Post by stella maimone on Jul 30, 2009 16:07:44 GMT -5
Stella November Maimone,
twenty two , university student , jessica stam.
first of all , i'm curious as to when you were born and where. how old does that make you today ?i was born here in milan, all pink and gigglely, at least that's what my parents preach to me. I was born on the fifteenth of february, 1986, so don't ask me if I were born in november. my parents just thought that month would be a pretty middle name for me. and don't try to give my some ninety-nine cent valentine you got the day before for my birthday. i won't appreciate and it will most likely get chucked down a toilet, as well as our relationship. i was conceived in '86, so that makes me a whopping twenty two years old.
whats your status here , exactly. can you tell us what you do for a living ?i'm a full time university student, sophomore to be more specific. so don't ask me to invite you to some college party. those are reserved for seniors, juniors and the occasionally lucky freshman. a job? don't need one, dears. i can mooch off of my parents for as long as i'd like, thank you very much.
and your parents , who are they and what do they like ?emmeline 's the mom, christofer 's the dad. my mom's a socialite, if that even counts as an occupation. people tell me all the time that i look just like her, thinking they're complimenting me. really, you're not. she's gone under the knife plenty of times and has had her chest inflated so many times i'm scared that they might pop someday. as mean and unfair to my mother as i am, i don't hate her. really. i just hate what she does to her body.
christofer's some hotshot ceo of some business that's at the top of it's game. don't worry, he's having the time of his life. good for him. he's a tad obsessed and does not take it lightly when you make cracks at his job. you can laugh at just about everything else; how is wife has implants, how he had a daughter instead of some high profile son. but don't worry, he isn't as bad as he sounds.
so what about siblings , are there any other important family members ?lucky me. i'm an only child. praise the lord. it gets better. my parents don't plan on having any more kids. they've learned from the past and know well that another kid might just drive them up the wall. 'sides, i'm pretty sure my mother's a menopause. she's, like, fifty or something.
i see , now could you tell me your favorite and least favorite things ?things i like? well, i'm a strange girl, i won't lie, but i seem awfully normal when it comes to things i like, for the most part. i'm a big city kid myself. i love everything about cities, for the most part. double-decker buses, taxi cabs, bright lights that pollute the sky, even the smog that gets coughed out by cars is a big part of my life. the city just wouldn't be a city without them. high fashion is also a big plus in my book. all the odd shapes, strange proportions, and endless plethora of clothing is like heaven to me. now, i may have access to daddy's credit cards, but that doesn't mean i blow all ofmyhis money on six hundred dollar clothes. which is wear my awesome sowing skills come into play. i'll admit, i'm not an expert yet, but i do know how to add touches to my much more mundane wardrobe my mother insists that i flaunt, making them pop and stand out of a crowd. of course, making clothes isn't as thrilling as inspiring as stepping into a shop of boutique and buying something perfect yourself. it's much quicker and involves much less work. animals are all fine and dandy, and while the fluffy ones with bid doe eyes are cute and all, the exotic ones take the cake. they're much more interesting to look at and make good inspirations for a clothing line. and this goes hand in hand with my love for high fashion clothes. models. i think that they're just as important as the clothes, since they are the ones selling it and making it look so appealing. now, i'm not into modeling myself, i do love watching fashion shows. i have a strict preference for high fashion, and while those victoria secret girls are nice and all, i don't think they can top those high fashion models. and in other news, i do love movies. from those old slasher films to chick flicks, i love them all. but mean girls would have to be my favorite, if i had to pick one.
for every love i have, i have about five hates. but time is money, so i'll just pick my top pet peeves. let's start with hygiene. i don't hate hygiene. i love it. i hate it when people do not have good hygiene. please take a shower and sit in front of a mirror every once and a while. you may not care much about your body odor or your thick unibrow, but we do. do us a favor, please. emotional situations/ stories are never good in my book. i'm not a complete monster, but i can't stand those sob stories. really, i find it unbearable. i'm no good at comforting people, in fact, i'll just make the situation worse. i'm not a shoulder to cry on. sleazes, sluts, whores, whatever you want to call them. i don't outwardly show my dislike, but i can help but squirm when i'm surrounded by a flock of them. i feel mildly claustrophobic when they're around, for some reason... their one night stands, orgys, and sex tapes. which is kinds hypocritical since i have engaged in some not too innocent activities with sleazes. but what can't i stand more than sleazes are children. yeah, i know, they're cute and all, but i just don't like them much. i don't know why i'm so bothered by them, i just am. and one of my least favorite things is aging. growing old. i don't feel mature at all, or experienced. an age is just a reminder of the number of years you have left before you're rotting underground.
