Jazz Singer
Upper West Side
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
20 years old
|
Sara
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @hannah
|
|
Post by Hannah Parker on Dec 1, 2014 2:24:43 GMT -6
Hannah breathed in the night air, letting it fill her lungs and consume her, and when she exhaled, it was like all the tension and the stress and the way it all was weighing down her good mood had disappeared with it, leaving her feel rejuvenated. Brightened. Alive in the city that never slept. It was a wonderful feeling, and one she was not looking forward to abandoning when she stepped back through the doors of that art gallery and joining the masses once more, lost in a sea of white faces among whom she did not really belong. At least in their minds. And yet, here she was, standing out on the sidewalk with the owner of the gallery whose party they were attending, and not them. Was it telling of his disposition? She wasn’t sure, but she certainly wasn’t overthinking anything that he did. It wasn’t her place to entertain a delusion like that.
However, that was much easier said than done when Jack reached forward and cupped her hands with his, lighting her cigarette with his own. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe, he was so close she could smell the cologne that clung to him and had the cigarettes not been there… they very well would have been within kissing distance, but she tried not to blush or entertain such notions. After all, all things considered he was still a respectable white man, and when it came to women like her… they were rarely the objects of their affection. ‘That got her started’ oh did it ever…
Still she managed a small smile to help mask her blush, and busied herself with inhaling the pungent smoke the cigarette secreted, if only to distract herself from the way her body reacted to his own being in such close proximity, the way she could still feel the ghost of his touch on the backs of her hands, the way the very tops of her high cheekbones were still colored a gentle rose, though thankfully the tone of her skin hid most of that from the public eye. “Oh, fabulous, one big party, not a care in the world…” Looking at him, she winked deliberately; of course she was joking, and she knew that he could at least hopefully figure it out. If he couldn’t, well… she could always explain. Then again, her life wasn’t really that awful compared to other non-honors students; she lived with the Van Alstyne’s, she had a decent amount of money to her name, and she was paving her path to at least a mildly successful career.
Married? With ten kids? A small chuckle shook her delicate frame as she exhaled, the smoke from her cigarette curling through the sky as her cigarette burned in her fingers. Marriage just wasn’t a reality that she was ever going to see, she knew, and she had resigned herself to that fact a long time ago. Of course, sometimes she hoped, she dreamed, but… there were ways around it. Putting the cigarette closer to her mouth, she stared off into nothing and thought, the many facets of her imagination running while her face remained an almost frozen mask. However, at his next words, and his subsequent movement towards her, she looked up at him, putting the cigarette in her mouth and taking another deep drag before putting the cigarette out on the ground, stepping pointedly on it and rubbing it out with the front of her shoe. It wouldn’t do have the gallery burn down after it had just so recently opened, now would it?
“Oh?” Flicking her eyes up to meet his, Hannah stood up straight and smiled at him, though the smile was just a touch… bitter. “I am well aware of my status in the world, Mr. Crawford,” she spoke quietly, pointedly using his honorary title instead of his first name as he had asked, “I am certainly not surprised that a man like you… would have never sought a woman like me out when we were children.” Was her comment snarky and cynical? Probably, but it was what it was, and it wasn’t like she could take it back now. Reaching up with her hands, she cupped them and brought them to her lips, blowing on them and rubbing them together, hoping to stimulate some kind of warmth back into them. “Damn this Prohibition.” She spoke quietly, glancing up and down the street for potential coppers, but seeing none, she relaxed a small amount, and turned her eyes back on his face, perhaps lingering on his lips. “If you weren’t hosting this lovely party… I would ask if you wanted to do something… crazy.” An almost… flirtatious spark of adventure glimmered in her eyes, and she couldn’t help but move just a fraction closer to the man who seemed to be paying her so much attention.
After all, how could she resist a man who had a such good taste?
|
|
Jazz Singer
Upper West Side
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
20 years old
|
Sara
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @hannah
|
|
Post by Hannah Parker on Dec 1, 2014 1:32:09 GMT -6
Hannah was glad that Alec couldn’t see inside the depths of her soul and mind, though his eyes did seem to pierce it. If he had… oh god the thought alone was enough to make her want to turn a shade of crimson she had not even been sure she could reach. But no, if she did that he would know that she had… impure thoughts, and that simply would not do. After all, if he knew about that, if he knew and did not return her feelings, her longing, then what? It wasn’t like he could ever fully reciprocate them, not when he was poised to become the leader of his faction. The best she could hope for was to become his mistress, his woman on the side… and the worst was for her to be cast out on the street and replaced. It wasn’t like Shira didn’t have other, equally sweet and kind friends with whom she could connect. She knew how precarious her position in the upper west side was, and on the off chance that she didn’t… there was always someone around to remind her.
Still, while she was sitting in this room with Alec, she couldn’t deny that she felt a connection with him. It was strange, but she also knew that it was more than just friendship… at least insofar as her feelings for him were concerned. Alec, as usual, was being his enigmatic self, and she couldn’t help but feel a little… frustrated at it. It was then that he opened his mouth, and she felt her face flush a little more as she ducked her head, not unlike a small child being reprimanded. However, shortly thereafter, she raised her eyes again to look at him, the ghost of her blush still evident on the sloping peaks of those high cheekbones. In a different world, she could have been a model, but in this world, in 1920s America… she was despised for even existing, hated for breathing, and people she didn’t even know thought that she was damned to the fieriest pits of hell.
And they didn’t even know about the magic.
But this was neither the time nor the place to slip into her melancholy, and some would even suggest existentialist, mindset, not when she was, as he had so bluntly pointed out, right in front of company. That company spoke once more, and she found a small, almost sad smile. He was right of course, but what could the future Don of the Upper West Side have to long for? The world was in the palm of his hand, and anything he wanted… he could have. Then again… perhaps she didn’t know Alec as well as she thought, perhaps a part of her was still merely caught up in the façade that he presented to the world. Perhaps she was being self-absorbed again, and Alec had much of the same longings that she possessed: companionship, acceptance, tolerance, equality… But in the end, did their opinions even matter? Speaking quietly, she let her hand move forward, and play a few notes on the keys that had so mesmerized her just a moment before. “The question is, Mr. Van Alstyne,” a simple, but still somehow complex, rhythm sailed out from the keys before she dropped her hand back into her lap and looked up at him, her face an almost indifferent mask, save for the small hint of affection that glimmered in her eyes and the quiet smile on her lips, “longing for… what?”
It wasn’t until the question left her lips that Hannah caught sight of the clock, and felt herself gasp. The time had gotten away from her, and if she didn’t go get ready right now, she would be late for work. And it would not behoove her to be late. “Oh no… the time… I wish I could stay and play with you more Alec, but I have to work tonight and if I don’t go get ready now… I’ll likely be fired.” Standing quickly, she reached out and grabbed her wand, for now leaving the sheets of paper that had been painstakingly inscribed with the notes she had been playing on her own moments before Alec had come in the room in the first place. Walking quickly, she started towards the door, stopping in the doorway and turning to look at him, half of her face hidden from his view in the shadow of the frame and the other smiling gently at him. “Thank you, Alec, and if it matters any…” looking down at her feet, she felt her hair fall forward, and she resisted the urge to run off without finishing speaking what she had begun to say, “if you ever need a friend to listen, or someone to hide from the world with… You’re more than welcome to seek me out.” It probably didn’t mean much, but short of kissing him, she had zero idea of what to do or say in parting, and it was well-known that something like that was expected in high society.
