Post by Vanity Blake, on Jan 9, 2007 17:34:37 GMT -5
TIRED OF FIGHTING,
_______________________________________________________
Name:
Vanity Marie Blake
Nicknames:
None.
Age:
eighteen
Gender:
femme
Hometown/Country:
Well, now, Forks, obviously.
Used to live in San Francisco.
Personality/Attitude:
Vanity is a complex person. She's difficult to read, even by her movements or expression. She can be completely happy one minute and be so angry with you the next. The thing is, you just can't tell. She has many different emotions. Vanity can be a bitch. Part of the reason for this is the way she was brought up. Her mother was a bitch and she spoiled her daughter to death. It's the only way Vanity knows. No, she's learned from experience that acting spoiled is not the way to go. She just hasn't figured out that having a bitchy attitude will get you nowhere. She hasn't quite figured that out yet. She's not a bitch to everyone, just to people who think that they're better than everyone else and treat her badly. She's not rich, she's not poor, and she's not stuck up. She hates people that are like that. You can't tell when she's mad unless you know her well. When she is really, truly mad on the other hand, you can tell. She just about blows her top. She'll yell, she'll scream, and she'll cry if it's bad enough. She can act like a little five year old sometimes.
Don't worry though, that rarely happens. Usually, she's just the hyper, sometimes reclusive, and always seemingly happy girl that she was meant to be. She's always hyper, happy, and funloving. She'll do just about anything to have all eyes on her at all times..well, anything reasonable of course. She's a partier and she's unpredictable, it's one of her most addictive traits. She likes showing off her body, just like any other, has-been teen partier. She loves laughing and smiling and usually will do one or the other whenever possible.
The one thing that Vanity isn't it a slut. Just because she used to work at a strip club and pleased men doesn't mean that she liked it or even enjoyed it at all. It was just an easy way for money. Sure, she'll flaunt her body sometimes but not in a kinky, slutty way. It's usually just showing off clothes. The nineteen year old wasn't brought up like that. Sure, she was spoiled, but she wasn't brought up to be a sex-addicted teen. She experienced life with one and realized that it's not as perfect as her mother makes it look.
Vanity's a relatively shut-up person. She hides her feelings well. She rarely tells anyone what she's thinking or why she's thinking that. Her eyes never give away information, good or bad. She's just a quiet person when it comes to talking about important, personal matters. She'll get offended very easily if you say something to set her off the edge. She's not afraid to tell you off, so don't take it personally when she starts yelling at you. It's what happens when you live with two parents that yell at each other and you all the time.
Likes:
men
laughing
music
money
soda pop
talking on the phone
fashion
shopping
AIM.
Dislikes:
bitches
hoes
sluts
whores
etc.
fish
seafood, period.
reading
lectures
Appearance/Picture:
Vanity's build is thin and relatively tall, for a girl. She stands at 5'7" and weighs approximately 115 pounds. She's thin, maybe too thin. Her chest isn't big, mostly because of her too-thin weight. She wears a 34A cup size. See? Not very big. She has a curvy physique, thanks to the few years of modeling and losing drastic weight...okay, so maybe not thanks to that..
She's a little too skinny and fragile for a lot of mens' tastes that they tend to stay away from her. Those few men though, the man-whorish ones, they can't help but turn and look. Now, don't get me wrong, Vanity has a lot of flaws in her appearance, one being her too-thin appearance and frail bones.
Vanity's hair is a long, blonde color. She usually always wears it down except on special occasions where she goes all out. Fixing up her hair is one of the most important things when it comes to appearance, according to her. Most of her accessories kept in her bathroom are hair accessories, whether they be pony tails, hair bands, or hair extensions, you name 'em, she's got them.
Vanity's eyes are a piercing blue. They stick out from behind her sometimes red hair like an electric shock. Her eyes are piercing and crystal blue. They're irrestistable. You can't help but look into them when you meet her, and they seem to transfix some people when they meet her. Weird...
