HOLLOWAY, scarlet

[scarlet]

SCARLET CLAUDIA HOLLOWAY

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Let's let out words define this situation every time, and everything
you say can feed this black hole. Let's let our words escape, a
congregation with no faith. They're going strong on hatred and remorse

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Hey there, glad you could join us. So first thing's first, what do we call you?[/color][/font][/b]
My name is Scarlet Claudia Holloway, but most people call me Scar. My name comes from my grandmother, Scarlet Jean Dollet-- but, my middle name comes from my town's "saint" Saint Claudia, who... Was really just a glorified murderer who did it in the name of God, I hate my middle name. I hate that town.
Okay, got it. And how old are you, if you don't mind me asking?[/color][/font][/b]
I'm sixteen years old, I was born May thirteenth, so that would make me a taurus... Correct? I don't know much about horoscopes.
Mhm and, now don't take this the wrong way, but are you a guy or a girl?[/color][/font][/b]
Uhm, I mean there are very effeminate males, but I'm a female.
And are you straight, gay or...?[/color][/font][/b]
I used to have a natural curiosity when it came to same sex relationships, but I've realized since then it's not my cup of tea.
Have we met before? You look so familiar![/color][/font]
A lot of people tell me on a frequent basis that I look like Kerti Pahk, but I have no idea whom she is.

Excellent. Now, for the benefit of our readers, how would you describe your appearance?[/color][/font][/b]
I'm small-- very petite, I'm only four feet, ten inches. I'm one hundred and ten pounds... I have long blonde hair, that's never really been cut short. It's often either curly or braided. A lot of people say I remind them of a doll due to my small appearance. I have large splotchy wine-looking birthmark on the side of my hip. It doesn't resemble anything other than a stain, and it covers a good amount of my side. I also have vertical scars on my wrists from a failed suicide attempt when I suffered one of my many hallucinations.
And if a stranger had to spot you in a crowd what should they look out for?[/color][/font][/b]
Very feminine clothing, dresses, leggings, wedges and occasionally boots. I design my own clothes, so I take a lot of pride in what I make. I don't really have any piercings or tattoos, just my ears-- I'm petrified of needles. I'm often considered a 'indie' chick? I don't really understand, but it's cool... I suppose. I have no idea what people would look out for when it comes to me.
What's the first thing this stranger would notice about you?[/color][/font][/b]
I feel like being so small makes me stand out, and that might be what a stranger first notices. I have what people seemed to call 'doe eyes', and I've always loved my blue eyes-- they have a hint of green in them and they are just really cool.
Let's just say this stranger decides to observe you for a bit - any habits or quirks they might notice?[/color][/font][/b]
You'd probably notice the fact I rub my arm a lot, and I tend to look around like a mouse wondering where the cat is. Uh, I don't really twirl my hair or anything, but I bite my lip a lot and twitch sometimes. I have no idea, I've never really watched myself before.
So this creepy stranger, what would their first impression of your character be?[/color][/font][/b]
They'd find me boring, I'm sure. I'm friendly, and I try to be sweet as possible. Maybe they'd find me fake? Yeah, I think people would think I'm fake because I always seem so cheery. .

So, sport, you got any hobbies?[/color][/font][/b]
I used to run track before.... Um... Yeah. I don't want to talk about track. I sew my own clothing, and I bake a lot. I love it. That's about all I do, and occasionally take pictures of things..
Interesting! And what about the things you like the most?[/color][/font][/b]
I like a lot of things, the first and foremost being fashion-- It's a form of escapism for me, my favorite artists are Alexander McQueen, Vivienne Westwood, and Betsy Johnson. I love music too, all types really. I am a solid fan of tea, I find it really relaxing even though it has more caffeine than coffee.. I also am a fan of painting, and artistry. I'm a bookworm as well and often spend my time reading books by De Gaulle, Nietzsche, Machiavelli, Verne, and Palahniuk. I'm rather obsessed with other cultures, so I always take a big joy in learning about other countries' customs. I love singing, although I can't sing myself. Oh! I like animals too, no... I lied. I love animals.
And there's gotta be things you don't like too, right?[/color][/font][/b]
I hate Lavender Grove and everything that's ever come out of that town, myself included. I hate the 'Family of God', and I have a huge disdain for Father Sinclair. I want to say that I hate my mother, but really I just feel bad for her. I hate the atrocities my father has only spoken to me about, his sick fantasies of molding the flesh into an 'ideal'. I hate myself, and my illnesses. The monsters that are in my head, the way they cling to the people, I hate the hallucinations too. I really hate them. I dislike the fact that some of the staff think this is an act for attention, and I can't stand that Father Sinclair has come here multiple times to 'see' me. I hate Maine. .
Great! So are you keeping any secrets? Don't worry, I swear I won't tell.[/color][/font][/b]
No one knows that when I was in the church, when my mom was put into a mental facility-- Father Sinclair used to do really... Really bad things to me, I think maybe my dad had an idea, but he never talked about it. When I tried telling him, he wouldn't listen. Father Sinclair used to beat me, and... Enact his sick fantasies under the delusion 'God' asked him to do it. I was only thirteen, and... I couldn't protect myself. My other secret is that the medication they are giving me isn't working anymore, the monsters and the world they reside in keeps coming back-- especially at night. I tried to kill one of the monsters, but they through me in isolation. No Eyes is still following me too, at least he doesn't keep me alone. He doesn't protect me, but he assures me I'm not insane.
My lips are sealed. Now, what would you say is your best quality?[/color][/font][/b]
I've been told my best quality is that I'm very creative, and driven. When I put my mind to something, I see results.. Or at least I try to.. I try really hard, but sometimes... I just can't do it..
And your worst? C'mon, no one's perfect, kiddo.[/color][/font][/b]
I get overwhelmed easily, I get scared and I stumble over my words-- and I just... Freeze. I don't know, I'm constantly questioning myself and what's real. I'm... I'm really boring, and that's probably one of the biggest downfalls I have..