But for now, she would have to put all that behind her, after all, the show must go on. And go on, it would.
|
|
Jazz Singer
Upper West Side
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
20 years old
|
Sara
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @hannah
|
|
Post by Hannah Parker on Nov 20, 2014 13:10:17 GMT -6
His reaction to her living situation wasn’t exactly uncommon, in fact it was pretty much to be expected at this point. The Van Alstyne’s were a very powerful family, with enough money and influence to be recognized in just about every single circle in the city. They were a powerful family, one that didn’t have to take in some little Asian woman for the sake of some kind of novelty. Most people didn’t understand their reasons, but Hannah was pretty sure she knew exactly why she was living there. It was because of her best friend, and her tendency to beg her older brother for something she really wanted, in this case, for Hannah to come live with them when she had nowhere else to stay. So yes, in short, she lived with them, and it wasn’t exactly a situation she wanted to change, certainly not one she would willingly jeopardize. A slight incline in her head was the only indication that she had heard his quiet question, and that he had indeed heard her correctly.
He touched her. Why did he have to touch her? It certainly wasn’t necessary at this particular function, and yet it was the second time now that he had done it, even squeezing her shoulder as he laughed. It wasn’t that she minded physical contact… it was that… well as far as affectionate anything went, Hannah Parker had more to learn than she cared to admit. Sure, she had a loving family, but by the time she was sixteen both of her parents were dead and gone, and as far as romantic interests… well those were pretty much non-existent, and the extent of her experience was her, harboring some hopeless crush on a boy who could never return all that she felt. And she was, for the most part, content in that knowledge. It made it easy not to expect much, and if she didn’t expect much… well she could never really be all that disappointed, could she? At least, that’s what she told herself.
Burlesque jazz wasn’t something she would ever do. It wasn’t for the same reasons as other people, she didn’t find it sinful or disgusting, per se… but she had nowhere near enough body confidence do dance around in lingerie as she sang a soulful song much like the ones she already composed. Still, the joking, mocking nature of his tone didn’t quite sit right with her, and she felt herself stiffen slightly, something she had, somehow, avoided doing when he touched her in the first place, though she couldn’t deny that she had started a bit. “Oh, no, definitely not.” She looked a little…. Shocked, to say the least, about what he had possibly just insinuated, but not offended. She didn’t think burlesque was a bad at form, she even had a friend involved in it, but it just wasn’t for her. At all. “Give it time, word travels fast once the right people get involved, and a place like this~ It’ll be the most popular art gallery in the city in no time.” He wasn’t the only one who had high hopes for this place. Despite the fact that she hadn’t even known of its existence until just a few days ago, she was a fan of all the arts, and a place like this, well, it deserved to succeed.
Jack stood, and Hannah found her eyes drawn to him again, a small smile on her face, but one that faltered slightly when he asked her to join him and…left without waiting for any kind of response. She raised an eyebrow, but after only a moment she joined him, pulling the light coat she had worn a little tighter around her shoulders. It wasn’t unbearably cold, but given the amount of flesh that this particular dress didn’t cover, it was only natural that she should be a little chilly. Pulling out her own case, she grabbed a cigarette, but to her dismay, she discovered that she seemed to have forgotten her lighter back at her house. Either that, or her best friend was up to her old tricks and stole it again. After all, Shira was a bit of a health nut, and she hated that Hannah smoked, and there were times when she understood, but at the same time… it was her life, she was going to do what she wanted, and it wasn’t like she did it often, maybe once a week or so. Still, once the cool air had hit her face, it was like she was a completely different person. Inside she was completely rigid and on-edge, so tense that she was certain she was going to snap in half, but outside… she looked loose and happy and free, as if she had a weight lifted off of her shoulders.
This was who she was when she wasn’t weighed down by the pressures to act a certain way in society, though why she had loosened up and relaxed around Jack, she had no idea. As far as she was concerned, he was probably just as much of a high society man as any person in that room… but he had approached her. He had talked to her, he had treated her like a person… That was enough for her to at least relax a little bit. Turning to him, she held up her unlit cigarette. “Got a light? Mine seems to have walked off somewhere.” Her voice still had that formal, aloof tone, though her language had become just a touch more common, but deep down, she was still her. She was still Hannah, and sometimes, she was still fun.
|
|
Jazz Singer
Upper West Side
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
20 years old
|
Sara
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @hannah
|
|
Post by Hannah Parker on Nov 17, 2014 0:31:14 GMT -6
Hannah was arguably the youngest person in this house. Not age-wise, that title went to Shira, but when it came to giving, or receiving, affection she just had no idea how to act, or react. Alec reached out and snagged her hand in one of his. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and she stared as if she were frozen as he lifted his hand, and hers, to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her cold fingers. The heat from his lips made her shiver, though that wasn’t the only reason, and heat raced to her face as a pink blush covered her cheekbones. If she was cold before, she certainly wasn’t now. Alec lingered there, and she kept her eyes carefully trained on the sharp planes of his handsome face, as if she were trying to memorize each and every one. She was well aware of the repercussions of something like this but… she couldn’t bring herself to stop him, and she certainly didn’t want to right about now. It was a remarkably chaste gesture, but it was really the closest thing she had ever had to genuine affection, and a part of her wanted to push it further.
Alec pulled back. She exhaled, but didn’t pull her hand away from his.
“A duet. That’s what this piece should be.” Hannah’s first, outright smile stretched across her face. Did that mean he wanted to play next to her again? And, slightly less importantly in her mind, did that mean he… liked her? Or rather, did he return the feelings that she was so sure were one-sided? She didn’t want to dwell on these questions, she wanted to write off his actions as him simply being the gentleman she knew him to be, on being the sweet guy she had always hoped he was deep down. But those thoughts were there all the same, worming their way inside her subconscious and forcing her to second guess everything that was going on. “Yes… it should.” Was she agreeing to something? Was he even talking about the piano anymore? Or was there something more going on here? She didn’t know, and not for the first time, Hannah wished that she could read his mind. Unfortunately, she couldn’t. Those kinds of skills hadn’t been afforded to the “non-honors” students at Warren Academy, and though she wanted to learn them, she never had.
However, just because she couldn’t read Alec’s mind… didn’t mean she didn’t have ways of finding out what was going on, or at least some kind of idea. Shira. Surely her best friend would help her at least put things in perspective! She wasn’t stupid, she knew she had no future with Alec, and she knew she would likely never be anything more than his mistress, if she was even worth that to him. After all, she didn’t know if he was doing this because it was what he wanted or because it was what he thought she wanted. Still, she brought her eyes up to meet his, and before she realized what she was doing, she had leaned in, and her lips pressed against his.
