Post by davina on Jan 29, 2012 0:48:17 GMT -5
DAVINALYNNEAMES !
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
RAINBOW SHIRTS RIBBED IN ACID LOVE
[/color]OUR LIVES ARE RIBBED IN PLASTIC LOVE, HERE I AM, HERE I AM, IT'S NOT JUST YOU
SHE LOVED ME TOO, HERE I AM, HERE I AM, IT'S NOT JUST YOU, SHE LOVED ME TOO
HERE I AM, HERE I AM, GONNA TAKE YOU[/center][/FONT][/SIZE]
nicknames: Davey, Vina, V
age: twenty-eight
gender: female
role: local
sexuality: straight
played by: Kate Beckinsale[/ul][/SIZE][/FONT]
TO THE END OF TOMORROW, I WILL TAKE
[/B][/color]YOU TO THE END OF MY WORLD, I'M GONNA FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT TO BELIEVE IN
MYSELF, I'M GONNA FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT TO RELEASE MYSELF, RELEASE MYSELF
IT WENT ON AND ON, IT WENT ON AND ON[/center][/FONT][/SIZE]
Soft, brown curls envelope a face that catches most off guard. Under the long tresses hide a pair of eyes that could pierce the soul and resurrect it in just one glance. High cheek bones lead to a small button of a nose and full lips that pull back to reveal a bright smile. Her insecurities about her body still linger, as she’ll claim any bit of her face as the favorite part of her, physically. The answer about the one thing she hates will always remain the same, though: her ears. Silly things.
When it comes to her fashion sense, she’s pretty fashion forward. There is no way she will be caught dead in the streets in a runway costume from Paris, but the girl knows how to dress. Even at home, she’d rather be wearing a t-shirt and panties than even bare the thought of sweatpants. The house robe is optional.
personality: Depending on what kind of a day you catch her on, Davina’s temperament can go one of two ways. She used to be a very happy person. Every once in a while, this happy persona will rear its head. Back before the divorce, she was a blast to be around. Nothing got her down, and it was hard to disturb or upset her. When others were hurting, she’d do her best to cheer them up. A smile was usually slapped across her face. It wasn’t uncommon for it to be accompanied by a laugh, either. Even in the most serious of moments she’d find something to say in order to lighten the situation. It was a helpful quality to have considering her career of photography; have you ever tried to make a ticked off kid smile?
As of late, though, that’s not Davina. She’s sad. She’s sour. There are a string of negative connotations that could be used to describe her demeanor. It’s odd and it feels foreign for her to smile and laugh. Most of the time her laugh will ring through her apartment while she’s there, alone, watching romantic comedies. In public, it‘s a good sign for others to hear her giggle. She tries to avoid certain subjects; especially those subjects that bring up memories of Eoin. She still loves the man, and it’s hard to convey hatred when your heart feels otherwise.
Still, it’s not as if she’s never happy. That would be impossible. She’ll smile at a joke or grin at a comment. She’s changed, though. She’s not the one with the sarcastic or light remarks. Her witty comments have dwindled. She doesn’t much care if others are hurt or sad. It’s always best to avoid those kind of people when one is already hurt or sad herself. What’s the use wallowing in self-pity? Davey doesn’t know, but she’s doing a fine job of treading in it.
