Sophia Joelle DeAngelis

[joelle]

001. NAME• Sophia Joelle DeAngelis
002. NICKNAME• Joelle ; Jo
003. AGE• 22
004. BIRTHDATE• November 29th, 1987
005. WHERE YOU LIVE?• Jacksonville, Florida

001. YOUR FACE• Lady Gaga ; Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta
002. HAIR• Died platinum blonde, her hair falls down to about midback. Her bangs are straight cut across. Normally, she wears it straightened, but at other times, she likes to wear it curled in an almost Marilyn Monroe fashion.
003. EYES• Her eyes are a turquoise color, not only bewitching, but can easily stand out on their own without wearing makeup.
004. HIEGHT• 5'7"
005. WEIGHT• 146
006. BODY MODS• Industrial piercing in her right ear, sustained and maintained with a metal bar.
007. FASHION/STYLE• It ranges from day to day, one day she could shock people with an outfit of extravagant coloration and strange choices, or the next she could be wearing something as simple as jeans and a t-shirt.

001. LIKES•
-Glitter
-Traveling
-Freedom
-Off-the-wall Theories
-Wild Schemes
-Fantasies
-Being Involved
-Topaz
-Purple
-Sweet stuff
002. DISLIKES•
-The Norm
-Being Constrained
-Being given only surface data
-Shallow relationships
-Anywhere dark
-Doing things safely
-Ordinary, day to day living
-Close-Minded People
003. FEARS•
-The Dark
-Scorpions
-Tight Spaces
-Betrayal
-Breaking down
004. STRENGTHS•
-Making her voice heard
-Making people believe she's crazy
-Fashion
-Foreign Languages
005. WEAKNESSES•
-Chocolate
-Candy
-Food in general
-Her love for the obscene
-Weak tolerance to alcohol
006. ODDITIES•
-An extra finger on her left hand
-Never wears the same thing twice
-Hates the dark, but loves the night scene
-Her father is a police officer, but she rarely does the right thing.
007. ORIENTATION• Romantically & Sexually heterosexual
008. SPECIFIC MORALS• Morals? Hehe.
009. PERSONALITY OVERVIEW•
Vivid, bright. Two words that can easily describe Miss Sophia Joelle DeAngelis. Her personality is not only alluring, but it keeps people around, making them want even more than what they have experienced. Joelle strives to keep people by her side, never wanting to be alone in this world. Though, when she is betrayed by one that she considers a friend, she does not easily forgive, and she would much rather forget that the person exists all together. She tends to gravitate away from people that are considered close-minded because she does not think that they will accept her radical views and the way that she conducts herself.

Joelle is a party girl. She loves the nightlife, but has a big fear for the dark, so venturing out in the night makes her a bit on edge, but once the lights of a club hit her, she is set in full motion. She takes a certain love for learning languages, and one of her favorites so far is Russian. Her consistency with outfits and the way she wears her hair are just a bit flaky, and she is very blindly optimistic. This could mean that she is slightly careless also, which could be held as true because at times, she forgets to do things that are asked of her.

001. PARENT ONE• Taylor Christian DeAngelis - 56 - Police Officer
002. PARENT TWO• Jessica Nicole DeAngelis (Weimer) - 49 - Dispatcher
003. SIBLINGS• Only child.
004. PETS• Rockstar ; A parrot of many beautiful colors.
005. HISTORY OVERVIEW•

Not everyone was born to blend in with the crowds and Joelle was prime example of this quote even as she was a mere infant. From the day she was born, the Sagittarius was a wailer. In the

hospital, it was a common temptation of the doctors and nurses to shove a cork in the little baby's mouth because it never seemed to close. Sophia Joelle DeAngelis was always sobbing about something or another. And it carried over to home life also. In the middle of the night, her parents would wake up to sobbing like no other. Was it a cry for attention at such a tender age? Only time would really be able to tell.

As she moved on from infancy, her parents took a notice in the fact that she was quite restless. Never did she have a night where she would sleep all the way through, there was always something to awake her. As soon as the girl could begin to speak, though, it was quite 'game on'. Even at the age of two, she would be using words that she would hear her parents say without even fully understanding what they would mean, and that got her in trouble often. Soon after that, her mother began the trek of teaching her young daughter to read the books that you would find sitting out on the tables for the young children in the library.