She was gentle, and the kiss lasted only a moment, but in that moment, she felt like the world had stopped. His lips were soft, and she hated to pull away, but the second the came to her senses, and realized exactly what she was doing, that’s exactly what she did, her eyes wide. Shocked, she brought her fingers to her lips, how had she managed to do the one thing she had thought about doing so many times? Slowly, she lowered her hand, and bit down on her lower lip as if she were waiting for him to tell her to get the hell out of his house. But if he was going to do that anyways, well, might as well be honest. “I… am not going to insult you by lying to you, and I would be lying if I said I’m sorry…” There was a kind of fire not often seen in her as she looked at him, into those ocean blue eyes that always drew her in and kept her there, as he leaned back in…
Hannah blinked, returning back to the real world, Alec gazing at her with those eyes. She wanted to kiss him, but she… also didn’t want to drive him away. She had a good life, and she was exceedingly grateful and loyal to the man who afforded it to her, someone she considered a friend. Someone she didn’t want yanked away from her. She thought about pulling away but… she just didn’t want to. “We should play alongside each other again sometime, you’re an amazing pianist.” It really wasn’t hard to pay him a compliment, and she was being genuine, something that anybody looking at her, with that kind look in her eyes and that incredibly innocent look on her face, would be able to easily tell, particularly someone as shrewd and observant as Alec.
|
|
Jazz Singer
Upper West Side
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
20 years old
|
Sara
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @hannah
|
|
Post by Hannah Parker on Nov 14, 2014 0:29:19 GMT -6
Hannah felt the heat rise to her cheeks before she even knew why she should be blushing in the first place, but the critical way Alec was looking at her, as well as the way his lips parted just characteristically so… She was partially captivated, and partially concerned that he thought less of her because of her tendency to slip up on the English phrasing of things. It wasn’t that she had a hard time with English, she had grown up learning both and Korean side by side, she just tended to let her grammar… lapse a little when she was relaxed as she was now, and she was silly to think that Alec wouldn’t have picked up on it. Of course he would have, he was Alec. However… he was not the only one who paid almost exhaustive amounts of attention to the things that people said. There was a benefit to being “unseen” in the world she lived in, it made her the best observer, and probably the best spy, around. Not that she had utilized these talents under orders, something that surprised her, but maybe, just maybe, Alec didn’t realize what a valuable asset she could be.
Of course the moment he sat down next to her, the thoughts of spying and being unseen and extraneous detail slipped away, replaced by a sudden shyness and desire to make him think that she was worthy of being in his presence. In his family’s presence. His hand took to the keys, and he pulled the melody of the song flow, speaking as she nodded along to his words, her eyes not once leaving the keys and the complicated patterns he was striking as the tones filled her, reverberating to her core and plucking something inside her that… she didn’t really know that she had. Did he think she pitied herself? And more importantly… did she? It was possible, after all, she had been through so much: both her parents had died, she was an outcast among people that were supposed to be her equals… but was her pity really justified in the first place? She might have been through a lot, but she had come out from it a lot better than most. After all, look at where she lived, who she had surrounded herself with. She had the money, she had the power, she had friends that, it appeared, cared a great deal about her… what did she have to mourn?
Whatever the answer might have been, she let it die on the tip of her tongue as she turned her head to look, finally, at his face, studying the sharp, handsome planes of his profile as if she were trying to riddle out his deepest secrets. Not that she would bother trying, she wasn’t that stupid, nor was she naïve enough to think that she could in the first place. It was true that Alec was much colder than Eric, and much colder than Shira, even to her, but she didn’t dwell on it. That’s who he was, that was what made him him, and she really wouldn’t have him any other way. After all, it was useless to push a cart sideways. Her small smile seemed to mirror Alec’s as he continued his dark, and slightly haunting, melody, one that reminded her, almost eerily so, of the very man sitting next to her. Tilting her head slightly to the side, she let the music wash over her, trying to ignore the slight tightness in her chest whenever his fingers, and his arm, extend towards the higher keys, and by extension, her body perched on the edge of the piano bench.
Slowly, the song morphed as Alec’s voice fell quiet, from something dark and brooding and so completely him, to something… happier, more inspiring… more like the tune she had just been playing. As his fingers went to the lower side of the keys, Hannah lifted her own hands, playing at the highest keys and unleashing a gentle, trilling melody that held all the things she did. Promise. Hope. A gentle kind of passion and compassion. Sometimes, the melodies didn’t quite synch up, but when they did, it was in perfect unison, as if the two were meant to be played together. When his hands moved higher, so did her own, and sometimes she found herself playing one-handed, but when she started to move her hands lower, so did his. It was a perfect push-and-pull, almost as if- Hannah’s hand brushed suddenly against Alec’s, and she froze, her fingers against his, until she realized what was happening, what had happened, and that the soft, warm thing under her fingertips was actually his hand. Flinching, she took her hands off of the keyboard and put them in her lap, looking down at them almost bashfully, as if she were afraid of his reaction… mostly because she was. “S-sorry. I got a little carried away.” Understatement of the century.
|
|
Jazz Singer
Upper West Side
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
20 years old
|
Sara
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @hannah
|
|
Post by Hannah Parker on Nov 13, 2014 13:45:33 GMT -6
Hannah Parker & @andrea Definitely! I love this idea ^^ I don't think Hannah would trust her right away, especially given how closed off Andrea is, but at the same time... Hannah herself is pretty closed off, except with a few people, so that's something else they have in common. I like the idea of them meeting at the venue, we should definitely get something started with them! I could write something up at work, if you want, or if you're feeling particularly musey or anxious to post you can start too! ^^
|
|
Jazz Singer
Upper West Side
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
20 years old
|
Sara
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @hannah
|
|
Post by Hannah Parker on Nov 11, 2014 0:57:47 GMT -6
Of course she was tense, how could she not be? She was in enemy territory, and she wasn’t just talking about Chelsea. Hannah was among people who didn’t know who she was or why they shouldn’t mess with her, and she lacked any kind of security detail, opting to appear on her own that particular evening. After all, it wasn’t like she was going to a speakeasy, she was going to a damn art gallery, it wasn’t dangerous or anything. At least, she didn’t think it was. And it’s not like she was totally helpless; she had a gun strapped to a holster on her thigh and her wand stashed alongside it. She knew how to fight, it was one of the first things she had ever asked Alec to teach her, and she knew how to handle herself if she needed to. Maybe that’s why she was so cool headed now, because deep down, under the fear at the paranoia, she knew that she could handle herself, and she trusted the training that she had. After all, Jeremy was the best fighter they had, and he was the one who had taught her.
Still, talking with Jack put her at ease, and when he asked if he should call her Don Hannah, she laughed out loud. The idea of her being in Alec’s place was laughable at best. She could never imagine ruling over an entire faction, much less doing so as successfully as he had. Turning her head she saw the grin on his face, and decided to mess with his head a little bit, just for the hell of it. “Oh no,” she adopted that cool, levelheaded smile that had been on her face for most of the night, “I’m much more formal than that, it’s Don Parker.” She even managed to keep a straight face as she said it, though it didn’t last very long before it cracked, revealing her vibrantly white teeth, a small chuckle escaping, though it wasn’t as prevalent as the outright laugh from earlier. Which was probably a good thing, she had enough people thinking she was some “stupid Asian”, she didn’t need the one friendly face here thinking that she was mentally ill or something. But wait, if he knew the vernacular, if he knew what it meant that she lived on the Upper West Side and had money, or at least was knowledgeable enough to joke around about it… was he in the Chelsea faction?
