Post by tilly on Sept 5, 2010 20:54:31 GMT -5
TILLY STANDS AT THE TOP OF THE STAIRS
[/color][/font]AS SHE'S LEAVING HER FATHER STARES
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WHAT HAS SHE COME TO?
[/color]ANOTHER BOY SHE RUNS TO TONIGHT[/font][/center]
NICKNAMES: Tilly.
GENDER: Female.
AGE: 19.
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual.
OCCUPATION: Waitress and horse trainer.
CANON OR ORIGINAL: Original. [/color][/font]
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POWERLESS HE JUST SHAKES HIS HEAD
[/color]HE'S DISAPPOINTED AND OFF TO BED[/font][/center]
HAIR: Long, blonde. Curly or straight, depending on the day.
EYES: Gray/blue.
HEIGHT & WEIGHT: 5’8 & 127 lbs.
Physical description: Blessed with fast metabolism, Tilly has no problem keeping off weight of all the food that she eats. Although, sometimes, she feels like that is not merely enough, which drives her to work out. With the result of both a high metabolism and everyday work out, she has an outstanding body. Uncover her to find she has an attractive shape of abs and muscles from working out and years of working with horses. Her skin is kissed with a tint of a soft golden bronze hue from residing in the sun most hours of the day. Tilly doesn’t usually wear a lot of makeup; she’s found that she’s one of the few girls left with that feature.
Amongst her skin, her blue/gray eyes stand out against the tone and her blonde hair. Most gazes are drawn to her eyes right away. Tilly’s eyes are light blue flecked with darker tones of blue and many hues of gray. Depending on what she feels like that morning, her hair will either be straight or curly. Though, most day she’s usually lazy and just throws her hair up in a messy bun or pony tail, especially when she’s at the barn. Her well defined hips are pierced.
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:Her breathtaking eyes, pierced hips and long blonde hair. [/color][/font]
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BUT HE WON'T BE SLEEPING
[/color]BECAUSE THE HOURS SHE'S KEEPING ARE NOT RIGHT[/font][/center]
DISLIKES: arrogant people, bullies, selfishness, rude comments and remarks, popcorn, idiots, immature people, loud noises.
STRENGTHS: riding, writing, singing, being a great friend.
WEAKNESSES: emotions, apologizing, math, trusting.
HABITS/QUIRKS: bite the inside of cheeks and lip, cross arms over stomach, stare at the ground, giggle randomly, mood swings.
OVERALL PERSONALITY:
No matter the subject, there’s always passion burning fierce in Tilly’s eyes. If you dare to let angry words slip out between your lips in the form of an argument, I assure you that you will most likely lose the fight. So back down while you have the chance. Convince her that you’re worthy of her heart and give her your love, she’ll show you undying love that will never be ripped away from you. Tilly will love you more than she loves herself. Even if you aren’t worthy of a second chance after you mess up, she’ll most likely give you more and more chances. She lies to herself, telling herself that maybe you’ll change. Mess her with her horse, she’ll never let you live a decent life again. Her number one passion of her life: horses. If she ever had to pick between her horse, a boyfriend, best friend, ect. She would definitely pick her horse. Horses are the only things that have shown her unconditional love. Never ever will she choose a person over her horse.
Everyone loves having a good time, at least once a while, no? But coming along with interacting with people, there needs to be times of seclusion for Tilly. Unless you dig deep, she’ll never reveal her true emotions with someone. She’s scared of burdening anyone with her problems and her inner fight with herself. Maybe you’ll actually pay attention to her actions and notice that she doesn’t lock eyes with many people, she fiddles with her fingers, ignores the remarks that make her cringe and is scared to let people in. Soft words are muttered from her mouth, tender syllables slip out into the air, careful not to attract too much attention. Her mind is overflowing with emotions and thoughts that can’t seem to leak out, so she’s stuck in there, drowning.