likes: white roses, acoustic songs, black and white photos, mixed drinks, being barefoot, Audrey Hepburn’s face, cooking, the smell of freshly cut grass, when it rains and there are no clouds in the sky, sunsets, cats, down blankets, cuddling, the color red, re-decorating, strangers that make eye contact and acknowledge your presence on the street or in a store, house plants, and flat-screen televisions
dislikes: crappy windshield wipers, cold weather, toe socks, public restrooms, over-crowded elevators, scream-o music, shop-a-holics, dark hallways, tomatoes, commercials, manual cars, having to read instructions, huge stores, people that wear too much perfume/cologne, reality television, man-made tanning, heights, people that use their cell phone while driving, houses painted blue, and the court house (those people are so intimidating for no reason)
strengths: skilled communicator, keen eye for detail,, can BS her way out of nearly any situation, cooking lasagna, baking cheesecakes, and tolerant
weaknesses: emotional, easily jealous, compulsive (when it comes to her own belongings; not others‘), insecure, Italian crème coffee, romantic movies, and chocolate
[/ul][/SIZE][/FONT]
TO THE END OF TOMORROW, I WILL TAKE
[/B][/color]YOU TO THE END OF MY WORLD, I'M GONNA FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT TO BELIEVE IN
MYSELF, I'M GONNA FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT TO RELEASE MYSELF, RELEASE MYSELF
IT WENT ON AND ON, IT WENT ON AND ON[/center][/FONT][/SIZE]
father: Robert Steele
siblings: One younger sister, 24
significant other (s): Eoin Ames, husband, in the process of a divorce
pets: None
hometown: Redoak, Iowa
brief history: Growing up in a small town wasn‘t really that hard. You played in the street until dark, and you‘d better wash up before dinner. You‘d go to school, do your homework, have dinner with the family, and then talk with your best friend on the phone until it was lights out. As she grew older, Davina started to get out more. She would disappear from home on the weekend to go on short adventures with her friends. She wasn‘t your stereotypical girl next door, but she hadn‘t been a horrible child.
Once graduation rolled around, Davina wanted out of that dead end town. Her grades were good enough to get decent scholarships to different colleges. There, she met a boy. He wasn‘t a student, though. On her 21st birthday, Davey waltzed into a bar and saw a dashing smile coming from the other side of the countertop. He was dark. He was mysterious. Most of all, by the end of the night, she couldn‘t stop telling him how attractive he was. After the embarrassment, Davina found herself becoming a patron of the bar. Her butt would be planted on a stool and she wouldn‘t move for hours, just talking to that cute bartender.
One night, Vina wanted to be daring. Her friends had told her to do it. It was time to nut up and grow a pair. She found herself on a small stage, drink in hand, singing some ridiculous song about having a crush on somebody. He got the message, too. After a few dates and a handful more of embarrassing moments, the two found themselves to be a couple. They got married once she graduated college, and things seemed peachy. And they were… for a while.
They learned a little too late just how different they were. He didn’t want kids, yet. He thought it was perfectly fine that she made more money than him. What was with her ‘man provides’ nonsense, anyway? Apparently her values were ancient. He didn’t get it. He just didn’t. He would come home in the wee hours of the morning stinking of alcohol and cheap perfume. It made her mind wander. They were in a rough patch. Was he cheating? Should she cheat, too, just to get back at him?
Fights were endless. The happy moments just seemed to be happening less and less frequently as time went on. Eventually, the threat of divorce became real. Now, she has the papers tucked into the top drawer of her writing desk. The writing desk she uses to fuel her mind and put her degree to some use. She keeps working her nine to five job as a photographer at the local studio just to get by, and she goes home to a lonely apartment with nothing but a pillow to hold at night. It’s a tragedy, really.
That is… It‘s a tragedy until she wakes up at three in the morning, drives over to his place, and ambushes him. Then, it‘s just sad. He‘ll ask why she‘s there. She‘ll blame him for her unhappiness and their failed marriage. He‘ll try to calm her down. She‘ll just get even angrier. They‘ll have a lovely time in the sheets, and then she‘ll wake up and leave him without even sharing as much as a cup of coffee.
Like stated before, it‘s just sad.
It‘s been a year since the two separated. She still has her friends. She still goes on dates; granted, most of those dates are found through dating sites. Every morning she wakes up, thinking things are going to change. She‘ll break free that day. Almost every night she‘ll dream of who she wants to be in the future. It will happen, someday. All a person has is their hope, right?[/ul][/SIZE][/FONT]
SAY, HERE I AM, IT WENT ON AND ON, IT WENT
[/B][/color]ON AND ON, LOUDER AND LOUDER, IT'LL BUILD AND FADE, AND SOON YOUR LOVE WILL TURN
TO HATE, SHE SAID HERE I AM, SHE SAID HERE I AM, LOUDER AND LOUDER IT'LL BUILD AND FADE
FADE, AND SOON YOUR LOVE WILL TURN TO HATE[/center][/FONT][/SIZE][/B]
other characters here: None
best way to reach you: PM
RP sample:
What was it about the woman that drew Kae to stare? It's not like Kae was a lesbian, so the picture didn't intrigue her in any sexual sense. Likewise, she didn't care about shades, stroke thickness, or anything physicals artists like painters, sketchers, or even sculptors cared about. All Kae cared about was expressed emotions, and this painting seemed to catch her imagination.