Though she didn’t consciously do it, Hannah found her body lowering down towards the seat until the white fabric bunched under her legs, not unlike the way she had found herself seated at a piano bench on more than once occasion. Her fingers brushed against the wooden surface, and she felt a small amount more at ease, though that wasn’t saying much, considering how on edge she was in this particular environment in the first place. “Yes well, friends in high places tend to lend to prosperity.” A small smile crossed her face, before she too moved along the conversation spectrum. “You’re not the only one, the only people I see any more are the Van Alstyne’s… and I live with them, so I don’t quite think that counts.” Not quite true, but she couldn’t rattle off the names of the people she encountered; most of them were well-known members of the faction, and if he knew anything about that, it wouldn’t take long for him to figure it out. After that, she would be seen, more likely than not, as an enemy, and she couldn’t have that. Not yet, anyways.
His wink couldn’t be called anything but cheeky, and when she saw it, one of her eyebrows lifted. She was used to not being treated like a lady, most of the men she encountered, aside from Alec, never felt the need to treat her, well, even like a person. To most people, she was a part of the wall paper, she was nothing special, and people’s eyes tended to just pass over her. “No, no,” she chuckled, “Hannah Parker, jazz pianist and vocalist, at your service.” She tried her hardest to look haughty and aloof, and even nodded her head once in his direction before looking away, and hey, maybe she even pulled it off for a short while, but it wasn’t a façade that she could maintain for long. She may have been born into that life, but it was one that she hadn’t always adapted well to, and she smiled at him again, all pretense of superiority vanishing, at least from her face. “What about you? Why am I just hearing about this place? You have some magnificent pieces, so why am I just hearing about this place?” Her look was friendly and inquisitive, and it didn’t hint at any kind of ulterior motive… but that didn’t mean that she didn’t have one, either.
|
|
Jazz Singer
Upper West Side
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
20 years old
|
Sara
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @hannah
|
|
Post by Hannah Parker on Nov 10, 2014 10:57:19 GMT -6
|
|
Jazz Singer
Upper West Side
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
20 years old
|
Sara
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @hannah
|
|
Post by Hannah Parker on Nov 9, 2014 15:17:17 GMT -6
The only time Hannah really felt uncomfortable in the manor she had come so accustomed to living in was when Shira was gone. But yes, she knew how it was. Shira was a fantastic dancer, with talent she only wished she possessed, though she had a small amount of classical training, her skill had always lain in the two things she allowed herself to indulge in. Singing and piano. Occasionally she found herself at the barre with Shira, but it wasn’t something she was dedicated to, not like her other hobbies. However, her best friend was away in Boston, for what felt like far too long. She could have found a different place to stay, maybe, but she wasn’t the kind of person to do that… it would be an insult to the family that had so graciously taken her in when she needed them to. When she had nowhere else to go.
However, there were certain… perks that she couldn’t deny about living in the Van Alstyne house. Specifically, her older brother, Alec, the same man who had walked into the room that she loved spending most of her time in. It was strange seeing Alec like this, with his shirt untucked and, she noticed, partially unbuttoned, revealing the skin at the hollow of his throat. He looked a little more relaxed… but if Hannah knew anything about the man, she knew that appearances could certainly be deceiving. She had heard whispers about the boy, no, man, standing very close to her, close enough that she could smell the cologne that he wore. People feared him, said that he could be cruel, cutting, even terrifying… She didn’t blame them, she had seen the way he had acted towards people who had betrayed his trust or undermined his authority. But to her… to her he had never been anything but kind. Then again, she had never been stupid enough to act like she was better than him, like she controlled him. She knew that he could kick her out whenever he wanted, and she knew that she owed him… though that didn’t stop her from teasing him from time to time. She wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t. He spoke, and despite herself, her eyebrows lifted in surprise and a look of confusion flitted across her face. Why did he want to hide? What was going on that made him want to?
Although she tried to hide the look on her face, she apparently wasn’t successful, and the corners of his lips ticked up in that crooked smile that made her chest feel strangely tight. Her eyes widened a little, and she quickly turned her eyes back to the piano, pulling the sheets of music towards her and flicking through them, checking over the complicated mass of notes that she had recorded, before placing them off to the side of the board and placing her hands gently on the edge of the bench. He spoke again, and her deep brown eyes found their way back to his face, the angular planes that she had come to recognize so clearly. “Yes it is,” she had always noticed when her friend was away. There was a certain melodic laugh and happy energy that was blatantly absent from the halls of the home. It made the place feel empty, and as much as she tried to compensate, it wasn’t the same. “It feels… empty. Not quite the same… you know?” Her voice was quiet, reserved, as if she were ready for someone to lash out at her for speaking. It was a meekness that had forced its way into her life when she was a little girl, and one that she still couldn’t quite get rid of.
Hannah could feel him standing next to her, and it was the little things like this that she just… let herself feel. She wasn’t the kind of person to act on how she felt in reference to men she felt attracted to, she had learned early on that most of the men in her peer group wanted nothing to do with her. Even female friends were hard to come by, and the last thing she wanted was to alienate one of the few friends that she actually had. Still, when he did little things like compliment her, she could feel a blush start to ebb over her face, though she fought it hard. “Thank you,” she paused, “my father taught me when I was little, and I always used to wait, staring out the window until he got home so we could play.” There was a faraway, almost forlorn look in her eyes as she peered down at the familiar keys, though it was one she quickly blinked it away as he began to play his own piece.
She knew that he played, Shira often told her that they should play together sometime, but it wasn’t something that she had ever envisioned actually doing. The piece that he played contrasted sharply with the one that she had, powerful and somber and… remarkably provoking. Hannah’s smile returned, a genuine one, and she scooted down a bit on the piano bench, so she was more perched on the edge than fully sitting on it, patting the seat next to her. “Play with me?” If it were anybody else, literally anybody, she might be worried about the possible…. Implications of something that could be read as flirting, or an innuendo, but she hoped that the innocent look on her face would be enough to convince Alec of the innocent nature of her comment. She just wanted company, someone to spend time with her and maybe seek enjoyment out of the same things that she did. She just wanted a friend. Now, if she could just convince herself of that, she would be golden.
|
|
Jazz Singer
Upper West Side
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
20 years old
|
Sara
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @hannah
|
|
Post by Hannah Parker on Nov 9, 2014 13:33:45 GMT -6
His gentle correction forced a humorless smile to her face as he shoved his hands in his pockets. She was willing to bet most of her money that if he did remember her, it wasn’t anything more than a half familiarity. It wasn’t like they had ever spoken in school, to the extent of her knowledge, and if they had… well it obviously hadn’t been anything of consequence in the first place. She had called him Mr. Crawford as a sign of respect, but if he wanted her to call him Jack… then that’s how she would refer to him. Clearly, he knew that she was a witch, if his comments were any suggestion, and she flicked up her dark eyes to meet his, sharing some kind of conspiratorial glance that only two people who shared a kind of bond among the masses could share, the barest of genuine smiles crossing her face. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy Jack’s company, a part of her did. After all, he was an attractive man, and one who seemed to be paying her a fair amount of attention, and it really wasn’t his fault that most of the people she had encountered in public were rude.
