CLICHÉ, karlee evane

[karlee]

[/i]e Sandman's coming in his train of cars[/size]

* OOC Info*

Name : Zeeeee (the extra "e"s were legally added, so it's legit)
Age : four plus teen
Experience : MORE THAN YOU KNOW. </lolwut>
Characters : Missa Kent & Damon Thorne (and Karlee, but obviously, I'm recreating her, aren't I?)

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With moonbeam windows

Name : Karlee Evane Cliché
Age : Seventeen, homes
D.O.B : the eighth of February
Playby : Lara Jade
Occupation/Grade : aspiring photographer / senior

And with wheels of stars *

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[li]Her eyes are blue. Her face is heart-shaped. Her bottom lip is disproportionately fuller than her top lip. Her eyebrows are always well-kept. Her eyes are always swimming in a sea of eyeliner. (Ohlook! that's the minimum sentence requirement. x])

[/li][li]Her hair is naturally black, but she sometimes adds streaks of color (or dyes it blond....). She's five foot four. She weighs 136 lbs. She's always pale. Her arms are covered in angry red and fading pink scars.(Bare minimums ftw)[/size][/blockquote]

So hush you little ones and have no fear

Likes : sitting in the rain, the smell of the earth after a rainfall, thunderstorms, photography, coffee, sharp objects, showing up her self-entitled "superiors", playing guitar
Dislikes : authoritarians, her therapist, taking her meds (so she doesn't), high school, social classes, being labeled, stereotypical populars, pep rallies (mostly due to the cheerleaders, but she's also obscenely lacking in school spirit)
Habbits : lashing out at anyone and everyone, cutting out, picking at her wrists, brushing her bangs in front of her eyes
Flaws : secretive, cold, abbrasive, withdraw, suicidal
Pet Peeves : rich snobs, people who take one look at her, scoff, and make some sart-ass comment about "angsting teenagers", and everyone who tries to bend to the shape of the crowd
Strengths : loyalty, brutal honesty, independence, creativity, confrontation
Weaknesses : paying attention, staying awake, reaching out, appearing happy (or even moderately energized), playing "nice"

[/li][li]Yes, Karlee is a teenage girl. Wow, really? They, by definition, are usually huge talkers. Nonstop, won't shut up, texting all the time when they can't verbally communicate with one another. Karlee is the exception. She's with the side who wants everyone to shut up. Maybe, if they actually paused to listen for once, they'd learn something. That's what she believes. Therefore, she doesn't talk much. She prefers to keep to herself. If she's learned some juicy piece of information, she's not bursting at the seams to spill it to the next person who approaches her. Instead, she takes the smart approach and keeps it to herself to use to her advantage later. Also, unless she trusts you with all of her being, enough to tell you her darkest secrets, there's not much to say.

Some people would just about die if sent into solitary confinement. Karlee is not one such person. She doesn't need a large crowd to make her feel comfortable. In fact, she feels out of place in large crowds. Everyone else seems to know what they're doing, where they're going, and Karlee doesn't. She's not a follower, so going in whatever direction the crowd wants to go doesn't suit her. It's much harder to be herself when there's so much pressure coming from everyone else. She's very seclusive. She keeps to herself most of the time, hanging on the wall at parties. She doesn't mind watching everyone else getting drunk and totally trashing themselves. As long as she's safe and she's fine, everyone else can do whatever the hell they want.

Lots of people like to live their lives under the paintbrush. They act tough, like nothing hurts or bothers them. Karlee has no need for such childish behavior. Only a coward is afraid of what other people will think of them. If someone hurts her feelings with their words, she's not going to deny the fact that words can hurt. Some more so than others. She isn't afraid to cry in public if something upsets her. Most of the time, she doesn't feel strongly enough to cry over anything. On the rare occasion, she will. Also, if someone says something to try and egg her on, she's not afraid to attack them back. She doesn't care if it's considered immature to fight someone. If they trashed her, they ought to at least know who they're talking about.