Want a night full of unforgettable memories and a hand full of inside jokes that will last a life time? Go hang out with Tilly. Anytime horrible stuff happens or it’s just a bad day, depend on Tilly. She’ll make your stomach hurt from laughing so hard and your cheeks ache from smiling. Even if Tilly is in a bad mood, she’ll do anything to brighten your day whether it’s from acting goofy, taking you out for a night in town or just sitting around and talking and laughing. With all the silly faces she makes and the little actions she does, she will never fail to brighten your day.
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SHE'S ASKING A QUESTION HOW WILL I BE
[/color]WHEN THIS NEXT ONE EVENTUALLY LEAVES ME?[/font][/center]
Laura Rose - 44, Nurse.
Doug Rose - 46, Therapist.
SIBLINGS:
Carter Rose - 21, college student.
OTHER FAMILY:
Emma Rose, deceased.
PETS: –
OVERALL HISTORY: Growing up, neither of Tilly’s parents were around much since her mom worked at the hospital during most of the day and her father had many appointments as he was a very good therapist. But they tried. Her father, Doug, did most of the cooking and aid for Tilly and her brother, Carter, if their mother was out working at the hospital. Never failing, Doug and Laura found ways for their busy schedules to work so that they could spend time with their two children. On the nights that they didn’t have that quality time, Carter would take Tilly and they’d make each other sandwiches or whatnot and play games. The two of them always found something to do. Being two years older than his younger sister, Carter found it his job to take care of Tilly if his parents weren’t around. It’s just the way he was brought up. Sometimes, during the summer, the family found just enough time to go on a vacation for a couple weeks. All in all, they were all happy.
When Tilly was ten years old, Laura gave birth to little baby Emma. Wanting to help, Tilly followed her mother around and helped with any little chore or action that she could do to help with her little sister. Over the years, Tilly grew to love little brown haired Emma and would hover over her. Carter would go with them on walks to the park that resided down the road and they’d spend hours there, playing with Emma and bonding. Her laugh would ring in Tilly’s ears for the rest of the night, always pulling a smile across Tilly’s face. Never failing.
Three years after Emma was born, Tilly, her mother, and Emma were on their way back from the beach. The sun was setting, spreading it’s last dying rays across the land blindingly. Stretching across the newly paved road, the golden streaks bounced off and reached for anything to grip onto. Throwing on her sunglasses, Laura strained her eyes even behind the shaded glasses. Squinting against the bright rays, the woman turned around the bend and suddenly hit an oncoming SUV on the left side of their little red car. Instantly, things went black for Tilly. Waking in the hospital days later, Tilly was in the best condition out of all three females that were inside the car. Laura suffered many broken bones and a severe concussion and Emma died instantly while Tilly only had a broken arm.
Nobody within the family was ever the same and never will be. Laura could not stop blaming herself for the death of her baby girl. Even though it was his life’s job, Doug had no idea what to tell his wife. He was good with a advice for other people, but what was he to say to his wife about their dead child? Both of Tilly’s parents drew away from everybody, including drawing away from each other. Laura went to work at the hospital more and Doug filled up his weekly planner with appointments. Maybe it was their way of coping with the everyday pain; sidetrack their mind with work so they couldn’t think of anything else. Carter grew angry at the world, angry at what had happened to his baby sister, his sister than everyone had loved so dearly. Although he couldn’t stand anybody else, Carter still tried to be there for Tilly, trying to preserve their bond; making sure nothing could ever happen to her that would take her away from him.
And, well, that night, something died in Tilly; something huge. The brokenness can never be fixed, it can never be mended. But it can be built up, layer something good over it, like making a blanket. Put the heavier, softer and warmer layers over the mangles, strangled bottom blanket. But there’s always that bitter coldness that can tear through it so easily. If you have ever lost someone very important to you, then you already know how it feels; and if you haven't, you cannot possibly imagine it.
