Post by blahblahbertha on May 9, 2010 18:34:07 GMT -5
...Jeanette Cassie Hallbrooke*
*And she sets out to wash away the problems of her peers...*
[/size]*And she sets out to wash away the problems of her peers...*
...basics*
name Jeanette Cassie Hallbrooke
nickname Jeanie
age 16
genderFemale
grade Junior
hometown Maxeys, Georgia
sexuality She's never really been in a relationship before, and her time in New York is supposed to be mind-opening. In her little hometown, most- if not all- of the people were straight, so that is Jeanie's inclination, but she's struggling to keep an open mind for herself. She goes under the label of bi.
personification Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle
face claim Monique Coleman
...appearance*
hair color Black
eye color Brown
build She's fairly tall for a young woman. She's not thin and willowy, like a lot of the girls, but is instead stockier and curvier. She's not fat; not anywhere near it, she just isn't amazingly thin and willowy. Not too mention that she has a fair bust- her mother used to make her her own clothing sometimes- and wide hips.
height 5 ft. 7
clothing style Her clothing style reflects her growing up in a small town. Oftentimes, if one was going to make a joke of it, one could compare her clothing to upholstery on a couch. She attempts to not have anything too busy, but often fails. In order to counteract this, she will often wear a brightly patterned top or bottom, offset by a solid base color bottom or top. She hardly ever wears jeans- they're too uncomfortable- instead looking for slacks, shorts and skirts.
distinctive traits She notices people's little quirks, and the small details in the world around her. She likes bright colors and patterns in clothing. Jeanie understands a lot about people naturally; it has just always been that way for her. Because she grew up in Georgia, she has a fairly thick southern accent. A lot of New Yorkers treat her differently, due to her accent, apparently.
...personal*
personality Jeanie inadvertently notices all sorts of little details about the world around her, especially people. She can pick up on all sorts of little habits people have; little things such as they like there tea with milk but no sugar, or the fact that they often leave, say, their eyeglasses on the front table by the door and then forgets where they put them.
Jeanie notices all these things and remembers them well, although she never tries to. She rarely points people's eccentricities out to them, but always uses her knowledge of people's quirks to aid them in their daily lives.
Looking to the simple things in life, Jeanie enjoys life in the slow lane. An afternoon over tea is preferred to a text-fest through a cell phone, although texting is a bit better than talking. For some reason, she always feels just a little bit queasy when she has to talk on the phone, even if it is to somebody she's known for years. Besides that, she just doesn't like cell phones. They are dastardly, stealing away from people actually getting to know each other thoroughly in a friendship knitted through time and actual companionship.
Her pass-times in the Big Apple include people-watching and writing. Oftentimes, she'll write fictitious stories based on things she sees whilst people-watching. Two main writing themes can be found in her stories: 1. romantic stories, even if they don't have to do with courtship, are often her muse, and 2. ironically sarcastic stories that have an ending that just kicks you in the stomach, so to speak.
past
Jeanette grew up in a very small town in Georgia. She would be surprised if 200 people lived in the whole thing. The 2 million that awaited her in New York city would blow her away. Everyone in the town knew each other. Everything moved slowly; nobody was in a hurry or rushing- things would get done, one way or another. That wasn't to say nobody DID anything back in Georgia, only that everything was laid back and the little things meant more. In some ways, they got more done than the hustle-bustle, hurry-hurry, ever-impatient New Yorkers.
On August 14th, 1994, Jeanette Cassie Hallsbrooke was born to John Toby Hallsbrooke and Marideth Rose Hallsbrooke. They owned an old mutt named Daisy Jane. Yup. When you looked at it, they were the typical Southern family. Or, should it be said, the stereotypical Southern family. Jeanette has always hated being stereotyped, judged before she was even known. Middle School had been extremely rough for her because of this. It may have been Junior High in an itty-bitty town where everybody knew everybody, but it was middle school all the same. Younger summers were spent frolicking in the sunshine of the warm, sticky summer days.
Daisy Jane followed Jeanie around, chasing after her in the days that had melted past all too quickly. Daisy Jane had died when Jeanie was in seventh grade. As though that year wasn't hard enough were her bitter sentiments on the sore subject.
