Post by Stephine Fitzhugh on Mar 18, 2008 17:53:24 GMT -5
OOC;
Name; Isabella (Bah. Just call me Izzy. Make it easy on the both of us.)
Age; n/a
Experience; Three or four years, lost count
Your Character;
The Basics;
Name; Stephine Lynn Fitzhugh
Age; 18
Grade; 12
School; Forks High School
Vampire or Werewolf?; "What the hell kind of question is that?"
Canon; n/a
Pictures;
Dig a Little Deeper;
Personality;
Stephine, a smart, sarcastic seventeen year old with a spark of her own. Some say the accident did something to her, but she's content all the same. She has an unmistakable grin that is constantly placed on her lips, laughing at something someone else would find stupid. That was who she was. Someone who grasped life and held on tight, never wanting to let go. She knew how precious life was now, and held on dearly.
She tends to be over considerate at times, making sure she always told everyone how she felt about them, though not going to deep into her mind. She made sure, if they died, that they would know exactly what she thought, nothing more, nothing less.
She never drank anymore besides the occasional glass of champaign at a wedding, or wine at he mothers birthday, but never for pleasure after that night. She was quite nice once you got to know her, but she was a hard shell to crack when you first meet her. She can be conservative, but around the people she's closest to, she can't help but be wild and outgoing, trying to make everyone smile.
With that note, she can be trusted with alot of things. She has many untold secrets of those who she left back in Michigan, never to be told or spoken of for her life. But then again, she expects those who she tells her secrets, to keep them just as sacred as she did. She wouldn't tell if you told, at least, she hasn't in the past, it doesn't mean she won't, though.
Appearance;
Standing at five two, Stephine is a bit short for seventeen, and she will make it a point one way or another. Vertically challenged, she would call it. She had rather short hair, layered and thinned on the sides, leaving her free to pull it outward and spike it as she pleased, light brown extentions at the sides, and bangs, whether she wanted them parted to the side or to cover her eyes directly in a curtain of darkness.
Her eyes, how ever, were a different story. They had an odd shape indeed, like an almond, but wider, and definitely wiser. Not green or brown, honey or gold, but a mixture. Hazel? Yes, but a different one at that. Her eyes varied from day to day, but her favorite was when honey suckle overcame around her pupal, twisting into a mass of chocolate brown, leaving gold flecks, and then into a strange mossy green that you saw, growing on a tree out deep in the forest where it lie undisturbed by human presence.
She had plush lips, a medium pink that had a nice curve on top, normally slightly parted as she thought, gazing out the window of a classroom or doing her hair or make-up. Ah, she was one for make-up. Not the normal, of course. Bright greens or pinks would line her eyes in a over dramatic sharp point, enhancing the intensity of her eyes.
She normally wore something a bit out of the normal, strait legged jeans with long, pink and white skirts over it, or a single fuzzy legging over her jeans. Always jeans.
On her right hip, however, is a memorial of her best friend Vincent Ocelnik, a pair of paying hands and his name, date of birth and date of death.
Celebrity PB; Sarah Cowlin
History;
A witty, sarcastic young girl in the attempt to escape what she doesn't want to face. Though it had been years after the accident, Stephine still blames herself for all that happened. Twisted metal and thick, sticky blood is a painful flash of memory that constantly eats at her. That was the reason she had to leave. Leave everyone behind, her friends, her family, his family, and most of all, his grave.
Four years prior, Stephine, at the age of thirteen, laughed a little to loudly, and way jingling keys between her thumb and index finger. Her words had slurred together as she suggested a little trip to the store. The stench of liquor and alcohol reeked off of her a she climbed into the drivers seat, unlicensed and underage. She stared the car, revving it and letting a laugh escape her plush pink lips, eyes vivid and excited.
He climbed in the passenger. Pushing it into reverse, Stephine pulled out of the driveway, foot easing onto the gas petal. She felt so alive.. Her foot pushed more and more gas into the engine, until they were speeding down Gratiot Ave, losing control of the car. Hitting the emergency breaks, the front of the car spun, smashing into a tree. Passenger side.
The stench of blood overcame her as she'd sunken into unconsciousness, though willed herself to stay awake.
"Vinnie? Vinnie!" Her frantic, slurred crys came as she stared down at the mangled body in her arms, blood staining her clothes and dribbling down her arms. His blond hair was matted and tangled with red, in his face he was clearly on conscious. Petting his hair with her free and, Stephine began to whisper for him not to give up, even in this state in intoxication, she was not a fool.
The shrill rings of the police and ambulance came to late, leaving Stephine, blood soaked and scarred for life, standing unharmed for the most part, watching her friend being carried away in a body bag.
