Post by nikki on Nov 11, 2006 22:01:00 GMT -5
About You//
Name: Nikki
Age: 14
Gender: Ohh, lemme check.
Mwaha. Just kidding. I'ma chica.
How many hours do you spend online daily? Yeahhh...A lot?
Your Character//
Name: Suzanna Antoinette Arquett
But if you wanna live, Zanna or Zannie.
Age: 18
Gender: Fe-Male
Race: Caucasian
Look-a-Like: Nada.
Personality: Zanna is a girl with a very bubbly personality. She loves meeting new people and is almost always hyper, spastic, or random. She's very outgoing and has very few "off days," as she calls them, which are the days when she's...well, not so nice. Sometimes she enjoys being the center of attention, but usually just likes to be with one or two people, talking about extremely random things.
Quite an awesome girl, really.
A bit quirky...but still awesome.
Appearance: Zanna is...Zanna...well, she has short brown hair--so dark it's almost black. Her eyes are some plain brown, but she sometimes likes to wear colored contacts of the gray family.
Yep. Gray. They're pretty awesome--they make her look almost ghostly.
She's around 5'7" tall, a rather average height. Not too tall, not too short. And she's happy with it, so that's always nice.
Zanna is a pretty thin girl, but not so thin as to be gross, or nasty. Not...Nicole Richie-ish, if you must compare it to a celebrity.
Ohh, and you'll never find her wearing something 'normal'.
Background: Her mother and father don't like her much--she doesn't fit the standard of perfection displayed in so many teenage girls these days. Her mother still seems as though she wishes she'd never had her, but, luckily for Zanna's mum, she had a second daughter.
A 'perfect' daughter, if you will.
She fit the standard for everything--she was practically a genius.
Only 12 IQ points away from legally being considered one.
Sample of Role Playing: Dark brown hair cascaded down the back of a blue shirt. The blue shirt clung to a small, thin-looking girl that sat on the shabby bed she called her own. As to be expected, her amber colored eyes were filled with tears. They almost always were. It wasn’t that long ago she’d been brought here. Two weeks, and four days to be exact. Her parents died in that cliché way—in a car accident. Her sister died with them. They’d been on their way to pick her up from a friend’s house and had been hit by a (cliché again) drunk driver speeding at nearly 100 mph.
Suddenly, a sound buzzed into the room, and Mara jumped nearly a foot off of her bed. Slightly embarrassed, she realized it was only the old alarm clock she’d brought along with her. She was like that nowadays; scared by everything that happened suddenly. That was how she’d found out about her family, and that had scared her and scarred her more than anything else. Mara shook her head. She didn’t know why she was here. Well, actually she did, but she knew this was where she’d spend the next three years until she turned eighteen. Then she could move out and live on her own.
Yes, Mara was fifteen. That was why she knew she was never going to get adopted. Every person that came in wanted a little one or two year old, not a fully hormonal teenager. She had annoyed even her parents sometimes, when they were alive, so why would any person in their right mind go out and willingly adopt a teenager? The answer? They wouldn’t. Mara had learned this in less than four days at the orphanage. She’d watch the adults come in, pass by her like she didn’t exist, and go straight to the younger children.
Sometimes, Mara just wished she didn’t exist. She wished she’d have died with the rest of her family. At least she’d be with them, up in heaven, and not ignored by all the people in the whole orphanage. Even the people her age had yet to talk to her. Maybe it was that she hadn’t changed her clothes in the two weeks and four days she’d been here, and she smelled like the dumpster outside of McDonald’s. Or maybe it was the fact that she’d only slept about two hours in the two weeks and four days, and so now she had dark circles under her eyes and she looked like a raccoon.
Maybe it was just because she never tried to talk to them, or that she averted her eyes anytime she caught someone’s gaze. Well, no matter what it was, Mara was another one of those loner orphans that did nothing but cry.
[/color][/size]Name: Nikki
Age: 14
Gender: Ohh, lemme check.
Mwaha. Just kidding. I'ma chica.
How many hours do you spend online daily? Yeahhh...A lot?
Your Character//
Name: Suzanna Antoinette Arquett
But if you wanna live, Zanna or Zannie.
Age: 18
Gender: Fe-Male
Race: Caucasian
Look-a-Like: Nada.
Personality: Zanna is a girl with a very bubbly personality. She loves meeting new people and is almost always hyper, spastic, or random. She's very outgoing and has very few "off days," as she calls them, which are the days when she's...well, not so nice. Sometimes she enjoys being the center of attention, but usually just likes to be with one or two people, talking about extremely random things.
Quite an awesome girl, really.
A bit quirky...but still awesome.
Appearance: Zanna is...Zanna...well, she has short brown hair--so dark it's almost black. Her eyes are some plain brown, but she sometimes likes to wear colored contacts of the gray family.
Yep. Gray. They're pretty awesome--they make her look almost ghostly.
She's around 5'7" tall, a rather average height. Not too tall, not too short. And she's happy with it, so that's always nice.
Zanna is a pretty thin girl, but not so thin as to be gross, or nasty. Not...Nicole Richie-ish, if you must compare it to a celebrity.
Ohh, and you'll never find her wearing something 'normal'.
Background: Her mother and father don't like her much--she doesn't fit the standard of perfection displayed in so many teenage girls these days. Her mother still seems as though she wishes she'd never had her, but, luckily for Zanna's mum, she had a second daughter.
A 'perfect' daughter, if you will.
She fit the standard for everything--she was practically a genius.
Only 12 IQ points away from legally being considered one.
Sample of Role Playing: Dark brown hair cascaded down the back of a blue shirt. The blue shirt clung to a small, thin-looking girl that sat on the shabby bed she called her own. As to be expected, her amber colored eyes were filled with tears. They almost always were. It wasn’t that long ago she’d been brought here. Two weeks, and four days to be exact. Her parents died in that cliché way—in a car accident. Her sister died with them. They’d been on their way to pick her up from a friend’s house and had been hit by a (cliché again) drunk driver speeding at nearly 100 mph.
Suddenly, a sound buzzed into the room, and Mara jumped nearly a foot off of her bed. Slightly embarrassed, she realized it was only the old alarm clock she’d brought along with her. She was like that nowadays; scared by everything that happened suddenly. That was how she’d found out about her family, and that had scared her and scarred her more than anything else. Mara shook her head. She didn’t know why she was here. Well, actually she did, but she knew this was where she’d spend the next three years until she turned eighteen. Then she could move out and live on her own.
Yes, Mara was fifteen. That was why she knew she was never going to get adopted. Every person that came in wanted a little one or two year old, not a fully hormonal teenager. She had annoyed even her parents sometimes, when they were alive, so why would any person in their right mind go out and willingly adopt a teenager? The answer? They wouldn’t. Mara had learned this in less than four days at the orphanage. She’d watch the adults come in, pass by her like she didn’t exist, and go straight to the younger children.
Sometimes, Mara just wished she didn’t exist. She wished she’d have died with the rest of her family. At least she’d be with them, up in heaven, and not ignored by all the people in the whole orphanage. Even the people her age had yet to talk to her. Maybe it was that she hadn’t changed her clothes in the two weeks and four days she’d been here, and she smelled like the dumpster outside of McDonald’s. Or maybe it was the fact that she’d only slept about two hours in the two weeks and four days, and so now she had dark circles under her eyes and she looked like a raccoon.
Maybe it was just because she never tried to talk to them, or that she averted her eyes anytime she caught someone’s gaze. Well, no matter what it was, Mara was another one of those loner orphans that did nothing but cry.
