Post by jen on Dec 7, 2008 15:43:51 GMT -5
Name: Jen, You with the Face, That person, Meanieface, Hood, Tom, Crash, Sparky, -coughs- Emoboxers. Whatever the hell you wanna call me, babeh.
Age: Physically: Sixteen; Mentally: Four.
Experience: Eh. Little here, little there. I've sort of lost count on how long.
How you found us: Hm. Hateful Youtube videos, posting on boards, nagging friends. xD
Role play Sample:
When the knob wouldn’t twist anymore, she mumbled quietly. Hand clutching the shower handle, turning the point to the red dash mark, designating hot water. But the symbol lied to her, offering only what could be considered luke-warm water in a spray from the stainless steel tube above.
She’d been in there for a while. Predicting it was probably past twelve and nearing one am in the morning. Darkness had long since settled and her decision to only turn on the dying light bulbs above the bathroom mirror left a weak, insubstantial excuse for light. She was alright with that, she didn’t mind the darkness. It just bothered her that the night hadn’t brought a sense of fatigue or sleepiness that it brought to everybody else; the flutter of eyes as they fought drowsiness at ten or eleven pm; not her preferred time of nine. By that time stamp, the whole house was quiet and eerily dead feeling.
Rather than curl up under the covers of her bed. Stare through the blinding shadows at the opposite wall for hours, or watch the digital clock slowly tick time away from her life. She stood in the tan shower-bath her small little house had. The one that seemed to have very little hot water and an ever wavering level of water pressure; every shower was a gamble on what you were going to get. She’d have to get it fixed.
The house wasn’t shabby at all. Actually, she was mildly surprised she’d gotten it for as little as she did. It was more than enough for her, even had a little garage for her to part her automobile of choice and collect junk in, like any other good American. A small little grey house with black shutters on a tiny little road in a friendly little neighborhood; that was the thing about everything and that place. Everything was tiny and itsy bitsy and cute. Even the mailboxes posted diligently at the end of every rectangular, paved driveway. The ones that stood next to one or two silver trash cans on Friday Mornings were adorable. And while ‘Charming’ and ‘Sweet’ were words that she rarely used, she would admit that the small-scale neighborhood would not be seen on the news for unsolved murders anytime soon. The crime watch of the area kept tabs on the friendly, local raccoons as opposed to shady cars that rolled the streets.
The steam she had built up in the bathroom was slowly dying off as the heat did. This was becoming a daily occurrence. Replacing sleep with a long shower, cold or hot. She moved under the pound spray, allowing water to rush down her back continuously. Her forehead pressed against the cool tile and she closed her green-gray eyes, willing herself to shut off the water.
But for some reason, she felt safe in the bathroom. For a moment, the world was shut off and couldn’t get into the bathroom. It was her and her reflection for a bit, nobody to judge her or give her ‘advice’ on how to do things. It was her opinion and her opinion only.
Yet, she never needed to take shelter in the smallest room of the house previously. She never needed to hide in bath and hope to evade the trials and tribulations of life outside the bathroom door. Life was different back then.
Skepticism filled her mind when that thought floated to the surface. She sounded like some hopeless romantics from a chick-flick from a movie, one of those ones that brought tears to your eyes and rattled your rib cage with sobs. The idea sickened her to have her heartstrings chose her actions; To have her motivation be altered and changed by the idea of finding true love and losing it to her own ego and pride. And yet, there she stood under a consistent fall of warm water in the middle of the night another long, dreary night.
But she had loved, although she never could wrap her mind around the idea; never really accepted that she was so in sync with another being. Her personality didn’t seem to allow such a hypothesis. In fact, if she was anymore laid-back, she’d probably be dead. So calm, so relaxed and slow. Sloth-like in her actions with the exception of those compulsive work-out moments. Like she used all her energy for those two hour streaks of break-less weight lifting, running, and cardio training, then simply wafted through the rest of the day. Just watched the world go by, let it spin on its axis and go through the days.
Yet it’d been done. Somehow, her heart had been stolen and her instincts and determination went with it. Flushed down the drain with the arrival of some cute little blonde; A gorgeous, young woman with a bubbly personality. Cheery and an energy that never seemed to vanish. And her smile. She smiled all the time. It was foolproof. Just a big grin that caused one to grow on your own face. So infectious, like a yawn. Her love was intoxicating, something new and different. Perhaps somewhat twisted because she was engaged to a man. But, she broke it off. She let the blonde girl go. Let her go because her hypocritical and redundant reason. Her inability to forgive herself.
She pressed a hand to the tile, the first step in getting out of the shower. Her eyes opened to watch her knuckles bend and fold as her fingers clenched up. The cold tile made the water seem warmer and therefore more inviting. She leaned back again, eyes shutting as the water splashed onto her face. Pulling back out of the spray, she blinked the excess water away. Hesitating before grasping the knob and reluctantly shutting off the water source. Being thrown into silence once again. She stood in the bath, drip-drying for a moment as she thought. Letting out a breath, she tore a towel off the shower-curtain rod and wrapped it around her body. Taking the time to dry and brush out her long, black hair and study her reflection. Finally retiring to bed for another long, sleepless night.
