Post by jaclyn on Jan 16, 2009 16:10:30 GMT 10
[/size]`Felicity Marie Bronte!!!
quirky, sociable, generous
Name: Felicity Bronte
Nickname(s): Flick
Major: Dance
Age: 21
Grade: Senior
Birthdate: October 25
Orientation: Bi-sexual {prefers men}
Location: Boston, Massachusetts
`Appearance ,,
The girl is a dwarfish 5’5” and she tends to look a lot shorter than she actually is. Partly due to the fact that her legs are rather short and what little height she posses is all held in her torso. Felicity is a slender, achieving the perfect body of a dancer, although her height hampers her in some ways; but she manages to keep the elegant body that is required to keep up with the demanding routines and the complicated moves they perform. She’s 110 pounds of pure muscle, toned legs and behind fill her jeans nicely and she narrow shoulders compliment her small frame. Felicity has been accused of anorexia, but dancing puts a lot of demands on a girl and she knows how to stay at a healthy weight.
Mousy brown hair sits atop her head, falling is soft waves to her shoulders; often times Felicity can be found pulling her thick locks into a high ponytail at the back of her head, much easier to dance without the worries of chocking on a piece of hair. She doesn’t particularly care for the shade she happened to be born with, but she doesn’t have much choice in the matter; her family would disown her if she dared to dye it the color she desired. Dark hair contrasts nicely against her fair skin, making her look a bit less pale than she actually is. Both features together bring out the odd coloring of her eyes, an odd greenish gray that often changes depending on the lighting available.
Normally found rushing from one class to another in the typical college sweats, or tugging on a wrinkled pair of men’s basketball shorts, comfort is a must for the dancer. Why bother putting on a nice pair of jeans when dance class is in a hour and sweating is in your future? When she does discard the oversized gray blobs, Felicity enjoys dressing in bright colors and eccentric pairings of patterns and fabrics. She’s definitely no fashion major, that group with excommunicate her as she leaves her dorm with mismatched socks and the dreaded brown shoes and black belt. Of course, she has her sense of style and takes pride in being comfortable, but original.
The girl is a dwarfish 5’5” and she tends to look a lot shorter than she actually is. Partly due to the fact that her legs are rather short and what little height she posses is all held in her torso. Felicity is a slender, achieving the perfect body of a dancer, although her height hampers her in some ways; but she manages to keep the elegant body that is required to keep up with the demanding routines and the complicated moves they perform. She’s 110 pounds of pure muscle, toned legs and behind fill her jeans nicely and she narrow shoulders compliment her small frame. Felicity has been accused of anorexia, but dancing puts a lot of demands on a girl and she knows how to stay at a healthy weight.
Mousy brown hair sits atop her head, falling is soft waves to her shoulders; often times Felicity can be found pulling her thick locks into a high ponytail at the back of her head, much easier to dance without the worries of chocking on a piece of hair. She doesn’t particularly care for the shade she happened to be born with, but she doesn’t have much choice in the matter; her family would disown her if she dared to dye it the color she desired. Dark hair contrasts nicely against her fair skin, making her look a bit less pale than she actually is. Both features together bring out the odd coloring of her eyes, an odd greenish gray that often changes depending on the lighting available.
Normally found rushing from one class to another in the typical college sweats, or tugging on a wrinkled pair of men’s basketball shorts, comfort is a must for the dancer. Why bother putting on a nice pair of jeans when dance class is in a hour and sweating is in your future? When she does discard the oversized gray blobs, Felicity enjoys dressing in bright colors and eccentric pairings of patterns and fabrics. She’s definitely no fashion major, that group with excommunicate her as she leaves her dorm with mismatched socks and the dreaded brown shoes and black belt. Of course, she has her sense of style and takes pride in being comfortable, but original.
Best Feature: 'My best feature? Physically? Well...I guess I'd have to say my eyes. They are such a interesting color, it provides a great conversation starter and I find it amusing when men try that pathetic attempt to pick girls up with complimenting their 'deep, green eyes.' None of them know how to categorize mine, it's always fun to watch them struggle.'