Hannah could feel the eyes of the people in the room on her, the smirks and the outright glares. They frustrated her. At least, a little bit. Why was she treated differently because of the color of her skin? She had paved her way in the world, she was a mildly respected jazz singer, and she had a fair amount of money saved up from what was left of her parent’s estate and from the small amount of money she got at the gigs she booked. But she pushed it all away, the rage, and the frustration, all of it. There wasn’t a whole lot that she could do about it anyways, the last thing she wanted was to make a scene and perpetuate some kind of stereotype, or serve to lower the reputation of people like her further than it already was in the eyes of the general public. Not that she would be able to do much in the first place, but it was the little things that counted, right? …right?
Please, even Hannah wasn’t that naïve and jaded.
“At least you have taste.” A rare compliment from the owner of an art gallery, at least, if it was genuine. She knew the tricks, she had seen them executed more than once, though she was very, very rarely afforded their usage. Most people didn’t give a rat’s ass what a little Asian woman thought of them, and even the principle of “a sale is a sale” didn’t seem to apply. In the end she usually got what she wanted, and that was what really mattered to her, even if there were times, like right now, that she wasn’t exactly sure what it was she wanted. There was a lot that she could say about the piece: the way the short strokes gave everything a whimsical, feathery look to it that she loved, the artist’s clever use of lighting and colors to set the stage for the time of day. But instead, she said nothing and let her eyes canvas it again, a small smile on her face. She tried not to think about how she would love to go away to some small cabin like that for a few days with the man who loved her. It was an impossible future, and she knew it… no self-respecting man from the Upper West Side would ever fall for her, and no Asian man would love a girl who’s half white either.
Jack’s voice snapped her from her little reverie, and she couldn’t help but laugh when he asked her if she was living in Chinatown, briefly being thrown back to her childhood and the traumatic year after her father had died. That hole in the wall down the road from the local whorehouse plagued her nightmares sometimes, as did the way the men leered at her as she walked down the street, on her way to school after break. “No… Not in Chinatown. The Upper West Side.” She could see the shock that would undoubtedly be written on his face, that’s how it was with most people, why should he be any different. “As for California… call it ridiculous nostalgia or irrational fear but I prefer it here.” It wasn’t like the racial diversity was any better in California, as far as she knew, or public opinion of… people like her. As far as she knew, the whole world disliked her, some even wanted to ban her existence. It wasn’t anything new, but it still hurt. Especially when it was someone that she cared about. Not that Jack qualified, she didn’t even really know him, but… at this point, she might not mind getting to.
|
|
Jazz Singer
Upper West Side
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
20 years old
|
Sara
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @hannah
|
|
Post by Hannah Parker on Nov 7, 2014 14:02:56 GMT -6
Even at Warren, Hannah had stuck out. She was a perfect mix of her parent’s races, not quite Asian enough to blend in with the other non-honors students, and not quite light enough to be accepted among the honors kids. Her parent’s odd love story was enough to make her an outcast even there, though there was one girl that happily befriended her, shunned from every category that existed at the school because of the world she had come from. Shira had been homeless, running around on the streets and fighting to survive, until the Don of the Upper West Side, Aldrich Van Alstyne, had taken her in because of her innocent, doe-eyed appearance. It was something that he could use to his advantage, because really, who would expect a girl like that to turn around and rob them blind? Probably only the people who were smart enough to realize a girl of her standing would probably never talk to them. In the beginning, Hannah had wondered why Shira was talking to her, if it was some kind of assignment from her father or if she was genuinely interested in bonding with the other girl… But she learned very quickly, or at least she thought she did, that Shira was being genuine. After all, why would a Don tell his daughter to befriend some half-Asian girl? It was partly because of the luxury afforded to her by living with the Van Alstyne’s and partly because of her family unfreezing her accounts after her mother died that Hannah was able to go to the art gallery show that night in Chelsea. If she were still living in the little hole in the wall in Chinatown, or really wherever the orphanage would have put her unless she managed to get adopted, which wasn’t exactly likely, there was no way she would have been able to come. As it were, Shira and her family had taken her in, her father’s relatives had seen fit to put everything her father owned into an account with her name on it, for some stupid reason that she still didn’t understand, and she found herself getting ready, desperately hoping to find a piece that she liked so her walls would look a little less barren. She stood with Shira in front of her closet, discussing the options. After all, this event wasn’t exactly something she could go to in a day dress, it was more high-end than that. Eventually, the pair of them settled on a white dress that she had gotten recently, one that fell to just above her knee and cut… well rather low, but it was the newest fashion, and she couldn’t afford to look outdated, even if she didn’t really care what all these society people thought. She wanted to be taken seriously, and given her racial background, she was already at a huge disadvantage. Smoothing down the front of her dress, she slid on her jacket, and began making the long journey to the art gallery, sliding into a black town car and watching the New York landscape flash by outside the tinted window. She only got out of the car when she got to the gallery, stepping inside and leaving her coat at the door and finding a way to get lost amongst the patrons, despite some sideways glances and whispers that she knew were bound to cloak every public appearance that she made. Straightening, she tried not to let it bother her, thought she had a feeling that was much easier said than done, in fact, she knew it was much easier said than done. Separating herself from the crowd, she found herself standing in front of a beautiful landscape painting, though she knew not the location. Hannah hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings, a horrid mistake, and when a hand brushed against her shoulder she jumped a bit, startled, and then stiffened when she remembered where she was, and that there was no way this was Alec, or one of the other men involved in the Upper West Side. She was the only one coming tonight. Turning her head, she glanced first at his hand, and then up at him, fighting hard against the impulse to grit her teeth when he spoke to her. Of course she knew who he was, Jack Crawford. They had gone to Warren together, though she highly doubted that he remembered who she was; they were from different worlds. “Fancy seeing one of you here.” She knew it was uncommon for an Korean woman like herself to be in an art gallery, but Hannah wasn’t just some Korean woman, she was a member of the upper west side gang, and a personal friend to the children of the Don. She was a society girl… or at least she pretended to be. “I don’t make trouble, Mr. Crawford.” Her voice was almost meek, and her words were polite, though anybody looking into her eyes would see the vitality with which they flashed. “But I cannot say the same for everybody in this room. I mean no harm to you or to your business. Tonight, I’m just another observer of the finer arts of life.”