so what about relationships , how do you find those ?i hate one night stands and i can't hold onto a guy for too long. i'm bad in relationships in general and i would much rather tinker with someone else's relationship than focus on mine. i don't think 'stella the love guru' would be a big hit, but hey, who knows.
we've asked about family , significant others , but what about a pet ?Gretchen. She's a dog. Named her after lacey chabert's character in mean girls.
last but not least - your best kept secret , what is it exactly ?well, i do have an obsession with my weight. i've tried that whole bulimic scene and it was not for me. so i stuck with diet pills throughout high school. i've stopped now, though. but nonetheless, it would still suck if word got out that i used to throw up after meals.
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[/font]. my name is lana [/size][/font] i have just found you through rpgc [/size][/font] and have also been role playing for about 2 years [/size][/font] as you can see, i'm currently using jessica stam [/size][/font] for this hot character. and i'm sure you'd love to see what i can do, so check the sample below baby - and oh yeah, this application was made by emily - stealing is for losers ![/font][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]hey TIME TO CHANGE
El looked around the room she found herself in, terrified. The man with the remote-like device had disappeared, as well as all the rest of her surroundings. She noticed the temperature had changed, it was much warmer, and the room was better furnished than any she had been in before, despite its simplicity.
It seemed to be a bedroom, with one large oak bed in the middle on which she was sitting. The carpeting was light blue and felt comforting and warm on the cold toes that curled into it. The walls were a creamy white and there was a open window letting in cool, spring-scented breeze, overlooking a large forest.
The only door to the room opened, and El scrambled to her feet as two large, buxem women came in. "Lovely, you're awake." one of them said, in a hushed, almost whispering voice. They each grabbed one of her hands and pulled her through the doorway. The neighboring room which she entered, contained a large tub, chair, and desk-like piece of furniture with all sorts of tubes and acutrements of the like.
El, terrified and awed by her new surroundings, allowed herself to be dragged into the filled bathtub, stripped, and scrubbed down. It felt like the woman were scrubbing her skin off, but finally they pulled her out and dried her off. El finally regained herself and began to struggle, screaming. Who on earth were these people and why did they want her so clean?
Almost immediatly after she started hollaring, she was hushed by a cleanly-shaven man who had just walked into the room with flowing brown locks and serious eyes freckled with laughter. "Ella... welcome. You can stop that now, no one will hurt you here. We're just getting you prepared for the audience." As he spoke, the women pulled a brown dress over El's head tying it at the waist with a black sash. El looked down at it, still listening to the man, but truly amazed. The clothes were smooth and soft and clean, and were in a way elegant, yet they kept her street-beggar feel.
The two nearly silent ladies pulled a stiff El down into the chair and began working on her hair, blow drying it and straightening it as the man continued, "As I believe you know, you are part of the Emotion Lives, as the Fear Contestant. As soon as these preparations are finished, you will be excorted to your waiting room, as will the other contestants. When all of you are in place, the waiting room gates will open and your initial meeting will be filmed live. After that, you'll all be brought out to the Arena, and the Emotion Lives will truly begin."
The women had finished El's hair, but she was too shaken and paniced to even think about the amazing smooth and fluffyness of it. They began working on the makeup, pronouncing the natural shadows to give her an almost haunted, yet very pretty look. El barely noticed.
"Since you haven't actively watched the Emotion Lives before, I'm going to be nice and give you some tips. There are gamekeepers, whose simple task is to make the viewers happy. Your task is to stay alive from whatever the gamekeepers dish out to you, and to make as much realistic drama as possible. You are Fear, you are afraid." El stared at him, her mouth wide. She was afraid. The women fussed over her a bit longer before finally flipping some comfortable black sandals that had straps in the front and around the ankle on her feet. They gave a last polish to her mechanical arm and wing and then pulled her to her feet.