Worst Feature: 'My a**. It's huge, like it should have its own zip code. There's more than just 'junk in the trunk,' I've got a whole extended cab following me around. Do you have any idea how hard it is finding pants that fit right? It's torture.'[/size]
`Personality ,,
Quirky
Flick is weird. She’s not generic in any way shape or form, and she prides herself in being different form everyone else. Her impulsiveness makes her quirks much more noticeable. Flick enjoys dancing around her room in nothing but her bra and old sweatpants, while screaming Britney Spears at the top of her lungs only to switch to Rage against the Machine with almost no notice. Odd habits and random behavior, defines who Flick has grown to be; she refuses to wear socks that match more than two days in a row and if she ever slept with her closet door open it would be the end of the world. It makes Flick look all the more sweet and innocent in the eyes of others, no one would ever guess that she could be so different.
Sociable
Flick loves people and loves being around them at all times. It’s rare that she enjoys being alone, expect when she practicing for a routine or a recital; then, there’s no talking to her. Of course, she’s not a glutton for popularity, but she adores getting to know people and making new friends. The girl’s a flirt with everyone, even when she doesn’t particularly care for the person that is finding themselves opposite her flirtatious smirk and infectious laugh. Parties are a part of Flick’s weekend adventures, though, she’s not much for the drinking until reality means nothing, but she loves the people, the atmosphere, and the energy that flows from those tiny microcosms of fun.
Generous
She’s a kind-hearted girl; although she may not always show it and many people don’t choose to take the time to find it. Flick loves helping people; she’ll give anything and everything she can to help a friend in need even when she may not have a lot to give. She’d give someone the clothes off her back if she saw someone in need of them. Community service has always been something that Flick enjoyed, but lately times hasn’t given her as many opportunities to help out as she’d like.
Quirky
Flick is weird. She’s not generic in any way shape or form, and she prides herself in being different form everyone else. Her impulsiveness makes her quirks much more noticeable. Flick enjoys dancing around her room in nothing but her bra and old sweatpants, while screaming Britney Spears at the top of her lungs only to switch to Rage against the Machine with almost no notice. Odd habits and random behavior, defines who Flick has grown to be; she refuses to wear socks that match more than two days in a row and if she ever slept with her closet door open it would be the end of the world. It makes Flick look all the more sweet and innocent in the eyes of others, no one would ever guess that she could be so different.
Sociable
Flick loves people and loves being around them at all times. It’s rare that she enjoys being alone, expect when she practicing for a routine or a recital; then, there’s no talking to her. Of course, she’s not a glutton for popularity, but she adores getting to know people and making new friends. The girl’s a flirt with everyone, even when she doesn’t particularly care for the person that is finding themselves opposite her flirtatious smirk and infectious laugh. Parties are a part of Flick’s weekend adventures, though, she’s not much for the drinking until reality means nothing, but she loves the people, the atmosphere, and the energy that flows from those tiny microcosms of fun.
Generous
She’s a kind-hearted girl; although she may not always show it and many people don’t choose to take the time to find it. Flick loves helping people; she’ll give anything and everything she can to help a friend in need even when she may not have a lot to give. She’d give someone the clothes off her back if she saw someone in need of them. Community service has always been something that Flick enjoyed, but lately times hasn’t given her as many opportunities to help out as she’d like.
Likes:
* Dance/Choreographing
* Reading
* Music
* Bright Colors
* Originality
* Protesting
* Good Morals
* Parties
* Sports: Football is her favorite
* People Watching
Dislikes:
* Math
* Spiders
* Cocky Men
* Catty Women
* Silence
* Blind Dates
* Being 'One of the crowd'
* Lightning Storms
* Callie Vanderbilt/Amanda Amos
Positive Traits:
* Originality: She prides herself on being different from everyone else, Flick can't stand being one of the crowd. It isn't who she is, it's fine for other people, but Flick rather stand out and make a stand.
* Passionate: Flick will stop at nothing to reach her goals in life and in almost everything she sets her mind to. She's driven to get where she wants in life and do it the way she wants to do it. Flick isn't looking for an easy in, she wants to do it the old fashion way, with hard work and dedication.
* Caring: There is a heart that beats within the chest of the small dancer and Flick loves to use it. She's a good friend, loyal to a fault and someone that will always be your shoulder to cry on. She loves people and can't stand to see anyone hurting.
Negative Traits:
*Strong willed: That is just Flick's way of putting a nice spin on her stubborn nature. She likes to get what she wants, on her terms, but she's not so blinded by her desires that she would hurt another to get her way. Many times, she does things out of spite and has no problem going against the rules to prove a point or to make some statement.
* Impulsive: Flick doesn't always think everything through, in fact, that is a rarity. She likes to go about things her own way and sometimes that doesn't always end well for the 21 year old. Flick gets into a good amount of trouble, often times due to her impulsive nature.
