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Post by luciacervantes on Oct 13, 2009 2:07:15 GMT -5
001. NAME• Lucia Isabella Cervantes
002. NICKNAME• Luce.
003. AGE• Twenty.
004. BIRTHDATE• January 24, 1989
005. WHERE YOU LIVE?• Los Angeles, California. New York City, New York. Las Vegas, Nevada.
001. YOUR FACE• Hanna Beth
002. HAIR• Lucia's hair resembles the shiny feathers of a crow. It might look shabby, rough, and tousled, but when brushed and touched with gentle fingers, it's actually pretty soft. The original style is curly, thanks to her mother, but she scalds it enough with the straighting iron to destroy the natural waves. It hangs in layers from her off-center seam, her bangs reaching for her jaw line, as the rest traces her nape, and drags along her bust.
003. EYES• Her eyes literally resemble a blizzard. In the circular pools remains a gorgeous dodger blue, but its luster seems drawn away from the icy flecks that dabble it. A cobalt ring, like the ocean during a storm, surrounds the iris in a thick halo that enhances the color all the more.
004. HIEGHT• 5'6"
005. WEIGHT• 127.3lbs
006. BODY MODS• At a young age, Lucia had her ears pierced at the lobes. Yes, she was one of those toddler babies clinging to the chair and screaming out an awkward scene before the needles even struck their mark. So she lived with the quaint little sterling silver studs for a while. Then upon her sixteenth birthday, she managed to purchase a duo of new piercings, higher along the lobe. Now with four piercings, she contemplates more in the near future. With it, she considers tattoos, but since it will be permanent, she wants to definitely be positive on the design she wants. Till then, she enjoys just marking up her forearms in pen.
007. FASHION/STYLE• Lucia is not one of those girly-girls who just stands there and stirs up pointless drama. She doesn't think she's gorgeous enough to run for homecoming queen, and she definitely doesn't see herself becoming the next big comedian. She hates gossip, but likes talking in normal conversations. She can be sparky, and she can be a sweetheart, it's basically a game of spin the dial just to see which one you'd get. Her fashion definitely reflects the personality she conceals. She adores the absence of color, meaning when shopping, she's not going to head straight for the blinding pinks, and the happy yellows. Instead, she'll direct her feet toward the black section. Yes, she will wear colors, like blue denims, rainbow socks, maybe even a deep pink tank top, but at least one article must be black. This would include a jewelry piece, a wristband, etc..
001. LIKES•
→ raindrops
→ road trips
→ the quarter moon
→ astrology
→ hot chocolate
→ rocky road ice cream
→ late night movie thrillers
→ music--preferably oldies--
→ solitude
→ men
002. DISLIKES•
→ repetition
→ loud noises
→ jealousy
→ excessive drinking
→ hangovers
→ starting conversations
→ awkward moments
→ narcissists
→ 'chick flicks'
→ the rev of an engine
→ gossip
003. FEARS•
→ heights
→ scorpions
→ spiders
→ complete darkness
→ abandonment
→ losing control
004. STRENGTHS•
→ integrity
→ creativity
→ open-mindedness
→ prudence
→ self-control.
005. WEAKNESSES•
→ lacking social intelligence
→ undiplomatic
→ nonspiritual
→ a follower
→ bares a low vitality
006. ODDITIES•
→ has a bad smoking habit
→ chews at the inside of her mouth
→ cracks her fingers
→ nibbles her cuticles
→ tilts her head to the side when asking questions
007. ORIENTATION• Dreaming of a Prince Charming.
008. SPECIFIC MORALS•
→ 'Try before you trust'
→ 'Do unto others as you would do unto them'
009. PERSONALITY OVERVIEW• Lucia is extremely dependent on no one but herself. She is her own best friend, as those blatant parents encouraged her to believe. She can do her own stunts, meaning that she’s a little too hot-headed on occasion to ask for help. Well, unless of course it’s something she really can’t handle on her own. This includes her: ‘When there’s something to be gained, let’s do it!’ attitude. Lucia won’t touch a subject unless it includes her, and most likely would result in some beneficial prize at the end.