Now how about the other people in your life, let's talk family.[/color][/font][/b]
....My favorite subject, how did you know? You must be psychic. My family consists of my mother, Rose-- and my father Adrian... My mother was the organ player for the Family of God church. My father was a doctor... He still is, though I'm sure he'll be losing his license soon.
Any pets?[/color][/font][/b]
According to the church, animals lack souls--hence why they were put into the forms of beasts. So no. I would love to have a bulldog though.
You're doing great, just a few more questions. So where are you from?[/color][/font][/b]
I'm from Lavender Grove, Maine-- it's about three hours north of Bangor. It's two hours away from any civilization. I hate that place.
I see, cool. So how come you ended up at Hawthorne Academy?[/color][/font][/b]
Attempted suicide was the original reason I came here, but that was after No Eyes told me that was the only way the visions would stop... Then the "good doctor" claimed I suffered from psychotic disorder-- I think he called it delusional disorder. He claimed I had a various amount of other issues too, post traumatic stress disorder, sleep terror disorder. He said that my 'delusions' were brought on by the traumas I suffered. I told him about No Eyes, and he claimed that he didn't exist... The doctor didn't like it when I tried to kill one of the monsters, it bled like a human-- but it wasn't... They put me in isolation after that. I didn't do anything wrong...
Almost done. So anything else we should know about you?[/color][/font][/b]
Lavender Grove isn't a popular town, I mean you could probably find it on a map-- but the town is extremely xenophobic. You're born in that town, you'll die in that town. For that is the will of our God. That rhetoric may seem cheesy to you, but it's the creed that the Family of God believes. They believe Lavender Grove, is in fact Eden itself. Although my mother was labeled Eve after her tryst with an outsider-- wherein I was born.

As you can imagine, I was hated from the beginning.

This is where the good doctor thinks I got the delusion disorder from... My mom apparently has it, because she saw the same things I did... Except the citizens of Lavender Grove were normal to her. I however, was not. Father Sinclair saw this weakness in her, and claimed that the only way to purify me was to 'immerse me in holy water'-- so... She attempted to drown me in a claw bathtub. Dad came home and saved me. Mom was committed to Sterling Spires in Bangor. I haven't seen her since.

Dad and I stayed in Lavender Grove until I was fourteen. I used to stay at the church to 'better learn how to serve God' at my father's suggestion, claiming I was suffering from insanity. Father Sinclair said my insubordination would not be tolerated... I told him I wasn't crazy, and he beat me-- When I was fourteen... He... He.... I can't... I can't talk about that.... Not now. I'm sorry, I'm... I'm really sorry.

After.... We ended up leaving, moving to Portland. Dad began to grow... Stranger. He began to become obsessed with the human form, and my visions were getting worse. I met No Eyes in the hospital my dad worked at. He was a man whose face had worn away like sandpaper. He told me about my father, and what would happen... Like my father wanting me to get plastic surgery... Like when my father screamed that I needed a skin graph over my birthmark.

After a rather tumultuous argument with my father--- I found myself stuck in the otherworld again... That's what I started calling it... It looks like something out of an Alex Pardee painting. That's the only way I can really describe it.... The monsters came and were screaming at me in the hospital... I ran into one of the unpopulated surgery rooms-- and No Eyes told me the only way to make it stop was to take my own life... You should never do suicide attempts in a hospital. You'll never get what you want.