* Over Bearing: Her heart is in the right place, but sometimes, Flick can be a handful. Many times people claim that she's just too much to handle and she can become overwhelming when around certain people. She knows it and accepts it easily.
Greatest Ambition: Flick's dream is to open a world renown dance academy for children of all ages.You know, the type that kids flock to when their families tell them that they won't make it in dancing? Flick wants to give these kids a chance to live their dream.
Greatest Fear: Her greatest fear happens to be that she will be forced to leave dance behind. Flick has feared many times over the years that her father will pull her out of WU and force her to go to a school that is more 'appropriate.' [/size]
`History ,,
Felicity Marie Bronte was born October 25 at Boston Medical Center to a very exhausted and beaming mother, Elizabeth Bronte. Her father, Matthew, was merely feet away as his first daughter came running into the world; he even had the video camera ready to keep record of all the touching family moments. William, her older brother, had been only 3 at the time, but once Felicity had stopped wailing, the young boy came dashing in to peer at the tiny, squishy baby that lay swaddled in her mother’s arms. He was fascinated by the pink thing that nuzzled into the crook of her arm and beamed at the news that he was now an older brother, he had a little sister to look after now.
The Bronte family was the typical all American family, Elizabeth and Matthew had worked up from nothing; Matthew had started his own business and his wife was a teacher in the Quincy Public School system. The happy couple had very little money to their names and did their best to make ends meet with what little they had. Matthew worked day after day to make his business a success, but for years they barely broke even. Elizabeth didn’t make good money and talk of her getting a second job was discussed on a nightly basis. After years of hard work and dedication, Matthew’s business started booming and the couple finally began to get ahead. It could not have come at a better time, mere months later Elizabeth would get the news that their first child was on the way.
William came bombarding into the world and never stopped, his hyper tendencies would follow him far into adulthood. He was a personable child, a little charmer and everyone loved him; even when his antics got the young boy into monumental trouble all William did was smile sheepishly and suddenly all was forgiven. Elizabeth became pregnant three years later and the pair worried how their son would handle sharing the home with another child, but they worried for nothing. When Felicity was born William became the fawning older brother, giving the little girl whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. It was clear that the little girl had her brother wrapped around her tiny, pink finger. The brother and sister were undeniably close, almost like twins with the amount of time that they spent together, making their own language and wreaking havoc on the Bronte household.
Felicity had always been a precocious child, learning to read at a young age and surpassing children her age in their abilities. Of course, she was also a stubborn child and that usually lead to repeated trips to the principal’s office for one reason to another. To keep their daughter out of trouble, Elizabeth and Matthew sent their child to dance classes at the community center with hopes that some discipline would straighten her out. Dance class did just that, Felicity fell in love with the art of dance and began putting all her energies into her new found passion. She had been born to dance and nothing could take her mind from it. Of course, with the help of threatening parents, Felicity did well in school; if she didn’t keep her grades up there would be no dancing and no dancing meant the end of the world to her.
Over the years, dance became more and more a part of her life. Felicity stayed out of trouble for the most part, of course, she got into her fair share of fights and as always William was never far behind looking out for her. Unlike his sister, William, did not stay out of trouble and eventually he feel in with the wrong crowd. They were the stoners, the punks that barely went to class and could always be found in the parking lot of the nearby 7-11 smoking something or drinking another. They siblings stopped hanging out so much, they rarely saw each other anymore, but they were somehow still close. Felicity didn’t approve, but there wasn’t much she could do; she did warn him, but William never listened.
William got arrest at the age of 21 for assault and battery; Felicity was only 17 at the time. She had received her acceptance letter from Washington University of Arts and was thrilled to be getting a chance to dance with some of the best dance students around; then the cops came to the door. They took William away and at his court date a mere weeks before Felicity was to leave for school, they sentenced him to 7 years. She was crushed, but there was nothing she could do. She left for school in September with a heavy heart, but Felicity visits him every summer at least once. Felicity is a senior at WU now and she is thrilled to have made it this far and she is looking toward the future.
Felicity Marie Bronte was born October 25 at Boston Medical Center to a very exhausted and beaming mother, Elizabeth Bronte. Her father, Matthew, was merely feet away as his first daughter came running into the world; he even had the video camera ready to keep record of all the touching family moments. William, her older brother, had been only 3 at the time, but once Felicity had stopped wailing, the young boy came dashing in to peer at the tiny, squishy baby that lay swaddled in her mother’s arms. He was fascinated by the pink thing that nuzzled into the crook of her arm and beamed at the news that he was now an older brother, he had a little sister to look after now.