By the age of five, though, she pushed aside the small books with pictures in them and moved on towards different books, with limited pictures. It was clear that she would be rather excelled in reading and speaking the English language, so her mother decided to put her in classes to learn Spanish alongside studying her English. And it worked for her. Though, she had some shortcomings in the fields of Math and Science, and this disgruntled the poor girl. So rather than working to get better at her math and sciences, she ignored them, working on what she was actually good at.

As she moved on, excelling with wonderful grades in classes that related to the Arts and the bare minimums for number based classes, she racked up many different languages. Alongside of English and Spanish, she brought in Latin, French, and Russian. By the age of Sixteen, she could speak those languages and understand what was being said to her in them. And by the age of Sixteen, she took a notice in things such as fashion, music, and the opposite sex. With the guidance of her parents, she gained her license and a basic car to drive. And this opened up a floodgate of problems that would lead up to her dropping out of a community college for partying.

Now Joelle works at a local club, nothing fancy or special, as a bartender. And when she can, she makes it out of the apartment and parties with friends that she has met over the years. Though she enjoys the limelight and traveling, she expects nothing amazing to come out of her life and she expects only the barest of minimums rather than holding high hopes only to have them dashed down.

Yo', my name is Cynthia, and I've been the walking dead for 16 years, and I've been grave robbing for six years, I dug up lovely Crimson Kiss by means of Angelique and adore it.

001. ANYTHING ELSE?• Nope.
002. ROLE PLAY SAMPLE•

”Get off it.” Came a subtle reply as the sounds of heel clad feet clicked down the hallway. Always the professional looking one, Tamashi came into the shade of the dark library, the musty smell of old pages assaulting her nose. A part of her hadn’t wanted to come, and the part of her didn’t want her to dress up and look nice just to read. Though, she had a penchant for not truly listening. The girl was dressed in a simple white dress that hugged her shoulders, back, chest, and stomach area tightly before slowly pooling off down around her knees. The dress had even had long sleeves. She felt very conservative, to be honest. Nothing low cut, just the way it showed off her body was the provocative part.

Following the curves of her body, one would notice how her stomach had begun to poke out just the tiniest of bits. If you weren’t looking for pregnancy, you would not have found it, only having been along for about a month and a half. One would simply think that she was eating a lot more healthier than she had been. Trust this author, being a shinobi didn’t call for the greatest of eating habits. She really was trying to adjust, though. For the sake of her tiny little trouble maker inside of her more than herself.

Bound against her feet were those damned heels once again that made her seem so much taller than what her five-foot two-inches stature really allowed. Being the prime example of beauty was a hard upkeep, but she really did it for her own amusement. Just to see the guys stumble over themselves as they tried to get a better look at her body. To feel their eyes upon her. She was the epitome of bitch in that sense, really. You won some, you lost some. She knew that she could pull it off, anyways.

Pushing open a door that led down a flight of stairs (though you couldn’t exactly tell, it was pitch black), the musty scent hit harder than it had before, causing the contents of her stomach to churn. She shook her wrists and sliding down her sleeve came her trusty and handy lighter. She flipped it open, causing a flame to glow gently. It was meager, but it helped. She left the door hanging open and walked down the basement of the ancient library, the lighter catching cobwebs as she descended the stairs. Progressively, the surrounding air got colder, causing her to shiver.

She noted that she probably should’ve brought a jacket. A hand jutted out to the side and she trailed her fingers against the cold stone. She looked around as much as she could, being very cautious. The area was rather narrow, and the stairs felt like a straight drop. She remembered almost slipping and falling when she explored the area when she was younger. Although, it wasn’t in the dark and it wasn’t nearly as creepy to her eight-year-old self. When you were young, things were limitless. She wasn’t young anymore. And with age came the loss of ignorance.

Finally, she reached the bottom of the stairs and the high risk situation had been ranked down for now. There was nothing left to fear but the dark now. She walked down a hallway, half expecting to run into a cobweb herself, to get herself shrouded in the stuff. Thankfully, she hadn’t. The only thing that was around her now were a bunch of old, stale books. Stale books, herself, her mind, and her thudding heartbeat. She knew why she was here. Though, was it really worth the panic? Of course it was.