As soon as she could, Tilly moved away with her horse. She just couldn’t stand living in that house anymore, watching her parents walk around like zombies. The young lady needed a chance to live her life again, become happy once again. So here she is, seven years after the accident. She’s ready, oh so ready. Not a lot of people live these days, people just exist. But Tilly’s sick of just existing. She’s going to start living. Stepping one foot down at Pinewood, she’s here and she’s ready.[/color][/font]
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HOW CAN A MAN BE ALL THAT THEY SAY
[/color]WHEN ALL THAT I KNOW IS MEN RUNAWAY?[/font][/center]
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
Fingers ached for the feeling of gripping a pencil hard in her hand, longing for the time to be able to write at this moment. Squeezing her hands around the steering wheel harder, Tilly turned into her driveway sharply. Memories from her favorite uncle’s cabin were kept on replay within her mind, going through the same scenes and same sounds and images. Fiddling with the key, she finally pushed the entrance of her home open. Taking care of everything, she pulled a water from the fridge and settled on her couch. Paper and pencil in hand, she started writing away furiously.
“The bellowing breeze is my father and the rain is my mother. Nature is my guardian and nothing else I give a bother. Every summer, the cabin is my playground; sanctuary. It’s my version of an island in the middle of the sea; my troubles are captured and secluded away from the trees that surround the wooden cabin. The cabin is my faraway place. Many memories are locked and stored in every inch of the many acres of land. As for most people, there is always one memory that you can’t ever forget, one that always makes you grin no matter where you are.
Every year, my family and relatives gather to my favorite uncle’s cabin, Dennis’s. When I think of it, I spot crimson dawns, owls skimming over the tree’s tops, wildflowers tickling the long, golden grass. Every night, I would climb down from the loft in the cabin, notebook and pencil in hand, I would be careful not to step on a sleeping body and awake them from their dreaming souls. Releasing the door from its locked grip, I would slip out onto the wooden porch. Glancing around, everything is stricken with a moonlit kiss. Slipping on my nearby vacant shoes, my skin collided with the chilled fabrics. Straining my sight in the dark, I glance up on the large hill, peering through the birch trees to finally catch sight of my parent’s tent along with tents belonging to other family members. Relieved, none of their lanterns were giving off light and the fire was dying. They were asleep. Picking up each of my feet tenderly, I moved carefully around the porch, careful not to make any loud noise that would wake the sleeping people inside the cabin. Down the steps I moved, off I went into the night.
Pit, pat. Pit, pat. Pit pat pit pat. My footsteps seemed to echo in the quiet forest. Digging my heels into the moistened earth below me, I pushed off into a run. Splitting the air with my body, I moved carelessly through the moonlit trees, wild birds overhead me, the moon on their backs and their silent wings. They were leaving, escaping. Just like me. Echoing the thousands of leaves that accompanied the branches of trees, my notebook’s pages fluttered in the flowing wind as I hurried, creating a soothing musical theme song, in a way.
Run, run!
My destined place needed to be reached, every night, I needed to be there; longed to be there. It was so peaceful, so quiet; so heaven-like. Everything slipped away, no troubles fought me; the only things that touched me were the breeze and my pencil as I wrote on my beloved paper. Running through the rugged forest, I swerved and twirled around the trees that blocked my path. I knew this part of the forest like a taxi driver knew the city streets. I migrated this way each night, looking for a release. I always found one in writing. I kept going, moving quicker, with more and more sudden urgency, terrified that I wouldn’t get there quick enough, nervous that I wouldn’t have time to write. But I always did and it would always be there. Excitement grew in me as I dodged bushes that lay in my way, jumping over fallen logs that I found no reason to move. Soon, I’d be there.
Almost there!