The Bronte family was the typical all American family, Elizabeth and Matthew had worked up from nothing; Matthew had started his own business and his wife was a teacher in the Quincy Public School system. The happy couple had very little money to their names and did their best to make ends meet with what little they had. Matthew worked day after day to make his business a success, but for years they barely broke even. Elizabeth didn’t make good money and talk of her getting a second job was discussed on a nightly basis. After years of hard work and dedication, Matthew’s business started booming and the couple finally began to get ahead. It could not have come at a better time, mere months later Elizabeth would get the news that their first child was on the way.
William came bombarding into the world and never stopped, his hyper tendencies would follow him far into adulthood. He was a personable child, a little charmer and everyone loved him; even when his antics got the young boy into monumental trouble all William did was smile sheepishly and suddenly all was forgiven. Elizabeth became pregnant three years later and the pair worried how their son would handle sharing the home with another child, but they worried for nothing. When Felicity was born William became the fawning older brother, giving the little girl whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. It was clear that the little girl had her brother wrapped around her tiny, pink finger. The brother and sister were undeniably close, almost like twins with the amount of time that they spent together, making their own language and wreaking havoc on the Bronte household.
Felicity had always been a precocious child, learning to read at a young age and surpassing children her age in their abilities. Of course, she was also a stubborn child and that usually lead to repeated trips to the principal’s office for one reason to another. To keep their daughter out of trouble, Elizabeth and Matthew sent their child to dance classes at the community center with hopes that some discipline would straighten her out. Dance class did just that, Felicity fell in love with the art of dance and began putting all her energies into her new found passion. She had been born to dance and nothing could take her mind from it. Of course, with the help of threatening parents, Felicity did well in school; if she didn’t keep her grades up there would be no dancing and no dancing meant the end of the world to her.
Over the years, dance became more and more a part of her life. Felicity stayed out of trouble for the most part, of course, she got into her fair share of fights and as always William was never far behind looking out for her. Unlike his sister, William, did not stay out of trouble and eventually he feel in with the wrong crowd. They were the stoners, the punks that barely went to class and could always be found in the parking lot of the nearby 7-11 smoking something or drinking another. They siblings stopped hanging out so much, they rarely saw each other anymore, but they were somehow still close. Felicity didn’t approve, but there wasn’t much she could do; she did warn him, but William never listened.
William got arrest at the age of 21 for assault and battery; Felicity was only 17 at the time. She had received her acceptance letter from Washington University of Arts and was thrilled to be getting a chance to dance with some of the best dance students around; then the cops came to the door. They took William away and at his court date a mere weeks before Felicity was to leave for school, they sentenced him to 7 years. She was crushed, but there was nothing she could do. She left for school in September with a heavy heart, but Felicity visits him every summer at least once. Felicity is a senior at WU now and she is thrilled to have made it this far and she is looking toward the future.
Best Memory:
She had finally convinced him. Washington University was suddenly attainable, instead of a distant dream to Flick. Her father hadn’t truly approved of the idea of going to school for dance, but that didn’t stop Flick from trying to change his mind. The open house had already began and Flick could hardly keep herself quiet, the campus was beautiful and the people seemed to be just as interested in dance as she was. She wouldn’t be crazy here, they were all dedicated. Her father seemed to be taking an avid interest in the campus, her mother had already fallen in love with the history of the area and the devotion of the staff. Question after question spilled from his lips, everything from the average class size to the menu selection on a given day; Flick almost died when he began grilling the tour guide about the living situations. She didn’t dare stop him, the more questions he asked, the more accepting he would be that his daughter had chosen the right school.
Each new stop on campus made Flick love the school even more, everything from the art lining the hallways to the crunch of leaves that lined the walkways. It felt like her home away from home already and her heart soared at the mention of staying here permanently. The tour lasted most of the afternoon, ending with a look at the academic buildings and her father suddenly changed completely. The classes were set up great, made for smaller classes and each equipped with good equipment for both teachers and students. As the tour came to a close, her mother and Flick stood there expectantly out in the quad gazing at her father. He looked sour for a moment, but a wide smile crossed his lips as he pulled his daughter to him, “I like it. You’ll do well here, peach.”
