Post by TALIA DESTINY PRICE on Jun 4, 2009 13:18:57 GMT -5
Talia Destiny Price
HAI THERE, I’M Talia Destiny Price. BUT MOST PEOPLE CALL ME Tallie,Talia, Or Talberry. I’LL PROBABLY ANSWER TO ANYTHING THOUGH TO BE HONEST. Eighteen of MarchIS A PRETTY BIG DAY FOR ME SINCE IT WAS WHEN I WAS BORN; GETTING GIFTS IS ALWAYS A PLUS THOUGH. THIS MEANS I’M Nineteen YEARS OLD, BUT LET’S NOT TALK ABOUT HOW OLD I’M GETTING. I WAS BORN IN Wales, IT’S AN OKAY PLACE BUT NOTHING COMPARED TO WHERE I LIVE NOW New York. I DON’T MEAN TO BRAG BUT MY JOB IS PRETTY DAMN AWESOME, YOU’D THINK SO TOO IF YOU WERE a Model. IT’S NO SECRET THAT I LIKE Boys. APPERENTLY PEOPLE SEEM TO THINK I LOOK LIKE Frieda RoseBUT I THINK THEIR CRAZY.
NOW YOU KNOW A LITTLE ABOUT MY CHARACTER I’M GOING TO LET YOU KNOW A BIT ABOUT ME, Lori. I’M SURE YOU’VE HEARD OF ME BEFORE RIGHT? I’M Fifteen YEARS OLD BUT IT’S NOT LIKE THAT’S IMPORTANT. IF YOU’RE INTERESTED MY OTHER CHARACTERS ON HERE ARE N/A, CHECK THEM OUT. I’VE BEEN ROLEPLAYING FOR three YEARS, I CONSIDER MYSELF A PRO BY NOW. IF YOU FEEL THE NEED TO CONTACT ME ABOUT ANYTHING THAT HIT ME UP AT lauraewile@hotmail.com.
Glancing down at her wristwatch, the young, blonde haired girl noted that the time was three pm. Three hours to go, and she would be putting on her last performance at the Cirque d'Amour for a long, long time. Undoubtedly, she would miss the place- it was her home, after all, and the people in it were like her family. At least she would be able to take a little piece of the Circus with her- in the form of her fellow teenage performers. This gave her little comfort. The only thing that drove her on, was her father' pain and the fact that she loved the Circus. She could see the pain on everyone's faces', when the closing down of their home was mentioned. This drove her on too, she supposed. She didn't want to seem selfish, but, at the moment, all she cared about was earning the money for her father. She didn't care about who she would have to knock down to get it. Nothing would be physically able to stand in her way. At least, that's what she hoped, anyhow. She snuck another glance at her watch, swallowing. As always, she was nervous, though it was a few hours until the actual performance. She always became nervous on show nights. Sighing gently, she bit her bottom lip and stared at the mirror in front of her.
She was sat in her 'private' dressing room. Though it was called private, nodbody ever felt the need to knock whilst she was occupying it- they just walked in, ignoring her privacy. Life at the Circus could never be private, she had been told countless times. It was a close-knit family. And, most of the time, she loved this fact. Here, everyone knew everything about everyone, and people only kept their deepest, darkest secrets to themelves. Everything else was kept out in the open. She glanced down at the large array of stage make-up, scattered all over her dressing table. Picking up a pot of white face powder, she started dabbing her face with a sponge. The lights were always so bright, in the ring. After that, sh started applying vigorous amounts of rouge to her cheeks, to make them rosy red. Her lips came next, painted a rouge red. She sighed gently. No matter how much make up she plastered on, she knew she would never be as pretty as the Contorionist, or many of the other girls. And never near as confident as any of them. The only time she felt confident, was when she was doing her 'thing' out in the ring. She smiled at this thought, anticipation curling into the pit of her stomach, and sher giggled gently to herself. She was dressed in a leotard, with a ruffled skirt, almost like a Ballet dancers'. In the rign she was graceful, and elegant, but outside it, she was a klutz. It made sense to nobody, not even her.
She got up carefully, knocking over a few lipstick cases, as she did so. She bent down to pick the up hurriedly, blushing underneah all the make up she had covered herself with. Frowning, she shook her head, annoyed at herself. She knew that other people at the camp laughed at her, because of her awkwardness, but they couldn't say anything against her when she was performing. She placed the cases back onto the dresser, in a neat little line, standing up straight again and glancing own at her outfit. All the performers had to dress something like this, to give the feel of an old fasioned Circus. Those circuses were the best, her father had told her numerous times. She shook her head. She knew the Circus was her father's life, and she would do anything to make sure it remained just that. She frowned again, her brow creasing gently, before she tied her ballet flats onto her feet and walked out, closing the door behind her. She loved the outfits she wore, though she would never admit it. They made her feel...like someone else. Someone who had not a care in the world. And that someone was the person she had always wanted to be. Someday, she was sure, she would be her. But not today. Today, she had more important matters on her mind. Like, how much she would miss her home. She left the tent, and started to walk across the field where they had set up the camp, to find someone, anyone, who would listen to her for once.
She was sat in her 'private' dressing room. Though it was called private, nodbody ever felt the need to knock whilst she was occupying it- they just walked in, ignoring her privacy. Life at the Circus could never be private, she had been told countless times. It was a close-knit family. And, most of the time, she loved this fact. Here, everyone knew everything about everyone, and people only kept their deepest, darkest secrets to themelves. Everything else was kept out in the open. She glanced down at the large array of stage make-up, scattered all over her dressing table. Picking up a pot of white face powder, she started dabbing her face with a sponge. The lights were always so bright, in the ring. After that, sh started applying vigorous amounts of rouge to her cheeks, to make them rosy red. Her lips came next, painted a rouge red. She sighed gently. No matter how much make up she plastered on, she knew she would never be as pretty as the Contorionist, or many of the other girls. And never near as confident as any of them. The only time she felt confident, was when she was doing her 'thing' out in the ring. She smiled at this thought, anticipation curling into the pit of her stomach, and sher giggled gently to herself. She was dressed in a leotard, with a ruffled skirt, almost like a Ballet dancers'. In the rign she was graceful, and elegant, but outside it, she was a klutz. It made sense to nobody, not even her.
She got up carefully, knocking over a few lipstick cases, as she did so. She bent down to pick the up hurriedly, blushing underneah all the make up she had covered herself with. Frowning, she shook her head, annoyed at herself. She knew that other people at the camp laughed at her, because of her awkwardness, but they couldn't say anything against her when she was performing. She placed the cases back onto the dresser, in a neat little line, standing up straight again and glancing own at her outfit. All the performers had to dress something like this, to give the feel of an old fasioned Circus. Those circuses were the best, her father had told her numerous times. She shook her head. She knew the Circus was her father's life, and she would do anything to make sure it remained just that. She frowned again, her brow creasing gently, before she tied her ballet flats onto her feet and walked out, closing the door behind her. She loved the outfits she wore, though she would never admit it. They made her feel...like someone else. Someone who had not a care in the world. And that someone was the person she had always wanted to be. Someday, she was sure, she would be her. But not today. Today, she had more important matters on her mind. Like, how much she would miss her home. She left the tent, and started to walk across the field where they had set up the camp, to find someone, anyone, who would listen to her for once.
THE APPLICATION FORM WAS MADE BY FOREVER YOUNG OF CAUTION 2.0.[/size]
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