Post by ISABELLE CAROLINE HARPER on Aug 16, 2009 20:42:13 GMT -5
TIME TO LAY CLAIM TO THE EVIDENCE
ISABELLE CAROLINE HARPER
FINGERPRINTS SELL ME OUT BUT OUR FOOTPRINTS' WASHED AWAY
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FROM THE DOCKS DOWNTOWN
THE BASICS
ITS BEEN GETTING LATE FOR DAYS
ISABELLE CAROLINE HARPER
FINGERPRINTS SELL ME OUT BUT OUR FOOTPRINTS' WASHED AWAY
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FROM THE DOCKS DOWNTOWN
THE BASICS
ITS BEEN GETTING LATE FOR DAYS
NAME • isabelle caroline harper
NICKNAMES • is
GENDER • female
AGE • fifteen
YEAR • fifth year
HOUSE • ravenclaw
BLOOD • pureblood
SEXUALITY • straight
WAND • mahogany, 10 1/4 inches, veela hair core
CANON OR ORIGINAL? • canon
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AND I FEEL MYSELF DESERVING OF A LITTLE TIME OFF
APPEARANCE
WE CAN KICK IT, HANG FOR HOURS
AND I FEEL MYSELF DESERVING OF A LITTLE TIME OFF
APPEARANCE
WE CAN KICK IT, HANG FOR HOURS
PLAY-BY • alexis bledel
APPEARANCE •
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AND JUST MOUTH OFF ABOUT THE WORLD
PERSONALITY
AND HOW WE KNOW IT'S GOING STRAIGHT TO HELL
AND JUST MOUTH OFF ABOUT THE WORLD
PERSONALITY
AND HOW WE KNOW IT'S GOING STRAIGHT TO HELL
LIKES •
DISLIKES •
STRENGTHS •
WEAKNESSES •
FEARS •
GOALS •
PATRONUS • peacock
BOGGART • biological father holding a bloody knife
AMORTENTIA • seaside air
PERSONALITY •
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PASS ME ANOTHER BOTTLE, HONEY
FAMILY
THE JAGER'S SO SWEET BUT IF IT KEEPS YOU AROUND, THEN I'M DOWN
PASS ME ANOTHER BOTTLE, HONEY
FAMILY
THE JAGER'S SO SWEET BUT IF IT KEEPS YOU AROUND, THEN I'M DOWN
HOMETOWN • Reims, France
CURRENT RESIDENCE • a flat downtown london
FATHER •
MOTHER •
SIBLINGS •
PETS • n/a
FAMILY HISTORY •
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MEET ME ON THAMES STREET, I'LL TAKE YOU OUT
ABOUT THE ROLEPLAYER
THOUGHT I'M HARDLY WORTH YOUR TIME
MEET ME ON THAMES STREET, I'LL TAKE YOU OUT
ABOUT THE ROLEPLAYER
THOUGHT I'M HARDLY WORTH YOUR TIME
NAME/ALIAS • carlee/eddeh
AGE • seventeen
GENDER • female
EXPERIENCE • five years
CODE WORD • n/a
ROLEPLAYING SAMPLE •As the rueful melody continued on, a scent caught Edward's nose. He realized that she'd been there for some time, and though he wasn't embarrassed to be caught composing, the vampire softened his playing. Too late to greet Bella, he looked to his wife and let a sad smile appear across his pale angelic face. He turned back to the piano, his lament intensifying. She leaned against him, comforting his woes it seemed, and a soft statement escaped from her ruby lips, "It's sad."
Edward nodded without returning his gaze to his Bella. Once more he was in another time, a somewhat simpler time. The notes became background noise and Edward's head was filled with the loud screams of the last place he had lived. Agony filled his chest, and again Edward was seventeen, only this time his eyes were green.
