamming the door shut, leaning her thin form against it. She bowed her head, her long brown hair shielding her face as the hot tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. She slid to the floor, covering her face with her hands and letting loose sobs that seemed to shake her body like an earthquake. She sat there for a minute, unable to move as the pain ripped through her, ravaging her already broken heart. The memories were just too painful. How could anyone take this pain? And live?
Evelyn knew without thinking about it that nobody would come to ask her what was wrong, and if she was ok. Nobody cared. She was too old for the nannies, now they, meaning her parents, just let her live in their house. They didn't care what time she came home, when she left, where she was going, what she was doing. Everything was just 'a phase' to them.
Evie thought back to what had brought on this bought of pain. She had walked in the door to the house, and then, zoning out, had stared out the window next to the door for exactly four minutes. She had suddenly felt the pain rip through her as she looked down at one of the flower pots that decorated the front porch. The memories rushed her, sending her back to that day.
John had yelled at her, pushing her down on the ground, and she fell onto the flower pot. It had broken on the edge of the intricate clay pot, and cut her arm. John had snapped back to himself, apologizing and taking her inside to help her clean it up. Then they had come back outside, Evie's arm bandaged up, and turned the pot sideways so the broken piece wasn't visible against the large bushes.
After that memory had rushed through her head, Evie had rushed up to her room, and now here she was. She released her hands from her face, the tears still running down her cheeks. She dug her hand inside the pocket of her giant black jacket that hung off her body like an old sack and pulled out a thin razor blade. She pulled back the arm of her jacket, exposing her thin, white, scar filled arm. Still leaning against the door, she put three thin, but deep, slashes into her skin. Her sobs slowed as the blood rushed out, dripping onto the floor. She watched, pressing her fingers onto her arm above the three wounds, as the blood rushed out faster, then slowed. Evie wiped her razor on her jacket sleeve, stuffed it back into her pocket, and stood. She wiped her eyes with a tissue, cleaned up the blood, pulled down her sleeve and flopped onto her bed. She looked up, her face still red from crying, at the ceiling. The she rolled over, buried her face in the pillows, and started crying again.
[/size][/center]The young woman ran up the tall winding stairs, running to her room and slamming the door shut, leaning her thin form against it. She bowed her head, her long brown hair shielding her face as the hot tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. She slid to the floor, covering her face with her hands and letting loose sobs that seemed to shake her body like an earthquake. She sat there for a minute, unable to move as the pain ripped through her, ravaging her already broken heart. The memories were just too painful. How could anyone take this pain? And live?
Evelyn knew without thinking about it that nobody would come to ask her what was wrong, and if she was ok. Nobody cared. She was too old for the nannies, now they, meaning her parents, just let her live in their house. They didn't care what time she came home, when she left, where she was going, what she was doing. Everything was just 'a phase' to them.
Evie thought back to what had brought on this bought of pain. She had walked in the door to the house, and then, zoning out, had stared out the window next to the door for exactly four minutes. She had suddenly felt the pain rip through her as she looked down at one of the flower pots that decorated the front porch. The memories rushed her, sending her back to that day.
John had yelled at her, pushing her down on the ground, and she fell onto the flower pot. It had broken on the edge of the intricate clay pot, and cut her arm. John had snapped back to himself, apologizing and taking her inside to help her clean it up. Then they had come back outside, Evie's arm bandaged up, and turned the pot sideways so the broken piece wasn't visible against the large bushes.
After that memory had rushed through her head, Evie had rushed up to her room, and now here she was. She released her hands from her face, the tears still running down her cheeks. She dug her hand inside the pocket of her giant black jacket that hung off her body like an old sack and pulled out a thin razor blade. She pulled back the arm of her jacket, exposing her thin, white, scar filled arm. Still leaning against the door, she put three thin, but deep, slashes into her skin. Her sobs slowed as the blood rushed out, dripping onto the floor. She watched, pressing her fingers onto her arm above the three wounds, as the blood rushed out faster, then slowed. Evie wiped her razor on her jacket sleeve, stuffed it back into her pocket, and stood. She wiped her eyes with a tissue, cleaned up the blood, pulled down her sleeve and flopped onto her bed. She looked up, her face still red from crying, at the ceiling. The she rolled over, buried her face in the pillows, and started crying again.
`Behind The Character !
Name: TJ
Age: 16
Role-playing experience: 5 years
How you found us: I've been looking around for a site for a while, and found What Fools. It seemed to be what I've been looking for, so... Here I am!!! ;D
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