"...There's no need to tell me you're here for a story, by the way. I can tell you're a writer by your articulate stuttering."
Kae was ripped away from her thoughts about the two-dimensional woman in front of her and had to listen to Killian's smart ass remarks. She just sighed; this was going to happen eventually. It sucked he got it out of the way early. It meant he would probably keep it up longer. This was a bad idea...
"Maybe you should get a dictionary, first though? Just a suggestion..."
Was that an insult? Kae's face contorted to reflect her shock and anger. First impressions were everything, and even though this wasn't the first time Kae had ever seen Killian... the first conversation was an ice breaker, and he'd just sent ice chunks floating down the river. They weren't gentle; they were the kind that would destroy farm lands and river-side cabins. Did he even know what he'd just said to her?
As a writer, Kae's vocabulary was very important to her. All of the words trapped in her brain were like precious treasures. She would only use them when nothing else fit, and then tuck them back in their nice little corner again. For him to insult her like that, attacking her vocabulary.. Honestly, it really pissed her off. Killian, however, wasn't one to impress by proving him wrong. Not directly, anyway. He always found a way to turn words and twist your arm with his own until you just gave up. Kae was determined to fight for this one, though.
"If you were me, what would be your inspiration for a piece like this?"
"Love." Kae said, without even thinking. She looked at Killian, almost glaring as she continued. "And I say that as my inspiration because a person as callous and with as many loose morals as you have isn't capable of such an emotion. .. or so I've heard." It was meant to be a sting, and Kae honestly didn't care if she got results from it or not. He probably couldn't even feel emotion, let alone express it.
She walked up to the other woman, her arms crossed, inspecting the piece. "If I were you, only with thinner skin and a warmer heart, I'd say whoever she stands for.. I love her." With a sigh, Kae looked over at Killian quickly.
"The lines aren't as dark as they could be for her outline. It's like you're trying to capture the softness of her skin; the slight shading at the edges is the glow from the sunlight pouring from a distant window..." Kae looked away from him and down at her own arms as she continued. "Making her whole body shimmer when she moves." There was a slight pause before Kae looked at the painting again. She concentrated, trying to make the painting as real as possible to her. It was like an illustration in a book, and Kae felt the need to tell her story.
"With her being naked under a sheet or blanket, that shows that she's an object of your desire. And her eyes..." Gesturing with her hand, Kae stared at the woman's eyes. They were large, expressive, and they showed... "You're hers, too. However, there's pain because of it. It's as if there's some sort of distance between the two of you."
It all hit home too much with Kae. It reminded her of Liam. She knew he liked art, but the two didn't talk about it much. Did he ever draw her? If so, how often? How did he depict her? Did they show as much as this woman did? Did they tell a story?
"She wants to be with you, too. That's why she's holding the sheet so loosely, and so low. She's waiting. And even though it seems as if you're inches away, she misses you. She misses you as if you were thousands of miles..." All of the sudden, Kae stopped. She couldn't continue. There was a lump in her throat as she thought of Liam. So many nights were spent expressing things like this with him. But with both of their schedules, she hadn't heard from him lately. She missed him, too.
Kae had to break focus. She had to break contact. It almost hurt as she dropped her eyes from the woman and to the floor. This was embarrassing. Killian seemed like the kind of man that would feed off weakness, and the last thing Kae needed to do was show it. She cleared her throat and looked at Killian. "As if you were thousands of miles away."
All of the sudden, she felt a bit light-headed. There was an ache behind her eyes, and her jaw tightened as she tried to keep deadpan. "That's just my writer point of view, though," with emphasis on the word 'writer'.