Karlee never tries to be anything other than what she is, which is a human being. Just like everyone else, she has feelings. She doesn't try to act like some robot that got its heart ripped out and can no longer feel. Heck, she even pines after guys sometimes. She knows she's not perfect. She doesn't try to show herself off, because she's aware of her flaws. She's clumsy, she's a worry wart with a bad habit of blowing things way out of proportion, she's insanely sensitive about her relationship with her father, and she's got a quick temper. As soon as something sets her off, she's off. She'll give you an earful, regardless of your age, even if you're an adult. There. She has flaws. Big whoop. So does everyone else. That's why Karlee's not quick to insult others based on their differences. She doesn't judge based on ignorance, either. Before she makes any assumptions about character traits, she makes sure she has all the evidence she needs.
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The man in the moon he is the engineer

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[/li][li]Karlee's parents annoyed the hell out each other. Everything had been fine when they were dating, marrying, and honeymooning. Karlee was conceived, and that's where things fell apart. Her parents started to argue. That was only the beginning. It continued up until Karlee was about four, escalating as she grew. Either it escalated, or she was old enough to understand the words they were screaming at each other. Either or. Her mom was the powerhouse of the family. As soon as she recovered from maternity, she went right back to work. Karlee's father took a seat on the couch and stayed there all day, enjoying the fine French cuisine he could procure just by crossing the street. One of the advantages of living in Paris. Basically, Karlee's mom did all the work, while her father was a bum.

When Karlee was around the age of four, her mother had enough. She was there one night, then when Karlee woke up the next morning, she was gone. There wasn't even a note to say what had become of her. There was no custody hearing -- Karlee was stuck with her father. That forced Henry back into work to put food on their table and pay the rent for their second-rate apartment. Henry wasn't used to working late hours, and he spent a lot of his free time drinking away his worries. That left him a bitter person whenever he was forced to return home. It didn't help that Karlee was doing weird things. In her neglect, she would start drawing eerie drawings with lots of mannequins and dead stuffed animals.. or procure a knife and write things like "help", "bleed", or "save me" in her skin. Rather than worry, her father would yell at her to stop being such a freak and hit her. Sometimes it was with the back of his hand, other times it was with whatever he was holding at the time. That ranged from a frying pan to his belt. It didn't take long for bruises, scars, and welts to start popping up on Karlee's skin.

One night, she came into the living room carrying a bunch of her stuffed animals. She wanted to show her father what she called their dance of death. She made all the animals pounce around before she cut their heads off. It was a cry for attention, but not the kind she received. Her father went completely ballistic. He threw her against a wall and hit her numerous times over the head with the book he was reading. By the end of his fit, Karlee's nose was broken and the back of her head was seeping blood. She was unconscious on the floor when her father sat back down on the couch and resumed his reading. About a half-hour later, police officials showed up at the apartment. Apparently, one of the neighbors had heard the beating and called it in. The police saw Karlee on the floor. They didn't need to ask any questions. They got the paramedics to take care of "the girl," then handcuffed Henry and took him back to the station. He was tried and imprisoned for ten years. Because Karlee's mother was nowhere to be found, she was sent to live with her father's parents.

Both Karlee's grandparents and Bordeaux, France were good to Karlee. She'd learned her lesson and refrained from showing her grandparents any of her drawings. Not that it mattered, she was still only with them for a month. Somehow, her birth mother heard the news of Karlee's beating and wanted to claim her. As it turns out, when she'd left Henry, Britta had returned to her parents' house in Munich (München), Germany. Her parents were rich enough to own their own estate there, and were happy to receive their daughter. They didn't mind taking on Karlee, either. Because she had legal documentation of motherhood, Karlee was placed into Britta's custody. Her mother was much nicer than her father. Britta seemed anxious to make up for leaving Karlee with a monster and waited on her hand and foot. When she wasn't there to do it herself, she had the butlers and maids tend to Karlee's every whim. Karlee was made uncomfortable by all the smothering. It wasn't what she wanted either, and she started to retreat inside herself.

However, because Britta kept telling her that she would love Karlee no matter what, Karlee decided to tell her mother about her problems. She showed her the dance of death, then broke an expensive vase for good measure. Her mother's face turned inside-out in fright. She got every doctor and police officer she could on the phone. They all referred her to therapy. The one cook who believed her came in to see Karlee, and Karlee refused to show him anything. She refused to be taken and moved again. It went on that way for a while, her mother trying to figure Karlee out. She sent her to hospitals and medical facilities all over the world, homeschooling her to make everything nice and legal. No one could get her to cooperate long enough to figure anything out. Finally, one therapist formulated a diagnosis. He concluded that Karlee suffered from what he called "chronic depression." For treatment, he suggested removing Karlee from her current surroundings and giving her a fresh start. He also gave her some meds to take, but of course, Karlee never touched those.