Walking along the tomes and shelves, she waved the lighter in front of each of the titles, reading what they had to say. She knew what she needed, and what she needed was the only reason as to why she came to this place, this library hidden in the forest of Kirigakure. Her fingers ran along leather bound spines and she read carefully, blue eyes scanning all of the things that she could. She read about things about ancient warriors, history, and everything else. Never relenting in her searches, the girl continued on, shelf after shelf.

Eventually, she found what she had been looking for. Her fingers ran over the raised letters on the spine that spelled out the word ‘Sealing’. Gingerly, she pulled the book from the shelf, tucking it underneath of her arm. She retreated from the area between the shelves, into a more open space. It didn’t feel like she was breathing in bits of dust as much now, but the feeling still tickled at her throat, making her want to wheeze and cough.

In a large, open area in the library, there sat a large, elaborate chair and a desk. It looked like this place had been someone’s study once before. Upon the desk sat a few pencils that appeared to be chewed on, a lamp, and a few sheets of paper. She dropped the book onto the desk, causing the pencils to roll off and clatter to the floor noisily. She leaned over the lamp, taking in the scent of the oil. She reached down into it and lit the wick, adjusting it so that she would be able to read without worrying about it.

Walking around the desk, she sat down into the chair, causing dust to rise in the air. She sniffled and scrunched up her nose as the particles invaded her senses. She steeled herself up, though, to ignore all of this. She brought the chair up closer to the desk. Flipping open the book, she skimmed the index, not looking for anything in particular. The girl flipped to the first page, and that was where the fun begun. The book WAS as thick as her. And that was why she was going to be there for a while.

Shifting back and forth, her eyes read line after line after line. Her finger trailed underneath of the words every so often, so that she wouldn’t let her weariness mess with her reading. Those eyes also winced every so often, images of human suffering depicted there to shock the reader, maybe even to make them sick. She knew that this was all a ploy to drive her away from what she was trying to learn. Or was it? One could never be completely sure. She definitely wasn’t at the moment.

One leg crossed over the other as she leaned back, book cradled in her arms. The soft halo of light barely allowed her to pull this off, but it was quite possible. Thank goodness. Her eyes dragged over the pages now more lazily, foot bouncing up and down in the air. And then, they stopped, completely, all together, locked on one page.

‘The Seal Master must brand themselves, as a show of power.
Also to know how one shall feel when they are branded with
The Seal Master’s seal. Though the seal will just appear as
A simple tattoo along the jaw line and down the neck, the
Image shall be full well understood. All the pain of receiving
Will be inflicted upon the Seal Master. You do not gain an
Ability without truly knowing how one will feel whilst gaining
The feedback from said ability. There is no result without work.
Are you going to continue? Are you ready to experience the burn
Of the seal? Or shall you crumple in light of the challenge delivered
To you?’


A small wave of uncertainty washed over the blonde as she looked at the book. Could she really put herself through stress and pain at the moment? She shook her head a bit, swallowing the thick film of saliva that coated her throat at the moment. She flipped the page of the book, and cursed loudly, her voice echoing off the wall. She brought her finger up to her face, staring at the paper cut that was forming there along her finger. Blood welled up to the surface and rolled down the side of her finger, dripping onto the book.

On the book, though, there were multiple droplets of blood spattered there. Most of them dried and brown now. The previously tricked, perhaps? A hiss one akin to steam came from the spot on the book and she brought her finger up to her mouth, placing the cut against her tongue. The measly little cut, though, was the least of her worries.

From her lap the book fell to the dusty ground, slipping underneath of the desk that she was sitting at. And she followed, much to her surprise. Not by her choice, of course, but the sudden and intense pain that sprang up in her body caused her to drop. It started out as a dull ache at the junction of her neck and her head, right along the jaw line. The skin burned a hot red color like sunburn. She raised her hand to the area, gasping like a fish out of water at the pain. She couldn’t touch it though. She was afraid to. It would bring her more pain.

Strangled sounds escaped her throat as she struggled with herself, grabbing onto the desk to keep from dropping down completely. Her fingers squeezed so tight they left indentations in the old wood. The only thing that she could hear was… the thudding of her heart in her ears and silence. The mocking silence in her head. Like someone was sitting there, shaking their head, and mouthing the words ‘I told you so’. Though, why? Why would she feel this way? Was there someone secretly in the room with her? She didn’t recall anyone else being here. So it must’ve been herself.. Herself, or something like a ghost.