The man got up as well, murmuring a quiet "Thanks," in the direction of the makeup women and a "Follow me," to El, beginning to lead her out the door. Remembering what she was forgetting, El ran back and grabbed her bag, surprised at the feel of her soft, clean hair brushing her shoulders.
She followed the man stiffly to a lavish room and sat down on a couch, facing the metal door that was emblazened with a screaming face. She was fear. This was her waiting room.
El swallowed, trying to remember how to breathe, and trying to think of anything else but the tight pit that was her stomach. She felt like crying, like running, like screaming.. anything but being here. He would see, he would find her! Maybe he was one of the other contestants! Her mind went through loops as she sat, having time to think things over. Which one would he be? Was the Arena sealed off?
It seemed to be a bedroom, with one large oak bed in the middle on which she was sitting. The carpeting was light blue and felt comforting and warm on the cold toes that curled into it. The walls were a creamy white and there was a open window letting in cool, spring-scented breeze, overlooking a large forest.
The only door to the room opened, and El scrambled to her feet as two large, buxem women came in. "Lovely, you're awake." one of them said, in a hushed, almost whispering voice. They each grabbed one of her hands and pulled her through the doorway. The neighboring room which she entered, contained a large tub, chair, and desk-like piece of furniture with all sorts of tubes and acutrements of the like.
El, terrified and awed by her new surroundings, allowed herself to be dragged into the filled bathtub, stripped, and scrubbed down. It felt like the woman were scrubbing her skin off, but finally they pulled her out and dried her off. El finally regained herself and began to struggle, screaming. Who on earth were these people and why did they want her so clean?
Almost immediatly after she started hollaring, she was hushed by a cleanly-shaven man who had just walked into the room with flowing brown locks and serious eyes freckled with laughter. "Ella... welcome. You can stop that now, no one will hurt you here. We're just getting you prepared for the audience." As he spoke, the women pulled a brown dress over El's head tying it at the waist with a black sash. El looked down at it, still listening to the man, but truly amazed. The clothes were smooth and soft and clean, and were in a way elegant, yet they kept her street-beggar feel.
The two nearly silent ladies pulled a stiff El down into the chair and began working on her hair, blow drying it and straightening it as the man continued, "As I believe you know, you are part of the Emotion Lives, as the Fear Contestant. As soon as these preparations are finished, you will be excorted to your waiting room, as will the other contestants. When all of you are in place, the waiting room gates will open and your initial meeting will be filmed live. After that, you'll all be brought out to the Arena, and the Emotion Lives will truly begin."
The women had finished El's hair, but she was too shaken and paniced to even think about the amazing smooth and fluffyness of it. They began working on the makeup, pronouncing the natural shadows to give her an almost haunted, yet very pretty look. El barely noticed.
"Since you haven't actively watched the Emotion Lives before, I'm going to be nice and give you some tips. There are gamekeepers, whose simple task is to make the viewers happy. Your task is to stay alive from whatever the gamekeepers dish out to you, and to make as much realistic drama as possible. You are Fear, you are afraid." El stared at him, her mouth wide. She was afraid. The women fussed over her a bit longer before finally flipping some comfortable black sandals that had straps in the front and around the ankle on her feet. They gave a last polish to her mechanical arm and wing and then pulled her to her feet.
The man got up as well, murmuring a quiet "Thanks," in the direction of the makeup women and a "Follow me," to El, beginning to lead her out the door. Remembering what she was forgetting, El ran back and grabbed her bag, surprised at the feel of her soft, clean hair brushing her shoulders.
She followed the man stiffly to a lavish room and sat down on a couch, facing the metal door that was emblazened with a screaming face. She was fear. This was her waiting room.
El swallowed, trying to remember how to breathe, and trying to think of anything else but the tight pit that was her stomach. She felt like crying, like running, like screaming.. anything but being here. He would see, he would find her! Maybe he was one of the other contestants! Her mind went through loops as she sat, having time to think things over. Which one would he be? Was the Arena sealed off?