|
|
Jazz Singer
Upper West Side
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
20 years old
|
Sara
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @hannah
|
|
Post by Hannah Parker on Nov 7, 2014 10:42:17 GMT -6
A black halo of hair encircled Hannah’s head as she bent slightly over the keyboard, her eyes watching her long, thin fingers as they coaxed complicated waterfalls of melody from the ivory and ebony keys that, despite years of use, looked somehow new and unblemished by age. She’d had a piano much like this one, in a room just one door down from where she slept, and every single day her and her father would sit down and play for however long they felt like. It was a beautiful memory, but it was not on her mind that day, and in fact, the way she was playing now, and the reason, were very different than the way that they had been back then. Today, the tip of Hannah’s wand was lit, and as her fingers raced across the keys, each moment pulling a more complicated melody from the strings hidden from her by the lacquered wood, notes scrawled across a piece of paper, tracking the tones that rang out in the air as she played them. It was a sweet melody, one that spoke of hope and promise and, above all, a future. A future she craved with every fiber of her being. A future of success. This was how it always was. Whether it was a rehearsal or a performance, whether she was singing or dancing or playing, it didn’t matter, she lost herself I the music. She let it fill her and drive her, and she surrendered herself to it completely. Time stopped. The world around her ceased to exist. All that moved was her, and the piano. It was as if everything in the universe was turning towards her, ears perked and prepared for her song. As she played, she felt to world pull into harmony, and her pulse beat to the rhythm of the song, the corners of her mouth pulling up towards her ears, looking, probably for the first time in at least a month, at peace. It had been in December that her father’s ship had found its way to the bottom of the sea with him in it, and every time the snow began to fall, she was reminded of him, and by extension, of her mother and the cramped Chinatown apartment they had been forced to live in after he had died. Every year, around this time, she got quiet, withdrawn, sad… almost as if every year she was reliving the experience, like an old wound was being ripped open. However, the isolation and the quiet harmony lasted only so long as the music did, and as the last chord faded from the air, Hannah took a deep breath as she pulled her hands back from the keys, letting them settle in her lap and turning her head slightly to the side, seeing a familiar, dark figure out of the corner of her eye. “Hello, Alec.” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper, as she flicked her dark brown eyes up to meet his ocean blue ones, the same ones that most people called cutting and degrading, but… well actually she would probably say that too. If you pissed him off, Alec was your worst enemy, but he was also, as she had found out quite some time ago, a very powerful ally. His name carried weight, and influence in the underground world of New York City, not that that was the reason behind her continued residence at the Van Alstyne manor, and so long as you were loyal to him, you weren’t on his shit list. Which was a good thing, since people on his shit list tended to end up dead. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Her voice wasn’t sarcastic or rude, as so many people might expect her to be, but polite and almost subtly familiar, though she didn’t allow herself that at the moment. One never knew who was listening, and besides, if she let herself sound familiar, it was only a matter of time before someone discovered whatever feelings she had locked away in the deep recesses of her mind, just waiting to be unleashed. Reaching up, Hannah gently ran one hand through her long, black hair as she looked at him, her deep eyes surveying him and wondering; why now? She knew that he had heard her pay before, usually when Shira had come running in to talk to her, or to spend time with her, but very rarely did he make himself known like he was now. So why? She tried not to read into it too much, but when it came to Alec, that was hard, just like it always was. Why did she have to have a stupid crush on him? Why could she have a crush on someone more… attainable? Her and Alec might in the same economic class, but dating someone who wasn’t Asian would never fly for the future of the Don of the Upper West Side. Tag: @alec
|
|
Jazz Singer
Upper West Side
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
20 years old
|
Sara
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @hannah
|
|
Post by Hannah Parker on Nov 5, 2014 23:21:27 GMT -6
[nospaces] [attr="class","GGtabletemp2"] [attr="class","GGtitletemp2"]
EVERY NIGHT I SIT HERE BY MY WINDOW
[attr="class","GGcontainer1temp2"][PTabbedContent][PTab=I] [attr="class","GGcontainer2temp2"] [attr="class","GGhovertabtemp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent2temp2"] [attr="class","GGnametemp2"]
HANNAH PARKER
[attr="class","GGbasicstemp2"]
is female, has been living for twenty years in the upper west side as a jazz singer, and is interested in men.
[/PTab={height:24px;}][PTab=II] [attr="class","GGcontainer2temp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent1temp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent2temp2"] [attr="class","GGsubtexttemp2"]CHARACTER SUMMARY [attr="class","GGcontent3temp2"] [attr="class","GGlettertemp2"]
H annah tends to act meek and quiet, but a lot of that is just a mask that she puts on out of necessity for self-preservation. She's already targeted because of the fact that she's a biracial woman, she certainly doesn't want to be targeted because of the fact that behind that pretty, innocent little face, a fiery girl with a slightly stubborn disposition lurks, eager to break out any chance she gets. More often than not it's her friends who see this side of her, though it's been seen in her music as well. [break] That being said, Hannah also has a remarkably thick skin for a woman her age. A lot of this has been attributed to that flagrant racism that she's had to deal with since she was nothing more than a small child, dodging the glares and the hate-filled looks that often got tossed her way. Don't think for a second that this girl is going to look at you twice if you start slinging racial slurs at her. They might sting, but she's one to show reaction to that kind of thing, at least not in public. Occasionally, she gets in small, passionate… well let's call them "debates", with her friends, and will happily call them on their shit. Within reason, that is. There are, however, certain times that she will kind of just keep quiet, realizing that she needs to choose her battles. It's really one of the small ways that she exhibits her maturity, even though sometimes she doesn't act like the most mature girl around. [break][break] friends: Like I said, Hannah is rather quiet and meek, at least until you do something to earn her trust. Then you start to see the girl underneath, the fiery, stubborn, independent girl who has managed to survive by flying under the radar. She's fiercely loyal to the friends that she does have, certain ones more than others, but make no mistake, if you're out to get her or being fake, she'll drop you like it's nothing.[break][break] lovers: Hannah believe's in love, she's just never really, you know, felt it. Aside from familial love, and platonic love... but yeah she's never really been swept off her feet, and a part of her thinks she never will because of her biracial status. If your character falls for her, good luck convincing her of it.[break][break] enemies: Hannah's a sweet girl, she really is, but a lot of people are going to hate her just for existing. Even other Asians, because she's biracial.[break][break] [/PTab={height:24px;}][PTab=III] [attr="class","GGcontainer2temp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent1temp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent2temp2"] [attr="class","GGsubtexttemp2"]LISTED RELATIONS [attr="class","GGcontent3temp2"] [attr="class","GGlettertemp2"]
H ere are all my characters relations, but I would love to have many many more ^^[break][break] @alec: Hannah doesn't really know where she stands with him. She knows she has a huge crush on him, and she's best friends with his little sister, but other than that... it's all up in the air. [break][break] Jack Crawford: Another very confusing one. One minute they were fine and the next they were... racing outside for a cigarette?[break][break] @andrea: There's literally nothing in her life that can be simple, can it? These two are very hesitant friends, and it seems that their kindness extends only so far as they aren't in direct competition with one another. [break][break] @characterusername: description of relationship here. description of relationship here. description of relationship here.[break][break] @characterusername: description of relationship here. description of relationship here. description of relationship here. [/PTab={height:24px;}][/PTabbedContent={width:430px;height:400px;border:0px;}] [attr="class","GGtitletemp2"]
STARING AT THE LONELY AVENUE