It was all she needed, dad’s approval. Now all she needed to do was get accepted…
Worst Memory:
{I did it like an RP, hope it's alright}
The envelope sat on her pillow. Flick had bombed into her room like a bat out of hell when her mother had mentioned what had shown up in the mail. Her letter from Washington University. She left the door wide open and her book bag fell to the floor with a thud, Flick stared at the white envelope with panic in her eyes. What if it was rejection? What if she didn’t get in? Where would she go? What would she do? Her hands began to shake and her stomach knotted itself into one nauseous clump of worry. There were no butterflies in her stomach; they were hawks, clawing at her insides desperate for escape. She couldn’t open it. There was no way she could handle the rejection, Flick simply stood there, watching it as if the letter would come flying at her in an attempt to kill her.
”Just open it, William came up behind with an amused look on his face. One arm wrapped around her neck, pulling her into a head lock. “Let me see your ticket out of here,” the smile in his voice was comforting. Flick struggled against his hold, grunting some inaudible response before her brother released her. A deep breath and hesitant steps across the carpeted floor and she held the envelope in her shaking hands. She couldn’t delay it much longer; the nudge in the small of her back forced her fingers to find their way to the seal, ripping it easily. Grey eyes scanned the page quickly, her breathing stopped as the words flew off the page: Congratulations. You’ve been accepted…. The rest of it didn’t matter. Flick had made it. A shrill, excited yelp escaped her lips as she spun around to the open arms of her brother. “I made it! I’m in!” the words flew from her mouth in one mass of high pitched squealing. William’s arms crushed her against him in a massive bear hug, words of congratulations humming in her ear.
It should have been the best day of her life.
A sharp knock at the door, pulled Flick from her excited stupor. William pulled himself from her embrace and with a nervous look went to answer the door. Flick was right on his heels, stopping only to peer through the living room window at the bottom of the stairs. There was a cop car in the driveway. A confused look crossed her face as she went to the front door where her brother and the cop spoke formally. William looked scared, nodding and wiping nervous tears from his dark eyes. “What’s going on?” Flick asked him urgently, but she got no response.
“William Bronte, you are under arrest for assault and battery,” the words rang like bells from the cops lips. Her brother was put in handcuffs and taken away with Flick hugging herself in the driveway, watching helplessly as the car drove away….
[/size]
`Writing Skill ,,
From a Twilight RPG where I am an admin
The halls of Rocca Vecchia were silent, no laughter could be heard echoing from the bar and no orders were shouted from within the walls of the living room; it was as if she was alone, standing in nothingness and surrounded by darkness. Chelsea gazed down the empty hallway; it wasn’t often that she heard the castle so quiet; it was almost a welcome emptiness the lack of any form of contact. Forever stuck in the body of a twenty year old, she looked as if she had stepped right off the runway tonight, clothed in a black pinstripe pants and blood red heels covering her pale toes. There were no missions tonight, no orders from the brothers to keep her busy through the long hours of the sleepless night; it was up to Chelsea to keep her thoughts from drifting to the ever lurking darkness that clawed at the edge of her mind, threatening to pull her from the reality she chose to bury herself in.
The tiny vampire stood like a statue, scarlet eyes scanning the marble floors for any imperfections. There were none. Chelsea spun on her heel as if something called to her, heels clicked on the marble as she sauntered down the hallway. Shoulder-length blonde curls hung loosely around her face, bouncing as she pushed open the heavy wooden doors that kept the rest of the world at bay. There was no need to worry about anyone catching her this time of night; the rest of Volterra would be fast asleep, unaware of the killer that would take advantage of the dream filled bliss. Rocca Vecchia wasn’t a tourist attraction, most of the locals steered clear of the castle, not daring disturb whatever lurked within the think stone walls. Italians were so very superstitious, a few simple rumors, tales of torture and missing citizens had them all talking about the strange haunted castle that had been abandoned for hundreds of years; it was exactly what the brothers had been hoping for.
An icy wind licked at pale cheeks, but the rosy red of cold never rose to the surface of Chelsea’s eternally bloodless skin. The vampire floated down to the streets of Volterra, a murderous goddess creeping silently through the village of the people she looked over. She had watched the city change over the years, from the tiny little village to the productive city it was today, but the humans were all the same; wary of the beautiful, pale men and women who mingled among them and yet, intrigued by them, enchanted by the very beauty they were so fearful of. Chelsea’s steps were silent as she made her way across the cobblestone river that separated her from her destination, the ever alluring Cathedral of Volterra.