And she wasn’t crazy enough to believe in ghosts, contrary to popular belief.

Nails drug down the wood as she made her descent to the floor. She held her arms out in front of her and lowered herself. If she had to go down, she wasn’t going to let any part of her smack into the floor. The thought of hurting the baby scared her. It made her head hurt as she thought about it. The burning pain seared her skin, and the entire left side of her neck, along her jaw, even going down to a small part of her shoulder was a burning red color like someone had just laid her against a stove. Accompanying any burn, her skin was beginning to peel from the area.

And that was the last thing she felt before nothing. Dark. The fuzzy depths of unconsciousness. She hoped that nothing would happen to her. And that was the last thing she thought before just floating there. In the waiting room. Like purgatory.

The world was a misty fog outside, the outside barely visible due to the amounts of fog that blanketed the village. Though, she was safely tucked away, inside. In an unfamiliar room to her. The room had pale yellows, pinks, and other flowery looking colors adorning it. She wandered around the room now, fingers tracing the childlike wallpaper with fascination. She had that confused, tourist look to her as she touched anything that happened to come into her path. She half stumbled over toys and little picture books that were on the ground as she walked.

Turning to look at the door, there was a confused look held on her face. She had locked eyes with the strangest purple eyes that she’d ever seen. They rocked her on her wobbly foundations, and she sat down heavily on the bed behind her. And in plain sight, a little girl, sliver haired, and the palest skin one could imagine stood in the doorway. A small grin broke out across the little girl’s face and she skipped over, giggling. ”Aw, Mommy, why do you look so surprised?!”

Tamashi made a shocked sound, feeling herself bounded into by the little girl, who nuzzled into her chest. She wanted to speak, or something. Though, this was kind of a scary feeling. It made her heart thump hard in her chest. Was she really dreaming about the little girl that she was supposed to be having in about eight months? It made her head hurt.

”Say something!” Came the pouty demand, but she just couldn’t. She could only stare and look a little in awe. ”Why won’t you talk to mee?” The little one sniffled, reaching up and tangling her fingers in Tamashi’s shirt. She pulled herself closer to the kunoichi, burying her face into the woman’s neck. ”Do I have to make you talk?” She whispered darkly. And it was no longer childish anymore. It was creepy, something that you’d only hear in something like The Exorcist, like the Devil had gotten a hold of the young girl’s very soul.

And she did say ‘something’, but it was more like a pained scream. Nothing really… coming out the way it should have. She felt sharp fangs sink into her neck, where it had burned so much outside of her dreams. And they wouldn’t let go, and all Tamashi could do was scream.. And pray. Scream and hope that someone would hear her.

A pained fog was spray painted over her vision, causing black dots to appear, poking holes in the little dream that she was having. She shoved the tiny girl away, who wasn’t so tiny anymore. She tilted her head up, her head lolling a bit. She felt bloodstained lips press against her ear, breathing warmly into it. She saw a darker shade of silver hair in her vision now, and very familiar feeling hands wrapped around her neck. ”Tamashi, give yourself to me.” A very hot and heavy, familiar voice breathed in her ear. She almost lost herself..

”God, no.”

A ragged breath escaped the girl’s lips as she sat up, in a very familiar place. She shoved herself up in the bed, holding her head. It was like having a hangover, and she was back home, in her own bed. How did that even happen? She shook her head a bit, blowing out a breath. She felt so awkward. Bone-chilling dreams always did that to a person. It messed them up pretty bad until they forgot about it.

She reached up, touching her neck where all the pain had started and a small, startled gasp escaped her lips. She immediately wrenched her hand away from the spot on her neck, scrambling to her feet and walking over to the mirror.

Wonder and confusion touched her face as she leaned closer, hand hovering over the newly formed, what looked like a tattoo. She pressed her forehead close to the mirror, tracing it gingerly with her index finger. It didn’t hurt anymore.. It was just really sensitive. She recalled that it had been the same phoenix-dragon design that she had seen in the book. The book…

Tossing her head to the side, her eyes locked on the book, just laying there on the floor.