Post by ANITA GRACELAND on Dec 8, 2011 20:42:43 GMT -5
| [atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, line-height:120%;][atrb=style, width:350px; padding:20px; background:#909090; border-left: 40px solid #505050;] Anita "Lee" Graceland "Oh, he said. He Can't love me." THE BASICS, |
Full Name:
Anita Lee Graceland
Nickname:
Ann
Age:
Twenty Three
Face Claim:
Keira Knightley
A LITTLE DEEPER,
Alliance:
Straggler
Personality:
Anita is a firecracker to say the least. She has many sides to her personality and none of them are "fake". Although she is a rainbow of emotions at any point of time, Anita has learned that it's best to keep a poker face about it all, but sometimes she just can't, and her emotions get the best of her. The two extremes of Ann are Angry and Happy.
Angry Anita can be scary. When provoked she will get into any fight with any one without a second thought towards its consequences. Ann can be openly angry, and quietly sadistic. When she is silent, you know something is not quite right. Run away from angry Anita.
Happy Anita is the most pleasant person in the world to be around. She's the perfect friend, and in the moment, the most trustworthy. She's bubbly and kind and full of life!
After these two Anita's have been discovered there is also the Anita the hides behind them. The addict Anita. Through her life she's been addicted to many things. Eating, or a lack there of, Cigarette's, and the color Black being a few of them. No matter what it is, if it's something you can be addicted to Ann is, for at least a little while.
Likes:
People, Conversation, The Men, Horses, Scandal
Dislikes:
The "Click-y" girls, Threats, Anyone who gets in her way, Fake things/people, Secrets she doesn't know about.
Strengths:
Physicality, Smooth Talk, Ability to "Survive", Gossip, Intensity
Weaknesses:
Her appetite, The "right" guy, Her eyes, Nicotine, Timing
ON THE OUTSIDE,
[/size]Appearance:
Anita is a slender yet tall, willowy girl. She stands at about 5'8" and weighs, on average, 125lbs. Ann prides herself in exercise only because she loves to eat. Her weight has never been much over the norm for her height, although she was always the tallest in her class.
As a child, Ann always had longer hair that grew down a little past her shoulders. At the age of seventeen, she cut it all off. A clear sign of teenage rebellion and a starting new life, Ann chooses to style her hair shorter but as the years have passed, it may occasionally reach shoulder length again. It's color has always been that of a dark brown with natural lighter highlights, and this will never change. Ann doesn't like fake things, especially not hair.
Ann has beautiful brown "doe" eyes to match her mother. As a child her teacher's would always tell her that she had eyes that could show deep down to the core of her being. For this reason alone Ann doesn't always think of her eyes as being wonderful or beautiful; she has too many secrets to hide for her eyes to be giving everything away so freely.
THE PAST,
History:
Anita was born in the wonderful concrete jungle of New York and has been surviving there ever since. As a young girl she lived in the Bronx with her struggling, single mother and her older sister. Ann’s father was never around, he left when she was two and her sister was seven. Her mother struggled with alcohol and a job, she was hardly around and coherent at the same time. This seemed to harden her slightly over the years that lead up to her teenage life. It made her stronger and more mature.
By the age of fourteen Anita had her own job bussing tables at a local café. This job would be the only life she had outside of school and the only place she was aloud to shine. Her sister had left home when Ann was sixteen, leaving the young woman to care for her mother by herself. Ann’s mother didn’t care much for her daughters anymore, loathing them for existing more then ever. By the age of seventeen, Ann had achieved a higher placement in the café and was on her way to college. She finally had that much needed “falling out” with her mother. She left and lived by herself in an apartment closer to the cafe. The unhappy woman must still be living in New York, existing only on welfare and liquor.
By the time Anita turned into an “adult” she had a pretty strong footing and an equally hard outlook on life. She is prepared for anything life has to throw at her.
Family?:
Leah- Older sister
Rebecca- Mother
Tess- Her Manager/Adopted mother
THE ROLEPLAYER,
Name: Nala
Age: High School
RP Experience: Meh, 2 1/2 years... but that's all horses.
Other Characters: Leave blank if you don't have any
How You Found Us: TMC
Sample:
Age: High School
RP Experience: Meh, 2 1/2 years... but that's all horses.
Other Characters: Leave blank if you don't have any
How You Found Us: TMC
Sample:
A small sliver of noon-day light slipped through the dark drapes hanging before a small window, illuminating the deep shadows and swarming the room that hated to see the light of day. Silence was always eminent here, asides from the dripping sink and clicking radiator. With a flick, a single flame lit the face of a woman as a cigarette hung numbly from her lips. She took her time, lighting it well before returning the flame to its prison cell. Her knees were held up and close to her chest as she breathed the sweet addiction deep into her lungs, the end of the cancer stick lighting orange and wild as the life was sucked out of it. How ironic considering the life was also being sucked from the girl with each breath.
She took her time climbing from the small bed, then stumbling over the plethora of things that littered the floor, and making her way to the center of the small apartment room where a single strand hung from a single dim light bulb. One pull wasn’t enough to convince the troublesome thing to ignite and she swore at it; two pulls and she was blinded by the artificial light that tore down her artificial darkness. She swore again stumbling to the mirror above the sink.
She was thin; her newest obsession that had become necessity as her finances drained and the marketing crisis continued on. Her cheek bones were set high in her pixie like face, the shadows below them becoming slightly less and less attractive as the days went by. Her slender hands ran rapidly through her multi-tinted brown hair before erasing the dark makeup circles beneath her eyes with the tainted water from the facet.
The cigarette went out as she rummaged through her chaotic drawers for that one shirt, black with red highlights. An explosion of colors came from everywhere as she migrated from drawer to drawer, then down to the cluttered floor, even beneath her bed. The words were flowing freely from her tempered mouth as she searched to no end for the tank shirt. This was one of the things that would only happen when her temper got the best of her. Finding a pair of black jeans she slipped them over her legs moving back towards the bathroom swearing all the way. A fist bashed at the mirror as she passed, cracking all four knuckles and sending her stumbling to the floor, where she pounded another fist into the tile. She screamed softly, if that could at all be achieved, crawling to the edge of the tub that sat close to the sink. Sitting on the edge she wiped the tears away from her face with throbbing fingers. She was a mess today, had been for at least a week now, and all because of that boy. Sure Anita wasn’t living like a queen, but she knew how to survive without him barging in and destroying her moods.
Anita stood over the sink, washing her entire face before smearing it with more makeup. As she started with the black eyeliner, she reflected their meeting distastefully in her head. He had come into her only job, looking all mysterious and interesting. He had sat in the area she was supposed to be serving. And when she had tried to be nice and receive a name of some kind, he persisted to be rude, turning her already hot mood sour. Shrugging it off she returned to the drawers, searching for the shirt, finding it only when her temper cooled off.
Slipping it over her shoulders she arranged it on her thin frame to her liking and slipped the black, New York style trench coat over it. The café was just down the street and she had plenty of time to get there, but still the haunting thought of the rude yet intriguing stranger clung to her mind. She wanted to get there early, ask the other girls if he had been in. She wanted to see him again; if not serve him herself she wanted him to at least come so she could feast her eyes upon him. This wasn’t the first time her mind had been plagued with someone or something. Addictions were like the air she breathed, she wouldn’t be alive without them. Her hand was bruised and shook slightly as she turned the handle on the door. She looked back only once, turning off the single light then continuing through the door, closing off her home gently behind her and walking briskly through the streets to work. Would this be the day her addiction killed her, or would this addiction be of good nature? Is there an addiction of good nature? A dim cigarette hung numbly from her lips as she made her way.
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