At the funeral, she got nothing but stares and comments, neither of which good. She had to speak about a dear friend and a devilish grin, and how everyone seemed to catch a Vinne,(referring to how he would jump into your arms and declare 'You caught a Vinnie!') and she still remembered, to this day, the eerie silence that came afterwords of people who loved him, and blamed her. But why shouldn't they? It was her fault. She got in that car and drove, he was just there.
By time eleventh grade hit, she couldn't take it any more. Michigan was not for her, not at all in the least bit. Where everyone still looked at her, some avoiding, some even as going so far to confront her. So she'd gone on a search, looking for a place, any place, where no one would know what happened, know why she was there. And then she found Forks.
Forks was a rainy town, not large, but seemed cozy where she would, could be taken in as someone who had a normal life, just wanting to escape big city life.
Role Playing;
Role Playing Sample;
Bag clutched tight to her chest, Stephine sat, gazing out the plane window as she left her old life behind, to start fresh. She suppose this town would be nice, considering she didn't mind rain, and seeing as the population was small, no one would've heard of what had happened that night..
A flash of a mangled body and blood, think and stick, flashed into her mind. A sharp intake of breath came as she stopped a passing flight attend and asked for a coke, she needed to drink something cold to calm herself. Taking a long breath, Stephine began to think of how great the new town was going to be, seeing as no one will have heard of her. Well, at least she hoped.
An hour in, Stephine brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes, tucking her feet under her and pulled out her journal and a pen, flipping open to the next available page.
Stephine grabbed her bag from the floor and began heading out of the plain, journal tucked under her arm. This is it, she thought to herself, pursing her lips. Finally, after a while in baggage claim, she set out into the rain, into a cab where they headed away from Port Angelus and toward Forks, head high as she tried to keep telling herself, new start, new life, new start, new life, no more having to worry, new life, new start.
Name; Isabella (Bah. Just call me Izzy. Make it easy on the both of us.)
Age; n/a
Experience; Three or four years, lost count
Your Character;
The Basics;
Name; Stephine Lynn Fitzhugh
Age; 18
Grade; 12
School; Forks High School
Vampire or Werewolf?; "What the hell kind of question is that?"
Canon; n/a
Pictures;
Dig a Little Deeper;
Personality;
Stephine, a smart, sarcastic seventeen year old with a spark of her own. Some say the accident did something to her, but she's content all the same. She has an unmistakable grin that is constantly placed on her lips, laughing at something someone else would find stupid. That was who she was. Someone who grasped life and held on tight, never wanting to let go. She knew how precious life was now, and held on dearly.
She tends to be over considerate at times, making sure she always told everyone how she felt about them, though not going to deep into her mind. She made sure, if they died, that they would know exactly what she thought, nothing more, nothing less.
She never drank anymore besides the occasional glass of champaign at a wedding, or wine at he mothers birthday, but never for pleasure after that night. She was quite nice once you got to know her, but she was a hard shell to crack when you first meet her. She can be conservative, but around the people she's closest to, she can't help but be wild and outgoing, trying to make everyone smile.
With that note, she can be trusted with alot of things. She has many untold secrets of those who she left back in Michigan, never to be told or spoken of for her life. But then again, she expects those who she tells her secrets, to keep them just as sacred as she did. She wouldn't tell if you told, at least, she hasn't in the past, it doesn't mean she won't, though.
Appearance;
Standing at five two, Stephine is a bit short for seventeen, and she will make it a point one way or another. Vertically challenged, she would call it. She had rather short hair, layered and thinned on the sides, leaving her free to pull it outward and spike it as she pleased, light brown extentions at the sides, and bangs, whether she wanted them parted to the side or to cover her eyes directly in a curtain of darkness.
Her eyes, how ever, were a different story. They had an odd shape indeed, like an almond, but wider, and definitely wiser. Not green or brown, honey or gold, but a mixture. Hazel? Yes, but a different one at that. Her eyes varied from day to day, but her favorite was when honey suckle overcame around her pupal, twisting into a mass of chocolate brown, leaving gold flecks, and then into a strange mossy green that you saw, growing on a tree out deep in the forest where it lie undisturbed by human presence.
She had plush lips, a medium pink that had a nice curve on top, normally slightly parted as she thought, gazing out the window of a classroom or doing her hair or make-up. Ah, she was one for make-up. Not the normal, of course. Bright greens or pinks would line her eyes in a over dramatic sharp point, enhancing the intensity of her eyes.
She normally wore something a bit out of the normal, strait legged jeans with long, pink and white skirts over it, or a single fuzzy legging over her jeans. Always jeans.
On her right hip, however, is a memorial of her best friend Vincent Ocelnik, a pair of paying hands and his name, date of birth and date of death.