Now, Lucia is rather a wild child, but wild doesn’t mean she’s a party-girl, downing the booze and sucking the face of some random man. Wild as in she’s not the type of girl most people are used to. She doesn’t like those bright summer dresses, nor the extreme layers of make-up caked on her face. Lucia wrestles and rolls in the dirt like any other boy. Of course, the trait of that girl inside does seem to pop out on occasion.
Lucia was genetically engineered with the want of succession. Once she’s put her mind to something, she has to succeed, or her world just falls to bits. Whether it’s at a game, to even the tiniest little puzzle, she needs to get it done, and done correctly. That’s that. Lucia is also very straight forward about her opinions, which makes most people think she is arrogant. This trait does tend to exacerbate her sarcasm, which only appears when provoked. Although, whether or not her opinion is asked for, she’ll give it, as ‘honesty is the best policy’—isn’t it? Don't want to hear the truth, it's probably the best idea to not ask for her opinion.
Lucia is a girl you can trust to keep that secret. She's extremely trustworthy amongst friends, and lovers. When she makes the commitment, she's devoted to fulfilling the desires of either herself, or a companion. This also plays into her dedication toward tasks. Her goals in life are the most important to her, and always seem to come first. She is receptive to the ideas and opinions of others, and though she might not always take the advice given, she'll at least lend an ear. It's a trait she received from her upbringing and changed for her own pleasure.
001. PARENT ONE• Joseph Mark Cervantes, Auto Mechanic, 53. (Father)
002. PARENT TWO• Emily Ann Parker, Unemployed, 38. (Step-Mother)
003. SIBLINGS• Vincent James Cervantes, Unemployed, 27.
004. PETS• Spook, Bombay Cat, 4.
005. HISTORY OVERVIEW•
On a bright, chilly morning of January 24, 1989, a whiny baby was brought into the world. Wrapped in pink, they named it Lucia. Together, Joseph and Amelia Cervantes raised the baby alongside the then toddler, Vincent. A family of four, seemingly happy and perfect. Then days began to become rough, Joseph was losing business left and right, and eventually had to dip into the family savings. Amelia was falling into depression, and resorted to cigarettes, while the children grew almost alone, together.
Years passed and the days seemed endless of misery, and the everlasting vows of marriage had lost their meaning. Upon the second birthday of the little Lucia, Amelia filed for divorce, and left the lives of her two children, and once beloved husband. The family fell apart further as Joseph turned to alcohol, and the nine year old Vincent was left to take care of himself and his sister. It wasn't until the neighbors complained of a rowdy and drunk man outside their home, that the neglected kids had been discovered. With the social worker invading their lives, Joseph snapped from his depression, sought out a temporary rehab, and regained custody of his beloved children. Life became the usual, and together, Joseph and Vincent raised Lucia the best they could.
Lucia had entered the age of puberty, and without a feminine influence, knew nothing of what was happening to her body. So she began covering her blossoming chest in thick sweaters, and believed herself to be an awkward child. Then entered Emily Parker, Joseph's first girlfriend since the divorce. Needless to say, she was pretty young and rather ditsy. However, she proceeded to replace Amelia and aided the confused Lucia through the awkward time. Both the children failed to see what Joseph had seen in Emily, though. And tension built when she had joined the family.
Vincent grew up, old enough to leave the house and find his own life. However, Lucia remained bound to the chains of Joseph and Emily. Although she held a very good and close relationship with her father, Emily could never replace her true flesh and blood. Lucia couldn't get along with her step-mother, hard as she tried. However, things seemed to fall apart when history began repeating itself. Except, Emily was losing her jobs, and income became tight. She, already being an excessive smoker, influenced Lucia to start the habit, and it didn't help that Emily was her source of cigarettes. Joseph seemed ignorant to the alterations of his family, but worked plenty of overtime just to keep the family together. Emily, however, gave up looking for a job, although filled the air with plenty of lies of how a profession was hard to come by.