Being the loving, concerned parent she was, Britta decided to take the doctor's advice and move out of France. She and Karlee were headed to the United States, to make permanent residents. They bought a house in the lovely Windy City. Karlee was then enrolled in Lumini High School and sent off to start her high school career. For the past four years, she had answered only enough questions in class to avoid being singled out, attended zero school functions, dated nobody, and done virtually nothing to attract unwanted attention to herself. Karlee slips through the halls of Lumini virtually unnoticed, except in her photography class. She started the elective her freshman year and hasn't ditched it since. She loves everything about photography, to the point where, as she driving down the street, passing abandoned buildings, she might say, "That is a gorgeous warehouse" and take a quick mental photoshoot.[/size][/blockquote]

*The railroad track it is a moonbeam bright*

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Family [black];;[/black]

- Henry Cliché, father, age 46, incarcerated

- Britta Regensburg, mother, age 46, landscape contractor

- no siblings

- Marianne Cliché, fraternal grandmother, age 78
- Étienne Cliché, fraternal grandfather, age 79
- Heinrich Regensburg, maternal grandfather, age 76
- Yvonne Regensburg, maternal grandmother, age 76
--- all retired ---

- no pets

That leads right up into the starry night

RolePlay sample :

Tally blinked, momentarily forgetting where she was. She couldn't remember falling asleep.. and she was pretty sure there shouldn't be sunlight hitting her face. The breeze was soft and warm -- almost comforting. Then she shook the sleep haze from her mind, and everything became clear. Right. She was on the West Coast now, where no matter how horrible things were up East, it always seemed sunny and perfect. Weather wise, anyway. Tally had always been rather gifted in the art of multitasking; she could stand up, stretch her one arm behind her head, and use the other to stifle a yawn all at the same time. She was surprised to find that she'd been sleeping a chair, instead of a bed of pine needles, and decided she needed to take a moment to find her bearings. Abandoned city. Building. Marching toward the shifter camp. Last night, Daniel had said something about running into another band of traveling fugitives. He'd asked for them to meet him. Yes.. she could remember everything.

Repressing another yawn, Tally wandered over the window. She combed her hair back with her fingers as she looked out at the forest (which, in the absence of humans, had all but taken their city). From her perch, she could see Daniel standing all by himself, alone with the trees. A bitter smirk played across her face. I knew it, she thought dryly. Another thriving band of fugitives? Too good to be true. He probably ran into one, and he or she's already jumped ship. It wouldn't surprise Tally if that were the case. Their proposal was to build an army and march on a force that, once the sun went down, would not only greatly out-number them, but also be ten times stronger. One might call Tally crazy for entertaining the notion that this could work, but she didn't care. She was tired of sitting around and waiting for things to get better. No one wanted to join her? Fine. She had Daniel. She had her switchblade. Tally believed she had everything she needed. Still, someone ought to break the news to Daniel.

Sighing, Tally kicked the glass pane out of the window, saying a silent prayer of thanks for the sneakers on her feet. She'd found them the night before, and, coincidentally, they matched her favorite shirt (which, at one point, had no doubt been the favorite shirt of either a vampire or shifter). Her window was two floors up, so it wouldn't be a long fall to the ground. Then again, she couldn't stand on the sill of that dinky little window. Ugh. Such troubles. Tally swept her hair back, gathering it a ponytail which she tied with the rubber band around her wrist. It was amazing what you could find when foraging through an abandoned city. Then, biting her lip, she squeezed onto the sill in a crouch. Tucking her head, Tally half jumped, half fell from her perch, plummeting headfirst toward the ground. She executed a flip in midair, unfolding her legs just in time to catch herself in another crouch. Her brow furrowed. That was Tally's reaction to impact or pain of any kind - frowning, never wincing.

Straightening up, Tally adjusted her shirt - it had ridden up, and she liked her shirts stretched down as far as they could go - and turned to Daniel. "No one's coming," she said simply, always the depressing realist. But it was true. Who - besides Tally and the ever-faithful companion Daniel - would want to go on such a march? It was a suicide mission. Tally was distracted from that dismal (although to her, it wasn't as dismal as it should have been) thought by the realization that it was warmer outside than it had been up in the skeletal building. It was actually quite stuffy under her jacket. She unzipped it, letting the sweater hang on her shoulders.

So come you little ones and run up the stairs

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How did you find us : .... I think we all know.
Best part of the site : the skin xP
Have you read the rules : NINJA ADMIN FTW! >D

Put on your 'jamas and say your prayers


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[jenna caitrin aiken]

Congradumafrickenlations, you're accepted. </whatelseisnew?> xD Have fun with your new and improved character.