Post by Super Samness on Oct 14, 2013 11:57:20 GMT -6
Name: Darcy Bridgette Javier
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Occupation: Artist
Appearance:
AI: Scarlett Johansson
Personality: A little wild, a little scattered, a little lots of things. Darcy has swallowed past grief in the form of coke and whisky, in the arms of other men. Sometimes she feels like she’s very lost, so she just tries to keep going. Not sure who she is or what she’s about, Darcy is just trying to make it. She makes friends easily (the beautiful always do) but tries to keep it superficial; she tries to laugh a lot and does anything she can to put colour in a world that is so grey to her. Had she gone to a doctor, she might have learned that she was depressed, and has been since a young age. Instead she throws herself into her art and hopes that she’ll turn out okay.
History: Having grown up in a vineyard in the south of France, the daughter of doting parents, Darcy Javier was a bashful child, always hiding behind her mother’s skirts or her father’s trouser legs. With very few friends, Darcy was allowed to be an introvert. Her mother was fond of saying that she would find herself in her own time. She was given dance lessons since she could walk, music lessons since she could sit still, and various other classes and tutors in all sorts of activities designed to find the passion that would help her come out of her shell. She excelled in everything (except math), but she truly enjoyed playing the piano, writing poetry, and painting. She spent a lot of time outside, riding horses, and truly adored her father who always smelled faintly of tobacco and spicy cologne. She wanted to be just like her mother when she grew up, who always wore dresses and the perfect shade of lipstick, who threw elaborate parties that Darcy watched from the top of the stairs. She never knew how lonely her mother was until she looked back on that time.
During her teen years Darcy stayed quiet but earned the attention of several men, many of them much older than her. Pouty lips, curvy hips, and a body that was generally much more advanced than she was. She had learned at an earlier age than most how to deflect the attention of men, and that some men would not be deflected. She had suffered more than a few unwanted pinches or pats on her bottom, and it used to make her shyer, and more withdrawn, allowing men to get away with it because of her own embarrassment.
When she was seventeen, Darcy’s small yet conservative world started spinning out of control. Her parents, much beloved, were travelling for a vacation when their plane went down, and all of a sudden she was alone. She grieved heavily in the home that they had shared, wallowing from room to room where they were once all so happy. When she turned eighteen she packed up her things and moved to Paris. With her parents combined fortune behind her, she purchased a large open apartment in the city and tried to lose herself in her art.
Truly alone in her life, Darcy slipped very easily into the bed of a handsome gentleman who had joined her during a lonely dinner and had subsequently romanced her. Taking her on a whirlwind weekend of sex, drugs, and other things that she would never have even thought to try if she hadn’t been so lost to grief even then; she had since been introduced to many other men just like him, and didn’t realize until the first gentleman had left a wad of hundreds on her bedside table that they were treating her like a high class prostitute. Wake up call received, she stopped seeing these men and tried to kick her coke habit, though it creeps up on her from time to time in her life. A little bit broken, a little bit bruised, and still so lost from the death of her parents, Darcy vowed to become a famous artist if it killed her, and a little bit hoping that it would.
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Occupation: Artist
Appearance:
AI: Scarlett Johansson
Personality: A little wild, a little scattered, a little lots of things. Darcy has swallowed past grief in the form of coke and whisky, in the arms of other men. Sometimes she feels like she’s very lost, so she just tries to keep going. Not sure who she is or what she’s about, Darcy is just trying to make it. She makes friends easily (the beautiful always do) but tries to keep it superficial; she tries to laugh a lot and does anything she can to put colour in a world that is so grey to her. Had she gone to a doctor, she might have learned that she was depressed, and has been since a young age. Instead she throws herself into her art and hopes that she’ll turn out okay.
History: Having grown up in a vineyard in the south of France, the daughter of doting parents, Darcy Javier was a bashful child, always hiding behind her mother’s skirts or her father’s trouser legs. With very few friends, Darcy was allowed to be an introvert. Her mother was fond of saying that she would find herself in her own time. She was given dance lessons since she could walk, music lessons since she could sit still, and various other classes and tutors in all sorts of activities designed to find the passion that would help her come out of her shell. She excelled in everything (except math), but she truly enjoyed playing the piano, writing poetry, and painting. She spent a lot of time outside, riding horses, and truly adored her father who always smelled faintly of tobacco and spicy cologne. She wanted to be just like her mother when she grew up, who always wore dresses and the perfect shade of lipstick, who threw elaborate parties that Darcy watched from the top of the stairs. She never knew how lonely her mother was until she looked back on that time.
During her teen years Darcy stayed quiet but earned the attention of several men, many of them much older than her. Pouty lips, curvy hips, and a body that was generally much more advanced than she was. She had learned at an earlier age than most how to deflect the attention of men, and that some men would not be deflected. She had suffered more than a few unwanted pinches or pats on her bottom, and it used to make her shyer, and more withdrawn, allowing men to get away with it because of her own embarrassment.
When she was seventeen, Darcy’s small yet conservative world started spinning out of control. Her parents, much beloved, were travelling for a vacation when their plane went down, and all of a sudden she was alone. She grieved heavily in the home that they had shared, wallowing from room to room where they were once all so happy. When she turned eighteen she packed up her things and moved to Paris. With her parents combined fortune behind her, she purchased a large open apartment in the city and tried to lose herself in her art.
Truly alone in her life, Darcy slipped very easily into the bed of a handsome gentleman who had joined her during a lonely dinner and had subsequently romanced her. Taking her on a whirlwind weekend of sex, drugs, and other things that she would never have even thought to try if she hadn’t been so lost to grief even then; she had since been introduced to many other men just like him, and didn’t realize until the first gentleman had left a wad of hundreds on her bedside table that they were treating her like a high class prostitute. Wake up call received, she stopped seeing these men and tried to kick her coke habit, though it creeps up on her from time to time in her life. A little bit broken, a little bit bruised, and still so lost from the death of her parents, Darcy vowed to become a famous artist if it killed her, and a little bit hoping that it would.