Lucia spent more time out, trying to find an escape from the chaos that was spurring at home.
 Yo', my name is CORINNE, and I've been the walking dead for EIGHTEEN years, and I've been grave robbing for EIGHT years, I dug up lovely Crimson Kiss by means of GOOGLE and adore it.
001. ANYTHING ELSE?• Currently, nothing. :]
002. ROLE PLAY SAMPLE•
She remembered looking at the sleek wood, polished and glazed with a lemony perfume. How the gleams of the overhead lights would illuminate the desk and pry her attention from the board. The teacher would always catch her drifting into her refuge of candy raindrops, licorice grass, chocolate rivers, gallivanting ponies, and the cuddliest of rabbits. Oh, she always wished it were reality, but whenever she would hear that damn teacher shriek his shining peach head off; She was settled back into her nightmare. Then again, she should have gotten used to it but still, “Ms. Carden, won’t you PLEASE join us back here on Earth?” got to her each time.
The High School bell was her savior; each day she would await its declaration of freedom. But that one day… it had seemed longer than the rest; The Lord was surely tantalizing her naive mind. She was seventeen, ripe and innocent as far as her parents knew. But no lie; She was a virgin, everything about her. Angela remained untouched and immune to the boys who merely wanted what she contained buried away beneath the armor of clothes. Her friends, if that is the noun she could properly use for such beastly girls, had all witnessed the beauty of romance and later dropped out in their Junior or Senior year due to unexpected pregnancies or a trip to juvenile hall. As she remembered it, High School wasn’t what her parents had described it as. Supposedly it should have been the best four years of her life, but with such destructive companions, trouble was her ally.
That day, the eve of her forsaken eighteenth birthday, was the worst of her pathetic existence. Cynthia, the oldest of the dwindling group that called themselves her friends, had called a party in her honor on Saturday. Nothing fancy, a simple barbecue in her backyard but Angela expected it to be the best ever. Cynthia surely was a doll, in her perspective, she was gorgeous. The rounded glasses added to her dimples as her mocha skin gleamed with bronze. Her oval peepers enhanced the emerald ring surrounding the jade of her iris which brought out her ruffled caramel hair; curled loosely in layers. She was far from popular, but she was Angela's best friend at the time nonetheless.
Now, Angela wasn’t Ms. Beauty Queen, through her own eyes, she was far from the Beauty School Drop Out. In all honesty, she wanted to become invisible and fake her death to erase herself from the beautiful planet. Her hair was that of copper, streaked with bleach to compare with the original models posted upon the Highlight Box. Her eyes were a strange sea green with the halo of royal blue usually enhanced with black mascara. Just a note, make-up wasn’t her obsession; obsession was reserved for the boys. Angela hadn’t time to watch her weight, though due to genetics, she rarely escaped the weight range of a hundred thirty-two, which she supposed was abnormal for the broad shouldered, five foot three, redheaded teenager.
Anyway, she didn’t doubt a minute that that day would leave her memories someday.
Cynthia and Angela had met up after school, by Cyn's locker, and Angie awaited directions to her house; the usual who, what, where, when, and why’s of the situation. “532 Prospect Street. This Saturday,” She replied in her bubbly tone screeching with giggles in volume. Angela could swear Cynthia hardly understood the meaning of ugly, anger, gruesome, and evil; the innocent senior remained a pure angel at mind and heart. Always a smile where ever she went.
Angela remembered going home that day listening to the CD player that managed to retain life through bashings to the ground and having boxes from moving be tossed upon its mechanics. The song she was preoccupied with escaped her, but still that is far from the point. The point to the rambling is that Angela was normal… well, the most normal she could be.