He said: You've Got Mail.
There. Bitches.
Age: Physically: Sixteen; Mentally: Four.
Experience: Eh. Little here, little there. I've sort of lost count on how long.
How you found us: Hm. Hateful Youtube videos, posting on boards, nagging friends. xD
Role play Sample:
When the knob wouldn’t twist anymore, she mumbled quietly. Hand clutching the shower handle, turning the point to the red dash mark, designating hot water. But the symbol lied to her, offering only what could be considered luke-warm water in a spray from the stainless steel tube above.
She’d been in there for a while. Predicting it was probably past twelve and nearing one am in the morning. Darkness had long since settled and her decision to only turn on the dying light bulbs above the bathroom mirror left a weak, insubstantial excuse for light. She was alright with that, she didn’t mind the darkness. It just bothered her that the night hadn’t brought a sense of fatigue or sleepiness that it brought to everybody else; the flutter of eyes as they fought drowsiness at ten or eleven pm; not her preferred time of nine. By that time stamp, the whole house was quiet and eerily dead feeling.
Rather than curl up under the covers of her bed. Stare through the blinding shadows at the opposite wall for hours, or watch the digital clock slowly tick time away from her life. She stood in the tan shower-bath her small little house had. The one that seemed to have very little hot water and an ever wavering level of water pressure; every shower was a gamble on what you were going to get. She’d have to get it fixed.
The house wasn’t shabby at all. Actually, she was mildly surprised she’d gotten it for as little as she did. It was more than enough for her, even had a little garage for her to part her automobile of choice and collect junk in, like any other good American. A small little grey house with black shutters on a tiny little road in a friendly little neighborhood; that was the thing about everything and that place. Everything was tiny and itsy bitsy and cute. Even the mailboxes posted diligently at the end of every rectangular, paved driveway. The ones that stood next to one or two silver trash cans on Friday Mornings were adorable. And while ‘Charming’ and ‘Sweet’ were words that she rarely used, she would admit that the small-scale neighborhood would not be seen on the news for unsolved murders anytime soon. The crime watch of the area kept tabs on the friendly, local raccoons as opposed to shady cars that rolled the streets.
The steam she had built up in the bathroom was slowly dying off as the heat did. This was becoming a daily occurrence. Replacing sleep with a long shower, cold or hot. She moved under the pound spray, allowing water to rush down her back continuously. Her forehead pressed against the cool tile and she closed her green-gray eyes, willing herself to shut off the water.
But for some reason, she felt safe in the bathroom. For a moment, the world was shut off and couldn’t get into the bathroom. It was her and her reflection for a bit, nobody to judge her or give her ‘advice’ on how to do things. It was her opinion and her opinion only.
Yet, she never needed to take shelter in the smallest room of the house previously. She never needed to hide in bath and hope to evade the trials and tribulations of life outside the bathroom door. Life was different back then.
Skepticism filled her mind when that thought floated to the surface. She sounded like some hopeless romantics from a chick-flick from a movie, one of those ones that brought tears to your eyes and rattled your rib cage with sobs. The idea sickened her to have her heartstrings chose her actions; To have her motivation be altered and changed by the idea of finding true love and losing it to her own ego and pride. And yet, there she stood under a consistent fall of warm water in the middle of the night another long, dreary night.
But she had loved, although she never could wrap her mind around the idea; never really accepted that she was so in sync with another being. Her personality didn’t seem to allow such a hypothesis. In fact, if she was anymore laid-back, she’d probably be dead. So calm, so relaxed and slow. Sloth-like in her actions with the exception of those compulsive work-out moments. Like she used all her energy for those two hour streaks of break-less weight lifting, running, and cardio training, then simply wafted through the rest of the day. Just watched the world go by, let it spin on its axis and go through the days.
Yet it’d been done. Somehow, her heart had been stolen and her instincts and determination went with it. Flushed down the drain with the arrival of some cute little blonde; A gorgeous, young woman with a bubbly personality. Cheery and an energy that never seemed to vanish. And her smile. She smiled all the time. It was foolproof. Just a big grin that caused one to grow on your own face. So infectious, like a yawn. Her love was intoxicating, something new and different. Perhaps somewhat twisted because she was engaged to a man. But, she broke it off. She let the blonde girl go. Let her go because her hypocritical and redundant reason. Her inability to forgive herself.
She pressed a hand to the tile, the first step in getting out of the shower. Her eyes opened to watch her knuckles bend and fold as her fingers clenched up. The cold tile made the water seem warmer and therefore more inviting. She leaned back again, eyes shutting as the water splashed onto her face. Pulling back out of the spray, she blinked the excess water away. Hesitating before grasping the knob and reluctantly shutting off the water source. Being thrown into silence once again. She stood in the bath, drip-drying for a moment as she thought. Letting out a breath, she tore a towel off the shower-curtain rod and wrapped it around her body. Taking the time to dry and brush out her long, black hair and study her reflection. Finally retiring to bed for another long, sleepless night.
He said: You've Got Mail.
There. Bitches.
Since Im a mod i think I'm allowed to accept you so biatch you're accepted. ACCEPTED! 
