Post by evelyn on Jun 15, 2009 8:16:53 GMT -5
E V E L Y N M A R I A
R I C H A R D S
* it’s not enough, it never is, but i will go on until the end .
HEY THERE. THE NAME IS HALLE, AND I AM FIFTEEN.
I'VE BEEN ROLEPLAYING FOR ABOUT THREE YEARS & I'M A INTERMEDIATE/ADVANCED AFTER ALL THIS TIME. MY OTHER CHARACTERS WOULD BE OWEN COLLINS. OH, BY THE WAY, I READ THE RULES.
WANT PROOF? THE CODE WORD IS SING IT LOUD
- - - - nicknames, evie (eh-vee), ev, lyn
- - - - gender, female
- - - - age, twenty-five
- - - - sexuality, heterosexual
- - - - member group, press
- - - - (if band or crew)band, none
- - - - play by, marimoon
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- - - - hair, almost electric-pink with lighter shades of highlights, an inch or so past shoulder-length
- - - - built, slim
- - - - height, 5’7”
- - - - fashion sense, evelyn is normally more comfortable with what is described now as the “scene” or “alternative” style, though she really doesn’t limit herself with labels, leaving her to wear pretty much whatever she wants.
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- - - - loathes, impatient people, her natural hair color, stupid people, parties, being at a club without friends, smokers, paparazzi who sink to low levels, health freaks, the time it takes to dye and keep up with her hair.
- - - - strengths, reading people, logic, photography.
- - - - weaknesses, alcohol, funny men, energy drinks.
- - - - dreams, to become known as an honest press member.
- - - - fears, death, someone actually figuring her out (seeing as she hasn’t even done so yet).
- - - - overall personality, from evelyn’s appearance, you would assume that she was one of those random shallow scene chicks, who can take some pictures, nothing unusual, right? you’d be pretty damn wrong, then. despite her look, evelyn is anything but shallow. no, she doesn’t have trouble talking to people, she’s outgoing enough. but the first thing that separates her from the horde of people who look something like her is that she is extremely laid-back. actually, by most people’s definition, she’d be considered lazy. that would even be an understatement. not that she really acknowledges it; to the photographer, it’s just her, not some random personality trait. she’s the type of person who would honestly sit in a huge chair for hours on end doing nothing but reading or laying outside. and she does so a great deal, in reality, as weird as that sounds. again, it’s just who she is. she does, however, tend to emphasize it to annoy people at times. that’s another thing about evelyn: she has a habit of pushing people just to see how long it takes for them to snap, honestly just for fun. she does it in fairly subtle way, but most people who have a good grasp on psychology would get it quickly enough. she’s testing them. maybe evelyn would have made an interesting psychologist herself.
that leads to another unusual thing about the woman’s personality, which is her intelligence. most people wouldn’t guess it, but she’s actually a good deal smarter than she leads people to believe. she’s exceptionally bright, though it’s definitely not something she informs even her friends of. because, really, in her mind, how fun would that be? yes, she has a very flippant attitude about most things in life, which leads her to have, well, somewhat unusual relationships with people. her hypocrisy with certain things can annoy people almost as much as her sluggishness. the most noticeable case of this would be her outlook on life: she thinks that it shouldn’t be wasted away, and really believes that it’s pointless to smoke on shitty cancer sticks or get high every night. this does not, however, stop her from her infatuation with alcohol, even though she knows it’s just as bad as smoking, probably worse. then again, it’s helping her enjoy life, is it not? so as long as she doesn’t get drunk all the time, she doesn’t see how it’s ruining her life too much. it also doesn’t refrain her from having very careless relationships with people, friends, enemies, whatever. if someone likes her, that’s cool. if they don’t, why should she care?
yes, she actually is a press member, even though it’s kind of hard to distinguish her from a random fan at first. that’s fine with her, though. it’s not like she can hide too well, anyway, with her prominent hair. the fact is, that she’s better at photography than writing, so she usually doesn’t write. this makes her, technically, paparazzi, does it not? yeah, she’ll admit it. but she hates how low most paparazzi have sunken lately, practically stalking bands to get a few scandalous photos and making up obviously false stories. no, that’s not how she does it. when she is actually forced to write something (and it’s harder to do so than you’d guess; she will defend her time with pretty much anything) it almost always is as close to the truth as she can get it. that being said, it’s a given that she’s not quite as popular with the disreputable magazines and websites. not that she cares, of course.
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- - - - family, emily richards – mother – fifty-four – accountant
thomas richards – father – fifty-seven – pediatric doctor
- - - - pets, none
- - - - overall history, thomas and emily richards were ready for a child by the time evelyn was born. the couple had been waiting for thomas to finish medical school until having a kid, and once he graduated it was less than a year before emily was rushed to the hospital their daughter was born at. they had money, not a ton, but they were at least middle-class, so that was never an issue with the family. and, no, the girl wasn’t spoiled, she just got more attention from her parents in the typical only child way. the thing about her parents was that they were more open-minded, most people would say, for their age. if she didn’t make amazing grades, it was never a big deal to them, because honestly didn’t care too much about grades.