Celebrity PB; Sarah Cowlin
History;
A witty, sarcastic young girl in the attempt to escape what she doesn't want to face. Though it had been years after the accident, Stephine still blames herself for all that happened. Twisted metal and thick, sticky blood is a painful flash of memory that constantly eats at her. That was the reason she had to leave. Leave everyone behind, her friends, her family, his family, and most of all, his grave.
Four years prior, Stephine, at the age of thirteen, laughed a little to loudly, and way jingling keys between her thumb and index finger. Her words had slurred together as she suggested a little trip to the store. The stench of liquor and alcohol reeked off of her a she climbed into the drivers seat, unlicensed and underage. She stared the car, revving it and letting a laugh escape her plush pink lips, eyes vivid and excited.
He climbed in the passenger. Pushing it into reverse, Stephine pulled out of the driveway, foot easing onto the gas petal. She felt so alive.. Her foot pushed more and more gas into the engine, until they were speeding down Gratiot Ave, losing control of the car. Hitting the emergency breaks, the front of the car spun, smashing into a tree. Passenger side.
The stench of blood overcame her as she'd sunken into unconsciousness, though willed herself to stay awake.
"Vinnie? Vinnie!" Her frantic, slurred crys came as she stared down at the mangled body in her arms, blood staining her clothes and dribbling down her arms. His blond hair was matted and tangled with red, in his face he was clearly on conscious. Petting his hair with her free and, Stephine began to whisper for him not to give up, even in this state in intoxication, she was not a fool.
The shrill rings of the police and ambulance came to late, leaving Stephine, blood soaked and scarred for life, standing unharmed for the most part, watching her friend being carried away in a body bag.
At the funeral, she got nothing but stares and comments, neither of which good. She had to speak about a dear friend and a devilish grin, and how everyone seemed to catch a Vinne,(referring to how he would jump into your arms and declare 'You caught a Vinnie!') and she still remembered, to this day, the eerie silence that came afterwords of people who loved him, and blamed her. But why shouldn't they? It was her fault. She got in that car and drove, he was just there.
By time eleventh grade hit, she couldn't take it any more. Michigan was not for her, not at all in the least bit. Where everyone still looked at her, some avoiding, some even as going so far to confront her. So she'd gone on a search, looking for a place, any place, where no one would know what happened, know why she was there. And then she found Forks.
Forks was a rainy town, not large, but seemed cozy where she would, could be taken in as someone who had a normal life, just wanting to escape big city life.
Role Playing;
Role Playing Sample;
Bag clutched tight to her chest, Stephine sat, gazing out the plane window as she left her old life behind, to start fresh. She suppose this town would be nice, considering she didn't mind rain, and seeing as the population was small, no one would've heard of what had happened that night..
A flash of a mangled body and blood, think and stick, flashed into her mind. A sharp intake of breath came as she stopped a passing flight attend and asked for a coke, she needed to drink something cold to calm herself. Taking a long breath, Stephine began to think of how great the new town was going to be, seeing as no one will have heard of her. Well, at least she hoped.
An hour in, Stephine brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes, tucking her feet under her and pulled out her journal and a pen, flipping open to the next available page.
Dear journal,
I'm finally on my way to that new town I told you about, remember? Forks? Yeah. It sounded nice there. Small, but nice. I guess I chose it because no one will know me. Whatever. I'm on the plane, and it's really stuffy in her. The air seems stale, and the food.. Well, I can see why people make fun of it. It reminds me of the movie 'Fight Club' when Tyler Durden and the narrator meet for the first time, and the narrator explains how Tyler is "By far the most single serving friend I've met". I wish something like that would happen to me.
Yikes! We're landing. I'll tell you about the place later.
Stephine.
P.s. It's raining.
I'm finally on my way to that new town I told you about, remember? Forks? Yeah. It sounded nice there. Small, but nice. I guess I chose it because no one will know me. Whatever. I'm on the plane, and it's really stuffy in her. The air seems stale, and the food.. Well, I can see why people make fun of it. It reminds me of the movie 'Fight Club' when Tyler Durden and the narrator meet for the first time, and the narrator explains how Tyler is "By far the most single serving friend I've met". I wish something like that would happen to me.
Yikes! We're landing. I'll tell you about the place later.
Stephine.
P.s. It's raining.
Stephine grabbed her bag from the floor and began heading out of the plain, journal tucked under her arm. This is it, she thought to herself, pursing her lips. Finally, after a while in baggage claim, she set out into the rain, into a cab where they headed away from Port Angelus and toward Forks, head high as she tried to keep telling herself, new start, new life, new start, new life, no more having to worry, new life, new start.