Vanity's nose is cute and button-ey. It might seem a little odd-shaped, but in reality, it suits her face just right. It's not too big and it's not too little. If there was such a thing as a normal sized nose, that's how you could describe Vanity's.
Her lips are difficult to explain. They're thin, but not to the point where they're barely visible. They are visible, definitely. They're always coated with a clear or light pink lip gloss, on the job or off.
Vanity's scars are somewhat visible. There's a few here and there, but some from her past boyfriend that'll never go away. From him, there's a couple on her shoulder blade, very visible, and one or two on each leg.
Other than that, she's just fallen down off her bike a few times when she was little, nothing too major.
Vanity? Flaws? No way.
Ha, if only that were the case. Vanity's all about flaws. She knows that she's not perfect and is totally fine with that. She's got personality flaws and she's got major physical flaws. A few of those are her thin appearance. It's not too pretty when she's gone through a usual drastic weight loss and then is strutting her stuff in a bikini that's too big even for her.
Another flaw is her lips. They're a little funky looking. Her whole face is gorgeous, you just have to be that person to think so. Different people have different tastes.
Vanity has 3 piercings, but no tattoos. She has a piercing on each ear-lobe and a piercing on the cartilage of her left ear. They're usually just small studs in all her piercings. They're visible if you care to pay attention.
{look above at top for picture.}
Relatives/Family:
meagen rose-blake - 40 - mother
nathan blake - 41 - father
emilee jade blake - 16 - sister
Occupation:
currently unemployed
Background/History:
Vanity's history isn't all about blood and gore. No one died, there aren't really any grudges held against anyone, and she loves her parents to death. She was born on January 30 to Meagen and Nathan Blake, newy weds. she was their prized, littly girl. She had no problem with being spoiled. She was fussy from the day she was born. She couldn't let her parents get an hour of sleep in between the times she cried. Anyways, ignoring that little flaw, she was exceptionally cute.
Growing up, for the most part, she listened. Her mother had a short temper and her father had patience with Meagen. That's where Vanity got the yelling and screaming from. She got her short temper from her mother, which would also explain why she's still very obedient to this day. She was always pretty small up until that major growth spurt when she was a little over 14.
During her awkward preteen years, she was never too popular or anything relatively close to those sorts. She was alwas considered a dork up until she moved to San Francisco. She promised to make a new image for herself, a good image. Hopefully one that would change her life. She was signed with a modeling company before she began school. Word spread quickly. She wasn't just the average, girl-next-door, sort of skinny, weird girl. She wasn't middle class. She was first class, popular, pretty, maybe too-thin girl.
She showed her true side, the hyper, athletic girl. She continued modeling and that. When she was 15, she went through a hard time. She would go through drastic weightloss and then drastic weightgain. Her personality would differ from day to day. The modeling career wasn't working wonders for her. She 'quit'. As you can imagine, that made her popularity decrease quite fast. She wasn't bothered. She still had brilliant friends and that was all that really mattered to her.
When she turned 16, her family moved to Isliton. It was and still is by far her favorite place. There, she attended the local high school. Being the new girl had its advantages. She was popular, got good grades, and got her first boyfriend. His name, you ask? James Ferris. He was cute, [seemingly] sweet, and popular. He treated her well at first, before he became abusive. The night she found him doing drugs, that's when he changed.
He became abusive, hurtful, and unfaithful. She told no one, partly because she thought that he was the guy of her dreams, the one she lost her virginity to. The one to take away her youthful innocence. He meant everything to her, even if he did treat her like crap.
He died when she was 16. She got over it surprisingly quickly, and that surprised even her. She never told anyone what James did to her. When he hurt her, physically and emotionally. She kept it to herself. The rumor was that James killed himself, but only Vanity really knew what happened. He was killed, by his drug dealer for not getting his money in on time, it's the sad truth.
After that incident, she moved to Forks. She completely hated it. It was so dreary, so boring. Here, she turned eighteen. She wasn't exactly popular at school. She's known, but not liked. Most people here see her as an annoying, partying teen that's only going to cause trouble.
Canon or Custom?