evelyn, somewhere around middle school, found that teachers did, in fact, care about grades. and when it was obvious that evelyn didn’t want to make the slightest effort, they assumed she was just stupid and mentally stuck the little “lost cause” sticker on her and moved on. it wasn’t until around fifth grade that she was forced to take one of the gifted tests with the rest of her grade and when they wouldn’t let her quit, she eventually finished it. when the results came in, her teachers about died. who knew that the little idiot kid who would rather skip school to sleep in or was too lazy to turn in papers was officially “gifted”? after that, they sort of stared at her for awhile, and started treating her like an actual student. the girl found this rather hypocritical of them, and it was only another thing to hold against school.
when she graduated, which she did solely so she could get out of the hell hole, there weren’t a whole lot of colleges who wanted her, obviously. her sat scores and gpa conflicted greatly, and it gave off the impression that somewhere along the way she had cheated. she hadn’t, however, because that would be way too much effort on her part. still, college wasn’t looking great for her. not that she wanted to go, anyway, and her parents weren’t too upset when she blew the idea off altogether and became a photographer, probably one of the few things she enjoyed doing. she became more well-known after a few years, and then moved to the island, assuming she was going to have an easier time photographing bands here than most other places.
- - - - rp sample,
If you had to ask Owen, he’d probably tell you that he was a morning person. Not really a morning person, he just preferred getting up around eight or so. And, yeah, okay, he had the occasional (meaning once or twice a week) day that he had a concert or something of the sort and was up until four, after which he would sleep until noon. No, it had absolutely nothing to do with most of the stuff people normally associated their liking to morning with (the sky, dew, whatever the crap they liked about morning, etc.). The main reason he liked mornings was the simple reason that on this island, most people were up at nights. That included, for the most part, quite a few of his band mates. So, if he got up at seven, when they slept in until ten or noon, he could have showered, dressed, and be out of the band’s house by the time whomever the unlucky recipient of whatever joke he had decided to pull woke up and discovered whatever it was the drummer had done.
This morning, it had been Josie. Now that he thought about it, it had probably been a bad idea pranking her since she was dragging him to the mall at four, but who really cared? Anyway, this joke, like most nowadays, since the band lived together and all it was hard not to know each other pretty freaking well, would be immediately discovered and just as quickly blamed on the twenty-year-old. But it had been nice enough that he couldn’t pass it up, as immature and simple as it was. First, the night before, he had stayed up copying Kill the Lights’s every band member’s (his included), along with multiple crew and groupie’s (yes, even Jynx, though Josie would tell her and she’d probably beat him up in an alley later) handwriting as well as he could – which was pretty good, maybe the crappy sketching had finally paid off – on about, oh, a couple hundred of Post-its (two hundred and eighty-nine, if he had counted correctly) or so. Honestly, it was a pretty stupid prank, but it would be fun nonetheless to watch Jos storm over to Owen at his seat on the railing in front of the mall and yell about how she had found “speed” and “porn” (two of the about a hundred random words or phrases he could think of that would piss her off) all over her room. But she’d had it coming ever since she had (accidentally, she said) bleached his favorite shirt after he begged her to wash clothes for him while he was practicing some song or something. Oh, yes. He was brutal. So, while Josie slept like a baby in her room, there were nearly three-hundred Post-its spread out over pretty much every object in her room they could reach, which, with only three hundred, wasn’t enough to perfect the trick, but it worked well enough anyway.
And so, while the twenty-year-old drove off in his car, giggling like the little immature brat he knew he was, he decided that that had been pretty much the best way to start the day off. Yes, that was definitely why he was a morning person. After that, assuming that it wouldn’t be a good day to go back to the house, and there wasn’t practice today anyway, he had gone to get a smoothie, and pretty much camped out at the cliffs for the rest of the morning (one of his most frequented places when he was avoiding people) and listened to music. After that, he had driven to a fast food restaurant for lunch, after which he also went back to the cliffs. It wasn’t like there was a lot else he could do, anyway, since he was alone until he went shopping with (and/or got viciously murdered by) Josie. No, there was no other way he’d rather spend his wonderful youth. Uh, not really, but it was still pretty entertaining for him. Tomorrow, he mused, he’d have to prank the groupie house... And, no, it was not just so he could annoy Jynx. …That just happened to be the main reason.
And now it was three-fifty and he was waiting at the mall. Because of the way he was sitting on the cement, he realized he probably looked like some homeless person that had given up, but the only bench open had a huge puddle of water on it, and at the Paparazzi Mall, there was no way he’d walk in looking like… well, you know. He was starting to reconsider his choice of seating, since he had realized a few seconds ago that if Josie happened to be rather mad, which was likely, he’d be a lot easier to beat up if he was sitting on the ground. But when he considered the fact that he’d been up half the night writing Post-its for Josie’s (deprivation of) enjoyment, and he’d be walking around the mall for a few hours, also mainly for Josie’s real enjoyment, he decided that the day as a whole would be much easier to live through if he just remained on his current seat until Josie got here. Psh, whoever said Owen couldn’t be lazy was either an idiot or didn’t know him at all. That was proven twice over when he saw the familiar brown-haired girl and instead of hopping up or running away (which may have been the smart thing to do) just stared up at her like the most innocent little kid ever, despite the fact that he was older than her. “Hiya, Jos.”
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THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY THATSNOTMYNAME ! @ CAUTION ,
AND THE LYRICS ARE FROM OWL CITY'S THE TECHNICOLOR PHASE
AND THE LYRICS ARE FROM OWL CITY'S THE TECHNICOLOR PHASE