[attr="class","trinCredits"]TABLE BY TRINITY @ ADOXOGRAPHY [newclass=".post .message table.PT_table"]width: 100%;border: 0px;padding: 0px;margin: 0px;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_table_header"]border: 0px;align:center;text-align: center;font-size:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_tabs"]border: 0px;text-align:center;background-color: #221e1f;color:#fff;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_tabs_selected"]border: 0px;text-align:center;background-color: #a0a0a0;color:#fff;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_tabs_hover"]border: 0px;text-align:center;background-color: #221e1f;color:#fff;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_tabs_selected_hover"]border: 0px;text-align:center;background-color: #a0a0a0;color:#fff;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_spots"]background-color:transparent;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGtabletemp2"]width:480px;margin:0px auto;position:relative;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGtitletemp2"]text-align:center;background-color:#58644c;line-height:10px;font-size:15px;padding:25px;letter-spacing:4px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:arial narrow;color:#ffffff;font-size:11px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontainer1temp2"]background-image:url('http://storage.proboards.com/5459480/i/kyqeJOCNHJMjCcaVKN4q.jpg');padding:25px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontainer2temp2"]margin-top:25px;height:297px;padding:15px;background-color:#ffffff;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGhovertabtemp2"]width:400px;height:300px;background-color:#fff;text-align:center;opacity:0;position:absolute;-webkit-transition-duration: 1s;transition-duration: 1s;-moz-transition-duration: 1s;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGhovertabtemp2:hover"]opacity:1;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGnametemp2"]text-align:center;line-height:8px;font-size:15px;padding-top:10px;padding-bottom:10px;margin-bottom:20px;border-bottom:1px solid #a0a0a0;border-top:1px solid #a0a0a0;letter-spacing:4px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:arial narrow;color:#221e1f;margin-top:70px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGbasicstemp2"]font-family:georgia;font-size:9px;text-transform:lowercase;text-align:justify;margin-top:-10px;padding-left:8px;padding-right:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontent1temp2"]width:400px;height:300px;text-align:justify;background-color:#fff;font-size:9px;font-family:georgia;text-transform:lowercase;color:#000000;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontent2temp2"]padding:50px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGsubtexttemp2"]font-size:20px;text-align:center;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:georgia;margin-bottom:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontent3temp2"]height:175px;overflow:auto;padding:5px;margin-bottom:-5px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGlettertemp2"]font-style:none;font-family:georgia;float:left;color:#fff;text-transform:uppercase;background-color:#58644c;padding:20px;margin-right:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=".trinCredits"]font-family:arial narrow;font-size:10px;font-style:italic;letter-spacing:1px;text-align:center;[/newclass] [attr="class","GGtabletemp2"] [attr="class","GGtitletemp2"]
YOU THINK YOU'RE DONE WITH ME?
[attr="class","GGcontainer1temp2"][PTabbedContent][PTab=I] [attr="class","GGcontainer2temp2"] [attr="class","GGhovertabtemp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent2temp2"] [attr="class","GGnametemp2"]
ERIC VAN ALSTYNE
[attr="class","GGbasicstemp2"]
is male, has been living for twenty-four years in the upper west side as a deputy editor of the New York Times, and is interested in women.
[/PTab={height:24px;}][PTab=II] [attr="class","GGcontainer2temp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent1temp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent2temp2"] [attr="class","GGsubtexttemp2"]CHARACTER SUMMARY [attr="class","GGcontent3temp2"] [attr="class","GGlettertemp2"]
T o most people, Eric can give off the general cocky, arrogant, asshole appearance, much like his half-brother and his father. He may not have been raised in the same lifestyle as them, spending most of his childhood in a small, run-down apartment, but he's certainly adjusted to it well. He's the kind of person who indulges in vices, particularly in alcohol and women. He's also been described as a bit of a man-whore, but if anybody asked him about it, he would simply say that he's a charming person, and if women are drawn in by it, well, he's not going to be the one to push them away. That's not who he is. [break] Eric doesn't like to be tied down at all, and in the past, if he's started heading in that direction, he basically cut off all ties and, well, breaks the woman's heart. He just doesn't quite know how to interact with women, how to let them in, which might be part of the reason he doesn't really deal well with emotion from them either. Seeing a woman cry is one of the few things that he truly, desperately hates. [break][break] friends: Eric is rather charming and suave. He's the kind of person who can talk his way through just about anything, and manage to charm even the most discerning women. Usually he doesn't really have trouble charming men just as equally, though more often than not people have taken a personal disliking to his flirtatious ways, and dislike him purely on principle. [break][break] lovers: There are going to be a lot of these. Eric's a lover, not a fighter, and he thrives off of getting attention from members of the more delicate gender. He's also not exactly picky about the women he goes after, though he'll be the first to admit that he's drawn towards the more bold and forward ones.[break][break] enemies: Yeah so Eric's still the son of the Don of the Upper West Side, and that alone is enough to put a pretty large target on his back. Combine that with his tendency to have his fair share of women, as well as a few other people's shares as well, and you have a recipe for more than a few enemies. [break][break] [/PTab={height:24px;}][PTab=III] [attr="class","GGcontainer2temp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent1temp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent2temp2"] [attr="class","GGsubtexttemp2"]LISTED RELATIONS [attr="class","GGcontent3temp2"] [attr="class","GGlettertemp2"]
H ere are all my characters relations, but I would love to have many many more ^^[break][break] @alec: Eric's little half brother. They have an, er, complicated relationship, in which Alec tends to belittle him and act superior, just because he's legitimate.[break][break] @lourdes: This sexy woman right here is pretty high up on Eric's list. He pays her for information, and occasionally, for, uh... "other services".[break][break] @adelaide: This one's a sassy little Jane who comes from money and... intrigues him more than anything. [break][break] @characterusername: description of relationship here. description of relationship here. description of relationship here.[break][break] @characterusername: description of relationship here. description of relationship here. description of relationship here. [/PTab={height:24px;}][/PTabbedContent={width:430px;height:400px;border:0px;}] [attr="class","GGtitletemp2"]
LIKE YOU CAN LIGHT THE MATCH AND NOT GET BURNED
[attr="class","trinCredits"]TABLE BY TRINITY @ ADOXOGRAPHY [newclass=".post .message table.PT_table"]width: 100%;border: 0px;padding: 0px;margin: 0px;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_table_header"]border: 0px;align:center;text-align: center;font-size:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_tabs"]border: 0px;text-align:center;background-color: #221e1f;color:#fff;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_tabs_selected"]border: 0px;text-align:center;background-color: #a0a0a0;color:#fff;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_tabs_hover"]border: 0px;text-align:center;background-color: #221e1f;color:#fff;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_tabs_selected_hover"]border: 0px;text-align:center;background-color: #a0a0a0;color:#fff;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_spots"]background-color:transparent;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGtabletemp2"]width:480px;margin:0px auto;position:relative;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGtitletemp2"]text-align:center;background-color:#58644c;line-height:10px;font-size:15px;padding:25px;letter-spacing:4px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:arial narrow;color:#ffffff;font-size:11px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontainer1temp2"]background-image:url('http://storage.proboards.com/5459480/i/kyqeJOCNHJMjCcaVKN4q.jpg');padding:25px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontainer2temp2"]margin-top:25px;height:297px;padding:15px;background-color:#ffffff;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGhovertabtemp2"]width:400px;height:300px;background-color:#fff;text-align:center;opacity:0;position:absolute;-webkit-transition-duration: 1s;transition-duration: 1s;-moz-transition-duration: 1s;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGhovertabtemp2:hover"]opacity:1;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGnametemp2"]text-align:center;line-height:8px;font-size:15px;padding-top:10px;padding-bottom:10px;margin-bottom:20px;border-bottom:1px solid #a0a0a0;border-top:1px solid #a0a0a0;letter-spacing:4px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:arial narrow;color:#221e1f;margin-top:70px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGbasicstemp2"]font-family:georgia;font-size:9px;text-transform:lowercase;text-align:justify;margin-top:-10px;padding-left:8px;padding-right:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontent1temp2"]width:400px;height:300px;text-align:justify;background-color:#fff;font-size:9px;font-family:georgia;text-transform:lowercase;color:#000000;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontent2temp2"]padding:50px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGsubtexttemp2"]font-size:20px;text-align:center;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:georgia;margin-bottom:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontent3temp2"]height:175px;overflow:auto;padding:5px;margin-bottom:-5px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGlettertemp2"]font-style:none;font-family:georgia;float:left;color:#fff;text-transform:uppercase;background-color:#58644c;padding:20px;margin-right:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=".trinCredits"]font-family:arial narrow;font-size:10px;font-style:italic;letter-spacing:1px;text-align:center;[/newclass] [attr="class","GGtabletemp2"] [attr="class","GGtitletemp2"]
WITH A TASTE OF YOUR POISON PARADISE
[attr="class","GGcontainer1temp2"][PTabbedContent][PTab=I] [attr="class","GGcontainer2temp2"] [attr="class","GGhovertabtemp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent2temp2"] [attr="class","GGnametemp2"]
RAVENNA D'ANGELO
[attr="class","GGbasicstemp2"]
is female, has been living for twenty-four years in Greenwich as a personal assistant, and is interested in men and women.