Custom
Timezone:
GMT-6 Central Time
Sample RP:
{another RPG, another character}
She shut her eyes once more as she felt his hot breath against her seemingly silk skin. Her hands clamped into fists and she shivered slightly as she felt his hand brush aside her hair. She felt as though her heart was pounding out of her tiny chest. The memories this guy brought back, it made her want to run, get away from this place. The darkness of it all was too much to handle. She parted her lips and let out a soft cry. "Please let go." She said in a faint, feminine tone, much higher than normal. She bit down on her bottom lip and squeezed her navy tinted optics shut and dug her own nails into her limply hanging arm, merely to transfer the pain, or just to make it go away. She didn't want to be here, not ever again. She thought she could give this place another try and now it was clear she couldn't ever return to this place. She couldn't even believe she had come here in the first place. Meeting her father would just be more trouble and hurt.
Her mind snapped back into reality as the pain in her shoulder increased. "You're hurting me." She added, this time, her voice a little louder, but equally highpitched. How could men like this be so terrible? What made them like this? Abusive, drug addicted, messed up? She hadn't a clue. She bent her knees, trying to break free from his grasp. It only led to more pain. Her breath quickened as she heard and felt him inhale and exhale against her soft skinned neck. She pulled her neck away to look him in the eye, jaw tightening. This was painful. She wanted him to stop. Why would he do this? The thoughts of her father, and mother, those terrible, terrible nights. They were overwhelming. As the flashbacks shot across her mind, she forgot where she was, forgot the pain, forgot all reality.
One night in particular was clear as crystal in her mind. It was before she was put into a children's home. It was about 3 days before, or something like that. Her father had just gotten home with her mother. Dahlia and her sister were on the dirty carpet, playing with an old puzzle. Her parents were fighting and her mother went up into their room, screaming and yelling. Her father was upset, really upset. His anger, it had always gotten the best of him. The two girls were brought up to be obedient and so they did whatever their father or mother told them. They knew what would happen if they didn't, and also if they did listen. It would end up the same way no matter what.
And again, it did. When he was angry, it wasn't pretty at all. She was scarred physically and mentally from it all, and the scarring mentally hadn't faded at all. The memories flashed before her and her eyes became blank and staring as she continued to look into the male's eyes, finally blinking. "I'm looking for a David Rose." She said in a monotone voice. It was the one she used to use when she was at school, or sitting alone in her bedroom in her corner, trying to talk her dad out of something. She hadn't used that tone in almost 5 years, since she left her house. These streets hadn't changed a bit. They were the same old run-down houses with the same old cracked roads, only it was strangely quiet here, in this part. Not being here in almost five years had made her forget what her home looked like and where it was.
She didn't actually was to see her father. She just wanted to get away from this guy, go back to her other home. With her sister, on the Kensington Hotel. That's where she really wanted to be. She had come her...just because, she guessed. Her sister sure hadn't encouraged it, or wouldn't have, if Dahlia would have told her about the little trip she was making over here. If Dahl would have told Vanity where she was going, her sister would have blocked the door to keep her from going, or put two big bodyguards outside the door to keep her from going anywhere. Vanity was the older twin, Dahlia's best friend, her protector, her everything. Vanity was her idol, everything Dahlia looked up to. The two used to be inseperable, now they were growing apart, partly because they were teenagers and Vanity was growing up. Not Dahlia. She was just that lost little girl, looking for a way out.
She blinked, the color coming back to her cheeks and skin. The pain came back too. An angry expression took over her features. "Just fucking let go of me!" She pulled herself from his grasp. His breath, the hotness, his grip, it had become much too overwhelming for even Dahlia to handle. She was usually patient. Not today. She was not going to turn into another guy's helpless, worthless little toy, not again, not ever. She thought this guy would be like that when maybe she could have been wrong. Maybe he was different, but that, she doubted. From the force of her pulling out of his grasp, she fell to the ground, a rock or two scraping across her skin. She winced but stood up, starting with a fast walk to get away from the eerie, dark place. She didn't even look back behind her, just followed the road.
sorry for the bad language. :\