"...There's no need to tell me you're here for a story, by the way. I can tell you're a writer by your articulate stuttering."
Kae was ripped away from her thoughts about the two-dimensional woman in front of her and had to listen to Killian's smart ass remarks. She just sighed; this was going to happen eventually. It sucked he got it out of the way early. It meant he would probably keep it up longer. This was a bad idea...
"Maybe you should get a dictionary, first though? Just a suggestion..."
Was that an insult? Kae's face contorted to reflect her shock and anger. First impressions were everything, and even though this wasn't the first time Kae had ever seen Killian... the first conversation was an ice breaker, and he'd just sent ice chunks floating down the river. They weren't gentle; they were the kind that would destroy farm lands and river-side cabins. Did he even know what he'd just said to her?
As a writer, Kae's vocabulary was very important to her. All of the words trapped in her brain were like precious treasures. She would only use them when nothing else fit, and then tuck them back in their nice little corner again. For him to insult her like that, attacking her vocabulary.. Honestly, it really pissed her off. Killian, however, wasn't one to impress by proving him wrong. Not directly, anyway. He always found a way to turn words and twist your arm with his own until you just gave up. Kae was determined to fight for this one, though.
"If you were me, what would be your inspiration for a piece like this?"
"Love." Kae said, without even thinking. She looked at Killian, almost glaring as she continued. "And I say that as my inspiration because a person as callous and with as many loose morals as you have isn't capable of such an emotion. .. or so I've heard." It was meant to be a sting, and Kae honestly didn't care if she got results from it or not. He probably couldn't even feel emotion, let alone express it.
She walked up to the other woman, her arms crossed, inspecting the piece. "If I were you, only with thinner skin and a warmer heart, I'd say whoever she stands for.. I love her." With a sigh, Kae looked over at Killian quickly.
"The lines aren't as dark as they could be for her outline. It's like you're trying to capture the softness of her skin; the slight shading at the edges is the glow from the sunlight pouring from a distant window..." Kae looked away from him and down at her own arms as she continued. "Making her whole body shimmer when she moves." There was a slight pause before Kae looked at the painting again. She concentrated, trying to make the painting as real as possible to her. It was like an illustration in a book, and Kae felt the need to tell her story.
"With her being naked under a sheet or blanket, that shows that she's an object of your desire. And her eyes..." Gesturing with her hand, Kae stared at the woman's eyes. They were large, expressive, and they showed... "You're hers, too. However, there's pain because of it. It's as if there's some sort of distance between the two of you."
It all hit home too much with Kae. It reminded her of Liam. She knew he liked art, but the two didn't talk about it much. Did he ever draw her? If so, how often? How did he depict her? Did they show as much as this woman did? Did they tell a story?
"She wants to be with you, too. That's why she's holding the sheet so loosely, and so low. She's waiting. And even though it seems as if you're inches away, she misses you. She misses you as if you were thousands of miles..." All of the sudden, Kae stopped. She couldn't continue. There was a lump in her throat as she thought of Liam. So many nights were spent expressing things like this with him. But with both of their schedules, she hadn't heard from him lately. She missed him, too.
Kae had to break focus. She had to break contact. It almost hurt as she dropped her eyes from the woman and to the floor. This was embarrassing. Killian seemed like the kind of man that would feed off weakness, and the last thing Kae needed to do was show it. She cleared her throat and looked at Killian. "As if you were thousands of miles away."
All of the sudden, she felt a bit light-headed. There was an ache behind her eyes, and her jaw tightened as she tried to keep deadpan. "That's just my writer point of view, though," with emphasis on the word 'writer'.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
this application template was made by LADY AND THE TRAMP !? of CAUTION 2.O
do not steal this template, or remove the credit, whatsoever.
also, out of respect, do not change ANYTHING at all.
lyrics credited to tegan and sara.
do not steal this template, or remove the credit, whatsoever.
also, out of respect, do not change ANYTHING at all.
lyrics credited to tegan and sara.