[/PTab={height:24px;}][PTab=II] [attr="class","GGcontainer2temp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent1temp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent2temp2"] [attr="class","GGsubtexttemp2"]CHARACTER SUMMARY [attr="class","GGcontent3temp2"] [attr="class","GGlettertemp2"]
F rom the time she was born, Raven's been a wayward spirit, impulsive and unpredictable. However, this habit tended to get her in trouble more often than not. She tends to wander about without having any idea where she is going, and yet somehow she never gets lost. This impulsive and unpredictable spirit comes in handy when trying to evade people, however, and generally leads to others losing themselves when trying to find her. When someone is standing in the way of what she wants, she is rude, insulting, cold, and just generally a terrifying person. She's also incredibly vindictive, and if you scorn her god help you, because she is willing and prepared to do whatever it takes to get to the top.[break][break] friends: Raven has no qualms about "befriending" those that can help her claw her way up the social ladder, and I mean that quite literally because this girl will do anything she can to move up society's ladder. She wants to be someone, and those are the kinds of people she is likely to surround herself with. People of notoriety. Anybody else simply isn't worth her time.[break][break] lovers: This section is kind of closed for three glaring reasons. The D'orolione men. Between the three of them good luck getting anywhere near her, but you're still welcome to try. Just... be prepared for the consequences if you get caught, because I can assure you they will not be pretty at all.[break][break] enemies: There's probably going to be a lot of these. Raven's a social climbing, elitist little bitch without even being considered a part of the elite. If she's willing to alienate her own family for the sake of getting somewhere in the world, there's really nobody she won't fuck over.[break][break] [/PTab={height:24px;}][PTab=III] [attr="class","GGcontainer2temp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent1temp2"] [attr="class","GGcontent2temp2"] [attr="class","GGsubtexttemp2"]LISTED RELATIONS [attr="class","GGcontent3temp2"] [attr="class","GGlettertemp2"]
H ere are all my characters relations, but I would love to have many many more ^^[break][break] @cesare: Raven's "boss" and savior. He's really the reason she is where she is, and she's not really likely to forget it. Aside from that, there's definitely an allure and lots of attraction there, and maybe, at least from one of them, a small amount of love. After all, every girl has her own version of Prince Charming, right? She's not willing to put a label on it, but she also knows that he's getting close to his self-control limit, and it's only a matter of time before she tips him over the edge and reels him in. [break][break] @characterusername: description of relationship here. description of relationship here. description of relationship here.[break][break] @characterusername: description of relationship here. description of relationship here. description of relationship here.[break][break] @characterusername: description of relationship here. description of relationship here. description of relationship here.[break][break] @characterusername: description of relationship here. description of relationship here. description of relationship here. [/PTab={height:24px;}][/PTabbedContent={width:430px;height:400px;border:0px;}] [attr="class","GGtitletemp2"]
YOU'RE TOXIC I'M SLIPPING UNDER
[attr="class","trinCredits"]TABLE BY TRINITY @ ADOXOGRAPHY [newclass=".post .message table.PT_table"]width: 100%;border: 0px;padding: 0px;margin: 0px;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_table_header"]border: 0px;align:center;text-align: center;font-size:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_tabs"]border: 0px;text-align:center;background-color: #221e1f;color:#fff;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_tabs_selected"]border: 0px;text-align:center;background-color: #a0a0a0;color:#fff;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_tabs_hover"]border: 0px;text-align:center;background-color: #221e1f;color:#fff;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_tabs_selected_hover"]border: 0px;text-align:center;background-color: #a0a0a0;color:#fff;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass] [newclass=".PT_table .PT_spots"]background-color:transparent;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGtabletemp2"]width:480px;margin:0px auto;position:relative;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGtitletemp2"]text-align:center;background-color:#58644c;line-height:10px;font-size:15px;padding:25px;letter-spacing:4px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:arial narrow;color:#ffffff;font-size:11px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontainer1temp2"]background-image:url('http://storage.proboards.com/5459480/i/kyqeJOCNHJMjCcaVKN4q.jpg');padding:25px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontainer2temp2"]margin-top:25px;height:297px;padding:15px;background-color:#ffffff;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGhovertabtemp2"]width:400px;height:300px;background-color:#fff;text-align:center;opacity:0;position:absolute;-webkit-transition-duration: 1s;transition-duration: 1s;-moz-transition-duration: 1s;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGhovertabtemp2:hover"]opacity:1;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGnametemp2"]text-align:center;line-height:8px;font-size:15px;padding-top:10px;padding-bottom:10px;margin-bottom:20px;border-bottom:1px solid #a0a0a0;border-top:1px solid #a0a0a0;letter-spacing:4px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:arial narrow;color:#221e1f;margin-top:70px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGbasicstemp2"]font-family:georgia;font-size:9px;text-transform:lowercase;text-align:justify;margin-top:-10px;padding-left:8px;padding-right:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontent1temp2"]width:400px;height:300px;text-align:justify;background-color:#fff;font-size:9px;font-family:georgia;text-transform:lowercase;color:#000000;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontent2temp2"]padding:50px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGsubtexttemp2"]font-size:20px;text-align:center;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:georgia;margin-bottom:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGcontent3temp2"]height:175px;overflow:auto;padding:5px;margin-bottom:-5px;[/newclass] [newclass=".GGlettertemp2"]font-style:none;font-family:georgia;float:left;color:#fff;text-transform:uppercase;background-color:#58644c;padding:20px;margin-right:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=".trinCredits"]font-family:arial narrow;font-size:10px;font-style:italic;letter-spacing:1px;text-align:center;[/newclass]
|
|