Lucas, Angie's older brother, had picked her up in their Dad’s Honda civic a few blocks from the house. “Hey Angie, you still have that twenty bucks? Can I borrow it for the night? Please?” He always changed the price that she allowed him to take but his greeting managed to stay the same. Personally, she wouldn’t have minded if he had said, “Hey twerpette, where’s my money?”. At least it would have been different for a change.
Once again, Angela was manipulated by Lucas and he haggled thirty dollars from her wallet. How he managed that, she would never know. In return, he promised a ride for the next month; apparently for saving his butt for a date. Either way, his date canceled on him for a jock, though Angie was able to sneak her money from him anyhow. Plus, he still kept his promise, which she took advantage of quite frequently. Her first ride included the travel to the local mall where she examined groceries for their Dad. Lucas, however, was preoccupied with one of the cashier ladies and had begun his ever popular flirting.
Angela was still curious as to how she met her new friend, but at least she received his companionship, compared to the others that night. She remembered standing in the canned goods section, examining the beans available for cheap. He had introduced his presence with the common question of, “Hey, haven’t I seen you somewhere?” She had never been quizzed on the matter, but there was always a first for everything. “No… can’t say I’ve seen you around,” Was her reply. Pathetic in her eyes, she simply went back to reading the dates of the expired bean cans. Still, the stranger refused to allow the conversation to fall so dully.
The man shoved his hand through the assortments of cans and plucked one out, handing it her way. She examined it with gratitude to find it had yet to rot.
“Really, I swear I’ve seen you. Ah, forgive me, my manners have escaped me. My name is Dimitri Alumit,” The character bowed politely with a tender scrape of his plump lips to her stolen hand. It was interesting to witness as neither man she had ever met used such manners to fulfill a positive outcome. “I’m Angela,” she had nearly forgotten how to speak whilst flustered in her dreams. Her eyes resumed on him for the first since their conversation had begun. Auburn curls were oozing from his skull, draping over his temples while merging with the unnatural braid dancing down his spine. His eyes, oh truly they were the secret to his mesmerizing spell, churned the purest of emerald to match the coat snuggling his robust torso. A rectangular patch of almond whiskers gathered together to create a managed strip at the center of his chin. Dimitri’s complexion was the purest of caramel, his arched brows curious for a surname, she guessed. “Carden.”
Dimitri tucked his paws away into his onyx khakis’ as his steady lip quivered into a pleased sneer. “Well, its truly a pleasure to meet you Angela. I must beg for an apology in advance,” His rich baritone crooned like menacing poison through the intoxicating air. “Apology?” Angie interrupted, placing the canned food into her basket. “Yes. I’m afraid you are involved now. Well, I suppose you must trust me now; such a shame, I had hoped for a companion.” In his words, there was a secret of security, but not enough to trust him as he wanted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Angela retorted while making her way passed him, and still the leach lagged behind like a leashed puppy. “Not a problem, he should be arriving any moment,” Now his comments were haunting. “Whose he?”
She dared to ask such a question.
Her destiny was direct from that day on. Invisible doors to futuristic pathways were locked, barred, and burned into her dreams that would never progress further from her subconscious. With that question, Angela was standing in a mirror, asking herself, examining the ‘her’ that would never come to be. She was a puppet. Nothing more than a marionette chosen to dance and wriggle by the strings of her creator.
On cue, by the look on Dimitri’s face, he had arrived. Angela faintly remembered the next events; dulled out screams of a crowd, the blur of a pistol ringing through the air, a shadow engulfing her vision and a dwindling pain till she willingly collapsed to rest.
Dimitri had a lot to apologize for.
She would hold it against him; he owed her sympathy, pity, whatever he wished; but that foolish instinct of kindness? Angela hardly wanted that. Did she even hold him liable? Yes. And she did with a fiery passion. She hated his guts. To this day, she hates him. Selfish? She really couldn't care any less. He could rot in hell for what he had yanked her into. People have told her since, "Don’t hate him. It's your fault you trusted him…", but that’s just it. She trusted him, if only for a second, but she still hated him.
She hated him for making her trust him.
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