My father was dead, that I already knew. What hadn't occurred to me yet, was the fact that my mother–who had also contracted the Spanish Influenza, like myself–had been missing from our room for days. It wasn't even when Carlisle came to visit me later, that I realized she was gone. He sat with me for awhile, purely torn between giving me an overdose of morphine or keeping the promise he'd made to the bronze haired, green eyed woman he called Mrs. Masen. Of course being quarantined, I hadn't the slightest what he was contemplating. And then, it burned. Fire tore through my wrists, then my neck. The venom in my body lasted for what seemed like an eternity, until my heart stopped beating.
"What’s got you down?” the simple question sprung out of nowhere, but it pulled Edward back to the present. Bella's simple stare looked torn now too, between confusion and expectancy. He calmed his hands and slowly stopped playing, giving himself time to collect his thoughts. Finally his composition was done–no doubt Edward would remember it later–and Bella's husband turned to face his wife.
"Nothing," he started, "and everything at the same time." He wasn't sure how to explain the mourning of his quite possibly non-existent soul. Moments passed as Edward quietly found his voice; his decision. Finally he spoke again, "It's nothing to be worried about."
He wrapped his arms around the little woman he called love, quickly bending his head down to reassure her with a kiss on her forehead. Edward inhaled then, and a mixture of remorse and nostalgia for his missing blood lust entered his mind. Instead the floral air filled his nostrils and reminded him of the heart inside his wife that would no longer beat. Why is my mind torturing me so? The thought seared his silent mind, giving Edward an excuse to close his eyes.
"If it wasn't important you wouldn't be thinking about it," the mumbled words rang out of the silence, and Edward sat stiff. Bella was right, she of all people deserved to know about the inter-workings of his abnormal mind. She also deserved the same respect that she gave him–telling him what she was thinking, as he couldn't read her mind. Thinking before he spoke, Edward was pulled once more into a time when he wasn’t so abnormal.
I still feel the wind sometimes, of that cold snowy November. I can hear the way the lake effect breeze whistled through the windows of our schoolroom–resonating against our uncomfortable posture chairs–giving an extra bite to the air around us. Still in junior high, it must have been half a decade before the epidemic hit; I recall the end of my music class. The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, but as I stacked my schoolbooks Mrs. Shelton called me to the front of the room. I wondered what she could want with me–as I never spoke out of turn in her class–or any other for that matter–but I tensed as I approached her desk.
"Edward, you've been a very fine student," the middle aged teacher praised me and immediately I relaxed. Her soft face smiled at me, her temples twitching as they were held in place by a smooth black bun. She continued, "I was hoping you could help a fellow student with her musical talent." I didn't even need the oddity I gained later in my existence. Who she meant, gifted with reading people I just knew; Martha Gables. The girl whom occupied the desk next to mine was in grave need of a music lesson outside the class. Of course I obliged.
"C’mon. I’ve had too many years to learn what you’re like. You can’t expect me to just let it go," Bella's sorrowful smile warmed Edward's still heart. Her arms slid around his waist and her bronze haired beau returned the embrace. Though his mind was still silent of her voice Edward was sure Bella's thoughts were bouncing off the walls. Curiosity almost always won out in her case. Edward loosened his hold on Isabella Swan, readjusting so he could see her face better.
"I'm just," he paused trying to find the right word without giving away his apprehensive thoughts, "reminiscing." Edward's continuance was interrupted however by the tinkling of keys. A crooked smile grew into an oversized grin on his face. Bella's unattractive melody was music to his ears, and Edward lightly laid his own hand above hers, caressing her hand into the motions of her lullaby.
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IN THE COLD YOU LOOK SO FIERCE
CREDIT
BUT I'M WARMING UP BECAUSE THE TENSION'S LIKE A FIRE
IN THE COLD YOU LOOK SO FIERCE
CREDIT
BUT I'M WARMING UP BECAUSE THE TENSION'S LIKE A FIRE
this application was made by TAYLOR and is for Six Feet Under The Stars only! the lyrics are by all time low, colour by the colour blender. anyone caught stealing this will face some serious shiz, so don't do it, kay? have fun!
