Post by ▌antoinette joy lucas on Sept 4, 2011 21:02:23 GMT -5
antoinette joy lucas
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[/size][/justify][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]name: antoinette joy lucas
nicknames: she goes by annie and asks that most people call her than that. but other than that, no.
age: twenty-one.
gender: female.
home town: mackinac island, mi.
member group: junior.
college: university of thera/new york university. -studying abroad
face claim: mila kunis.
personality:the first thing you need to understand about annie is that she is an actress. she attributes most of her personality to that fact but that brings up the chicken or the egg question. of course, annie isn't shy. in fact she is about the most outgoing person you will ever meet. she will talk to complete strangers and be totally comfortable. she isn't just outgoing though, she is also blunt. she will speak whatever is on her mind, whenever she wants. that has led to most people calling her "sassy" or "insensitive" but she doesn't care. that is the thing, annie says that she could care less about what people think about her but that contradicts her career. to be an actress, you always have to be mindful about what people think about you and annie is no exception. even though she doesn't show it, every comment she gets affects her in some way.
yes, she does care what people think about her. does that mean that she tones herself down? absolutely not! annie has a ton of energy all the time and it doesn't matter what time of day or where she is, she has to be loud and dramatic, that is just how it works. she isn't as crazy as some of the other actors that she has met and if she finds that people aren't responding well to her energy, she will try to censor herself...or just leave. she hates being that annoying girl that just doesn't shut up, ya know? the thing is is that annie is complicated, like every person alive. some days she is peppy and energized while other days she just wants to be left alone. when she does get angry, i would suggest just staying away. annie always acts on impulse and has been known to attack people who are getting under her skin, either just verbally or sometimes physically as well. so just try to read her moods and stay on her good side.
likes:
theatre
musicals
dancing
partying
alcohol
weed
men
getting dressed up
bodies of water
sailing
sci-fi movies
seafood
dislikes:
auditions
being ignored
not getting cast
police
religion
soda
catty women
homework
being asked what she will do with a theatre degree
country music
anton chekhov (playwright)
snow
fears:
not making it as an actress
clowns
getting fat
not making her father proud
secrets:
once slept with a director for a part
knows her parents don't love each other
sometimes lies about little things to see if she can get away with it
history:
annie was born and raised on mackinac island, michigan. it is an extremely small island, about eight miles around the perimeter. her father owns the famous "Grand Hotel" on the island and that is the reason for the family's wealth. her mother was and continues to be his trophy wife with no job other than staying active in the extremely small community. seriously. annie graduating class was four, and that was including her. so let me just say that she had a pretty boring childhood. the best thing that happened to her on that island was that she was given private dance lessons by the only professional dancer on the island. there wasn't even an actual dance studio so she was given lessons in the hotel's ballroom. so annie spent most of her time dancing as well as taking singing lessons from a very early age. she participated in the main land's community theatre there and that is how the love of theatre started for her. it was pretty much the only thing that kept her going and kept her out of the harsh drugs that most of her peers were trying once they were teenagers. but that doesn't mean that she stayed away from alcohol and weed. oh no. how else are you going to entertain yourself? graduating at the top of her class, which wasn't hard at all, she immediately applied to new york university. she was going to get out of michigan and finally be recognized for the talent that she was. she has now been studying there for three years and has decided to take a semester to study abroad to this lovely place. it was kind of her reward for staying so focused during these past couple years. so now she is ready to relax, take some easy classes, and take full advantage of this beautiful places.
family:
jacob paul lucas; father; fifty-two; owner of grand hotel.
marianne joy lucas; mother; forty-nine; unemployed.
style:
annie loves fashion and never goes out of the house without looking acceptable. you will never see her without some kind of make-up on, even if it very light and natural looking. as for dress, she has the money to pretty much buy anything she wants and so she does have an eclectic wardrobe. however, you can be sure that whatever she is wearing, it looks good and it shows of the body that she is very proud of.
alias: mab.
contact information: pm me.
roleplay sample:
"NO! FRED! NO!"
Percy's scream of desperation rang in his ears. It was no surprise to George; the moment it had happened his whole body had seized up in fear, his lungs no longer able to take in air. The seconds began to feel like hours. Suddenly, everything blurred around him. Shooting bolts of spells were now just fuzzy lights dancing in the low light of the castle. The only thing that his eyes could focus on was his brother's body. His own ears did not register the scream that escaped from his lungs as his body unfroze, letting him lunge across the hallway. Involuntarily, his arms flung the other blurred forms gathered around the scene out of his way. George didn't feel his knees bang onto the ground as his legs clasped under him. The only thing registering in his mind was Fred's face, frozen in confusion. George's tears stung his cheek as he scooped up the lifeless body, trying to squeeze his brother back to life. It seemed like ages before the warmth left his body. He was gone. His twin, his other half was dead.
His initial gasp turned into fast, shallow breaths as consciousness fully encompassed him. His freckled skin dripped with cold sweat and his white undershirt was thoroughly soaked. George's body shot straight up, cold air rushing into his lungs. For a second, he hung between dreams and reality, his eyes set on the dresser opposite his bed. Rubbing his right eye and temple, he couldn't tell if his face was wet with sweat or tears. Probably both. He pushed himself off the bed, his face expressionless. He would feel horrible if his sudden rise had awoken his sister, Ginny, who was curled up, her back to him. She had crawled into his bed during the night, sniffling and wiping tears from her eyes. They hadn't talked, just held each other close and tried to get just a little bit of sleep.
Sleep was something that hadn't been coming easily to George. In the rare occasion that he had slept, it was always restless and never for more than a couple hours at a time. Even deep sleep was interrupted by nightmares, cold sweats. It seemed that every time George closed his eyes, that face was there staring up at him. Questioning him with those piercing green eyes that George had shared with him. Those eyes that seemed to ask, "This is the end, isn't it?". Nevertheless, sleep was the last thing that George wanted to do.
The floorboards of the burrow creaked under his feet as he made his way to the bathroom. A shower seemed the only logical thing to do at this time of night. He tried to drown out his thoughts by turning the pressure all the way up, letting the hot water stream over his face. He had developed a habit of turning the water hot enough so that it was just short of burning his skin. It was his way of trying to take away the pain without actually doing damage. He stood under the water, the most movement was the turn of his neck to redirect the water. There wasn't any point in soaping or scrubbing. There was nothing else to do except stand still until the water had sufficiently done the job. Besides, he didn't feel he had the energy to even lift his arms. Not after tonight. This nightmare had been one of the worse ones. Usually they were just swirling images of memories, haunting him the whole night through. He had expected tonight, however. For once the clock had turned to 12:01am, it had been one month exactly since that night. The night that had left him a shell of a man.
After drying himself with limited effort and shuffling about his room to find somewhat clean clothes, his feet shuffled him downstairs. At least it was better than the bedroom. That bedroom held so many images for him, since the day that they were both born. No, he liked it better in the living room. There he couldn't come across old Puking Pastels or Nose-Bleed Nuggets.