Chelsea climbed the stone steps with a slow waltz, pausing just before the door, gazing wistfully at the elaborate patterns that welcomed all sinners. The words so inviting, so optimistic: Benvenuti tutti i peccatori, per ogni santo ha un pa.ssato e ogni peccatore ha un futuro. Welcome all sinners, for every saint has a past and every sinner has a future. Chelsea smiled wickedly, before pushing the heavy door open with ease, crossing the holy threshold without a second thought. The evil little demon gazed at the alter with disdain, the elaborate décor was nothing more than show to the vampire now; the once revered holiness of it all meant nothing now. Taking an easy step forward, Chelsea strolled straight to the front, slipping gracefully into the cushioned wooden pew. This was not God’s house, he did not look down upon the patrons now, the lonely vagabonds that hung their heads and prayed for salvation.
Her blonde head would bow in mock reverence, pale hands folding as if in prayer, but a sarcastic smirk tugged at the corner of ruby lips as she prayed. “Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespa.sses,” scarlet eyes blazed as she looked upon the crucifix with hatred. God cared nothing for the mortals he sent upon this land, he left them, left them for dead in the cruelest way possible.
[/size][/center]From a Twilight RPG where I am an admin
The halls of Rocca Vecchia were silent, no laughter could be heard echoing from the bar and no orders were shouted from within the walls of the living room; it was as if she was alone, standing in nothingness and surrounded by darkness. Chelsea gazed down the empty hallway; it wasn’t often that she heard the castle so quiet; it was almost a welcome emptiness the lack of any form of contact. Forever stuck in the body of a twenty year old, she looked as if she had stepped right off the runway tonight, clothed in a black pinstripe pants and blood red heels covering her pale toes. There were no missions tonight, no orders from the brothers to keep her busy through the long hours of the sleepless night; it was up to Chelsea to keep her thoughts from drifting to the ever lurking darkness that clawed at the edge of her mind, threatening to pull her from the reality she chose to bury herself in.
The tiny vampire stood like a statue, scarlet eyes scanning the marble floors for any imperfections. There were none. Chelsea spun on her heel as if something called to her, heels clicked on the marble as she sauntered down the hallway. Shoulder-length blonde curls hung loosely around her face, bouncing as she pushed open the heavy wooden doors that kept the rest of the world at bay. There was no need to worry about anyone catching her this time of night; the rest of Volterra would be fast asleep, unaware of the killer that would take advantage of the dream filled bliss. Rocca Vecchia wasn’t a tourist attraction, most of the locals steered clear of the castle, not daring disturb whatever lurked within the think stone walls. Italians were so very superstitious, a few simple rumors, tales of torture and missing citizens had them all talking about the strange haunted castle that had been abandoned for hundreds of years; it was exactly what the brothers had been hoping for.
An icy wind licked at pale cheeks, but the rosy red of cold never rose to the surface of Chelsea’s eternally bloodless skin. The vampire floated down to the streets of Volterra, a murderous goddess creeping silently through the village of the people she looked over. She had watched the city change over the years, from the tiny little village to the productive city it was today, but the humans were all the same; wary of the beautiful, pale men and women who mingled among them and yet, intrigued by them, enchanted by the very beauty they were so fearful of. Chelsea’s steps were silent as she made her way across the cobblestone river that separated her from her destination, the ever alluring Cathedral of Volterra.
Chelsea climbed the stone steps with a slow waltz, pausing just before the door, gazing wistfully at the elaborate patterns that welcomed all sinners. The words so inviting, so optimistic: Benvenuti tutti i peccatori, per ogni santo ha un pa.ssato e ogni peccatore ha un futuro. Welcome all sinners, for every saint has a past and every sinner has a future. Chelsea smiled wickedly, before pushing the heavy door open with ease, crossing the holy threshold without a second thought. The evil little demon gazed at the alter with disdain, the elaborate décor was nothing more than show to the vampire now; the once revered holiness of it all meant nothing now. Taking an easy step forward, Chelsea strolled straight to the front, slipping gracefully into the cushioned wooden pew. This was not God’s house, he did not look down upon the patrons now, the lonely vagabonds that hung their heads and prayed for salvation.
Her blonde head would bow in mock reverence, pale hands folding as if in prayer, but a sarcastic smirk tugged at the corner of ruby lips as she prayed. “Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespa.sses,” scarlet eyes blazed as she looked upon the crucifix with hatred. God cared nothing for the mortals he sent upon this land, he left them, left them for dead in the cruelest way possible.
`Behind The Character ,,
Name: Rachel
Age: 19
Role-playing experience: Over a year now, I've been admin on several sites.
How you found us: proboard support
[/size][/blockquote]