So that's how I ended up here.

Now it's time to find out about the player! What are we to call you?[/color][/font][/b]
Daze
And how long have you been on this planet?[/color][/font][/b]
19.
So how long have you been trapped in the wonderful world of roleplay?[/color][/font][/b]
4 years.
Any other creations of yours wandering this site?[/color][/font][/b]
N/A
And how did you find us?[/color][/font][/b]
Caution!
Is there anything else we should know?[/color][/font][/b]
About the player. Likes/dislikes/hobbies etc
And finally, the phrase that pays![/color][/font][/b]
cookiemonster

Bright green eyes watched the clock hit nine, the salon was officially closed- the last client leaving at about eight forty-five. The vintage styled salon looked as if it had came out in the nineteen thirties, all dusty gold and burgundy. It was something she took great pride in, and although some people didn’t understand why her salon looked like this—she did, and that was all that mattered. Locking the shop as she exited she glanced around. The nightlife of Berkland was teeming with the troubled people that made this town what it is.

As she walked down the main street of Berkland, the inhabitants that filled this place, and everything it represented—it reminded her urban Neverland. The idea made her laugh, would that mean Matthew was her Peter Pan? It made sense in a funny sort of way. Ah yes, Matthew Gray—the man that many labeled a psycho due to his various anger disorders, even Malcom wanted her to be worried around him. Not to trust him completely. Maybe it was how naïve she really was, but she felt comfortable around him--- even when he was burning an abandoned building down. The only time she was uneasy was when he got into fights.

That wasn’t just with him though, when anyone got into fights… She’d be the one wincing, waiting for it to be over. Taking care of the one who is injured and making sure their injuries weren’t too serious. Violence was never something that the blonde endorsed, maybe it was just because she couldn’t fight—or didn’t want to. Although she admired the strength in those that could, admired… Maybe even was a bit jealous. Glancing down some of the alleys, she saw the junkies—the dealers, the whores and the pimps getting ready for another evening full of debauchery and destruction.

It was strange really; she never got heavily involved—even though her closest friends were always out every night. Here she was just heading down to the beach. Not intending to swim, but to let her sore feet soak in the water. The only reason she still wore heels was due to the broken beer bottles and trash that littered the streets. She didn’t look like she belonged in this town, even with her fishtail braid and cloche hat. She looked like she belonged in some fashion Mecca like New York or Los Angeles… Maybe Paris, but she didn’t know the language at all.

The cool breeze flew from the waterfront, telling the eighteen year old she was closer than she thought. The four feet, ten inch girl thought about what her friends’ plans were. All of them were night owls, and she was the one who was always there to make sure they didn’t get raped, or injured… or possibly died. The idea of losing those she’d become extremely close to in the past two years frightened her greatly, she’d all ready lost her parents’ love, their respect. She was an only child so she got all the unfiltered emotion. She could almost recall the divorce, almost—the memory had faded with time.

It brought more problems than it solved though, really; her father becoming a shell of what he once was, before slowly losing his grip on reality. Living on the oceanfront of Boston, the salty air brought memories most unkind to her. The argument before she left, when he claimed he was just fixing her. She shook her head absent mindedly as her dainty hands rubbed her temple. She wasn’t that girl anymore, but she still could feel her father’s disappointment. Slipping of the five inch heels as she reached the sand, she carried them in her hand as she got close to the water.

The pale girl found herself sitting on the shore, her skirt was moved up slightly to make sure it wouldn’t get wet as the water covered her sore feet. Scarlet couldn’t tell precisely when she realized she hated the fact that she had to wear heels every day, but she knew there had to be a good reason for her to not—like if she ripped the tendon that went along the bottom of your foot. She knew it was close, any day now she’d feel it. Her weak ankle hated it, and due to a full day of wearing heels often jammed or cracked. Many times she collapsed when it happened, due to her muscles going limp for a few seconds.

Here though, with the moon and stars giving her company—Scarlet felt comfortable, content even. Her black rimmed eyes watching the water lap at the shore before being pulled back again. Setting her black hat next to her purse and heels, she felt eyes on her. Glancing around, she smiled as she saw a very familiar ebony haired male wandering the beach.

“Hey Mat!” She called out with a sweet smile, not bothering to get up.

Application template made by CERISE @ Caution 2.0.
Credit for the lyrics goes to Jessie J and Christina Milian.
Do not steal or I'll be forced to set the gummie bears on
you to gnaw your fingers off. For reals, yo.

[sincerely yours staff]