So it was that Jeanette Cassie grew up strong and slow.
present
Jeanette thinks (although she is still very much a newbie in NYC) that stepping off of that airplane into one of the largest cities in the world after she had been in a town with a population of under 1,000 people was the hardest thing she'd ever done for herself. She'd done it; she'd taken the biggest step of her life- and quite a needed step as well.
She knew that living in that miniscule town in Georgia had really narrowed her views, made her naïve, so she had gotten into Baum, and packed up for New York. Her parents made her take her cellphone so they could call, although she almost managed to 'forget' it on the front table. At her parents request, she's going to stay in a girl's dorm room. As much as she'd rather vegetate in her own little corner of the world, it was closing her mind to new experiences. She had to see the world- all of it! The good, the bad, the ugly...
in short, New York.
family
Mom Marideth Rose Hallsbrooke
Dad John Toby Hallsbrooke
likes
Tea
Front Porches
Long Afternoons
When this trio of things come together with good company, you get an afternoon over tea with a good friend.
Summertimes
When things are handwritten
Photographs- the world through someone else's eyes, or sweet little memories
Gardens
Taking ones time
dislikes
Cell phones
Unfriendly people
Bigotry. Seriously, why do some people think they're better than other people?
Fast Paces (they don't really get more done, do they?
Wild nights/parties. So you get drunk out of your mind, and spend the night dancing free-style alcoholically induced to do so. What is fun about that???
Relationships and friendships that move too quickly (on the latter account, an example would be people saying they're BFF's and they just met each other a week ago)
other notes It's still pretty hard for her to talk about Daisy Jane, because her death represented mortality for Jeanie. She wants to get another dog, though.
...literature*
book title The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle
backstory Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle was the washwoman for all the little all of the little animals in Lucy's town and the neighboring town. She knew all about how they liked their clothing washed and where they lived. She talked to little Lucille and helped her retrieve her lost handkercheifs. When Lucy turned to pay her the washing bill, Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle had turned back into a little hedgehog.
...roleplayer*
name Bertha
age Between 12 and 102. I'm too paranoid to tell you exactly what it is.
gender Female
rp experience Neopets, mostly. I've joined three off-neo rping sites, OUAC included. However, I am also a professional writer, so I'm pretty good at the whole literacy thing.
how you found ouac Through advertising on neo. I think Beckett started that board...
rp sample
Ash cowered as far into the corner of his small cell as he could, his black hair slicked with nervous sweat. His eyes, ebony from an experiment meant to enhance his powers, flicked around the room apprehensively. Every shadow was a guard, every possible flicker of movement a scientist, machines of testing torture lay just out of sight. Please don't take me, he begged inaudibly. Don't take me! He wanted to scream, but that would bring their attention to him. He couldn't. He had to keep himself as unnoticed as possible, doing what little he could to protect himself. Dark purple bags were under his eyes, looking like swelled bruises. He hadn't slept- truly slept- in almost a decade. He hid from the dreams, that might bring horrible memories,
No, don't! That hurts! They strapped him to a machine supposed to measure brain waves, to attempt to see their thoughts in the young telepath's brain, even as he
ones that he tucked away, locked in a steel box. Occasionally, they spilled out anyway, but he always stuffed them in their hidden place again. Those memories were even darker than his regular days now.
At age five, the removed him from his home. He was the first 'gifted' they had ever taken. Not remembering and not caring, Ash had no knowledge whatsoever of how long it had been or what age he was, but it had been a decade and he was now fifteen. From age five to eight, his days had been filled with tests and pure, heinous trauma. Day after day after dark day. Three years worth of days. Days that had layered a black shadow across his young heart. Now he was always afraid. They had stripped him of everything: his sanity, his hope of ever feeling safe and normal, even his telepathic powers had deserted him. They tested him all the time sometimes, other times not at all. They knew that he was ruined, so they tested him without holding back at all. They knew that they couldn't ruin him any more. In essence, they had stripped him of who he was. They had stripped him of being Ash Meydowes.