Peering through the leaves and branches that hid and secluded the quiet spot, I slid through the leaves that hung down from their branches. Gliding through, my body was hit with a wave of fresh air, warmth and a feeling of comfort. Something most people might skip by, not even noticed, but not me, I notice everything. Glancing around, I took in a deep breath, awed in such beauty that this place held within. The moonlight struck down, the rays were visible against the ashen sky, accenting the meadow with such artistic and natural beauty. Tufts of grass spurted up against the dark grays of the rocks that stood out as freckles on the green grass, water trickled in the creek that runs through the west side of the meadow, the birch trees hissed and lulled at the same time, creating such a calming scene. It was perfect. I moved slowly, slipping off my shoes and letting the dew glazed grass lick at my feet, massaging them. Plopping down, I rested on my stomach; my notebook set upon a flat rock and unbridled my mind, letting the words flow upon the sheet of paper.
When the sun begins to die behind the stalks of corn,
when mother nature takes short, quick rasps of breath,
the air stirs my hair, flirting with each strand lazily,
the sun kissing my skin with it’s last dying strength.
Please, just give me a chance.
Let me uphold my composure so I can tell you another secret.
Give me another second to grit my teeth and hold back the tears.
Please, give me a chance to open up to you.
Slithering across every crevice, the wind carries my burdens.
Breathe in deep, take all my words in; let them sink in.
Look to sky; sweep your gaze over the beautiful hues.
These hours are when the clouds turn to rainbows.
Please, just give me a chance.
I know my problems don’t matter to most, so I hold them all inside, ready to explode.
I don’t want to hide; I just want to escape.
Don’t give up on me; let me show you all I can be.
Let’s run to the cornfields, lose ourselves in the never ending waves of stalks.
Force them to wash away these feelings of hate towards myself;
run faster, make the green plants scrape off the disgust.
Move, move, please, don’t ever let them find me. I beg you.
Please, just give me a chance.
I can’t believe that life works this way.
I’ve fallen so hard; it’s hard not to stay down on the ground where I feel I belong.
Help me understand why I am this way.
Brush your fingertips across the old wood you sit upon,
feel the age, the wear and tear it’s been through.
But it’s still strong, supporting both of our bodies.
Supporting all the emotion I’m pouring out to you.
For that old tree house is just like my heart.
Please, just give me a chance.
Let me explain why I feel the way I do.
Allow me a few moments to suck in the hate and breathe out love.
That’s what I do, wrestle the storm and produce the rainbow.
Times like these that make me strongest,
Two masses upon the lanky build of an old tree fort,
ready to take on the world, the problems, the fear.
With the sun caressing my body, safety felt in my heart, I’m ready.
Please, just give me a chance.
I’m a mess, yeah, I’m worse than a wreck. But don’t give up on me.
I’ll wait here and rebuild myself with the strength you pass onto me.
Don’t ever leave; because I’ll be honest, you’re my strength and safety.
I’m scared I’ll never feel like this again. Content; calm; peaceful; safe; fearless.
Pushing myself up, I supported my body weight with my elbow. I felt better, like something that had been weighing me down, tugging to get out of me, was finally released. Closing my eyes and breathing in deep, I smiled softly in the silence. Nature lulled me to sleep right there, there was nothing I could do to stop it; to overcome it. Awaking right before dawn colored the forest, I wiped my eyes before gathering my notebook and pencil. Standing, I glanced around before I spotted my shoes and jogged to them, slipping my bare feet into them. Wiggling my toes, I stretched, my arms reaching high over my head and took a deep breath in. Taking off at a run, I hurried towards my favorite cabin before anyone else woke up. Padding up the steps cautiously, I moved slowly and silently. Sliding in through the door, I found my way through towards the latter that lead up to the loft; to my bed. Climbing my way over the resting bodies of my sister and cousin, I made my way towards my mattress that lies on the wooden floors. Collapsing, I close my eyes and fell into a calming daze of slumber.”
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I THINK I LOSE JUST A LITTLE BIT OF ME
[/color]IN EVERY MAN THAT I SEE.[/font][/center]
This app was made by JESS. Lyrics by Tyler Hilton and Jon Mclaughlin
