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poetic pink flamingos! Crew
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 Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2006 8:27 pm
Ze Plot
I post this baby first because it's convenient.
For eight people, life isn't something you coast through. You don't leisurely stride in and whip out the crowd, but work simply to get through a day.
What if you were blind?
Or a victim of domestic abuse?
Had a case of OCD or was mentally unstable?
Think about it. You don't coast through life, these eight reason, and so they have to work damn hard to get through a day. Stuck in a library one snowy morning, the eight are stuck, with their own problems, their own sorrow, and each other...
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Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2006 8:33 pm
Rules: We All Hate Them
I could whip out my seven paragraph set of rules complete with a grammar lesson for this, but I'm not. So here are my very condensed rules.
1. You must be literate. By literate I mean that you have a good grasp on the English language and DO NOT use these: **, ~~, or --. If you use them I will...um...let's not go there. Use proper grammar and spelling, no Chat!Speak, and utilise OOC.
2. PM me your profiles with the title "Flimsy Façade". Follow my code.
3. Please post in size 9, 10, or 11, but I can accept twelve. I like colour: can you use it? I don't care about pictures. I myself don't use anime, but you can. Sure. No anime porn, though? Don't be a slut.
4. No god moding. You're not invincible. No power playing: since when did you become god? Also, NO MARY-SUES! I reserve the right to kick you out if you character is a Mary-Sue.
5. I reserve the right to kick you out, delete you if you haven't posted in 6 days, tell you you're obnoxious and kick you out, and change these rules as I please.
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poetic pink flamingos! Crew
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poetic pink flamingos! Crew
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Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2006 8:47 pm
Character CodeThe Parents Named Me
Full name goes here...
Please, Call Me
Nicknames, at least one if possible.
Faded Poloroid
One in IMG, the rest links. Appearance. If you're weird like me, you can redescrible their apperance in your own words if you so choose.
Ooh, Look How Many I've Blown Out
An age, fourteen through seventeen. In parentheses put birthday and horoscope, because I'm weird like that.
The Essence of Me
Third person personality, FIVE complete sentences maximum.
Historia
THREE sentences for a biography.
Ooh, ah!
Likes, at least four.
Get Away From Me!
Dislikes, at least four.
L-O-V-E
Crush, PM me to change.
The Puppetmaster
Your username, a dur.[size=9][color=black]The Parents Named Me[/color]
[color=red]Full name goes here...[/color]
[color=black]Please, Call Me[/color]
[color=red]Nicknames, at least one if possible.[/color]
[color=black]Faded Poloroid[/color]
[color=red]One in IMG, the rest links. Appearance. If you're weird like me, you can redescrible their apperance in your own words if you so choose. [/color]
[color=black]Ooh, Look How Many [i]I've[/i] Blown Out[/color]
[color=red]An age, fourteen through seventeen. In parentheses put birthday and horoscope, because I'm weird like that. [/color]
[color=black]The Essence of Me[/color]
[color=red]Third person personality, FIVE complete sentences maximum.[/color]
[color=black]Historia[/color]
[color=red]THREE sentences for a biography.[/color]
[color=black]Ooh, ah![/color]
[color=red]Likes, at least four.[/color]
[color=black]Get Away From Me![/color]
[color=red]Dislikes, at least four. [/color]
[color=black]L-O-V-E[/color]
[color=red]Crush, PM me to change.[/color]
[color=black]The Puppetmaster[/color]
[color=red]Your username, a dur.[/color][/size]
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Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2006 8:52 pm
ProfilesTwo girlies.
Three dudes.The Parents Named Me
Lindsey Isabel Sinclair
Please, Call Me
Linny by those close to her.
Faded Poloroid
With her hair the colour of rich soil, only five two and 98 pounds, Lindsey Sinclair is not the most intimidating. Hiding behind her horn rimmed glasses, Lindsey mysteriously never appears in pictures, but merely recesses into the distance. Her eyes are the colour of emeralds in the light, a deep green lined with celery green at the pupil. Piss her off and they will be come a hard green, but if you are able to achieve the rare feat of making her happy, her eyes will twinkle in the light. Lindsey wears sweatshirts and jeans to hide in, her hair usually covering her face. Lindsey lives to blend in, lives to be one of many. Maybe she doesn't pull this off, but she can get the satisfaction of knowing that she tried.
Ooh, Look How Many I've Blown Out
Fourteen (September 13, 1992/Virgo)
The Essence of Me
Lindsey is shy and unassuming, rarely ever talking, although thoughts always swarm through her mind, ones she'd never share. Hiding behind baby-blue horn rimmed glasses with hand encrusted green rhinestones, Lindsey would rather play Juliet [+] , her electric violin, more than anything else. Talking does not come naturally to Lindsey Sinclair, but something she has to work at. Like gym, for instance. A solitary girl, people bother Lindsey. So do animals, aside from flamingos, penguins, dogs, and cats. Lindsey rarely talks, and even then she doesn't. Although many might say Lindsey is your classic girl holding a façade, happy but crying, the glitch is that Lindsey never acts happy because she isn't. Lindsey, after having being cruelly lied to at the age of nine, is quite the firm believer in telling the truth, but she isn't above stretching the truth. And so Lindsey is terribly depressed, quietly playing Juliet while she examines the new pink web of skin that, every day, stems a little more until it will quietly take over her arm.
Unstable, Lindsey cracks under the slightest of pressure, worries over insignificant affairs, agonizes over every last detail. She becomes delirious when people insult her and slips into a persona that is not Lindsey. Paranoid, Lindsey hates heights and is dead scared of death. The word sends shivers down her spine, makes the fine hairs on her arm stand pricked. And then Lindsey recesses into Juliet, quietly playing off into teh distance...
Historia
Growing up, Lindsey Sinclair was a fortunate little girl, with two loving parents, Susanna and Jamison, who loved their middle daughter to death. At first, Lindsey had been the quintessential child: she'd mastered putting the square peg in the square hole at two, cracked the code of reading at four. Lindsey was Susanna and Jamison's pride and joy, but the recessive genes Susanna carried had made their way over to Lindsey, lurking under the surface and waiting for the correct moment to strike and turn Lindsey into one troubled little girl.
The day came when Lindsey was ten, a pretty spring day without a cloud in sight, but also the day an arsonist lurked in her small town in Washington. He had set fire to the day care building where Lindsey's three year old sister Kianne was. Kianne instantly died as the smoke smothered her, and Lindsey became paranoid. She worried constantly about arsonists and murderers, abductors and rapists. It made Lindsey depressed and not fun to be around; people were always walking on eggshells. What do you say to the girl whose little sister was smothered? What do you say to the paranoia that followed Lindsey like a worm? You say nothing, that's what. Said to be helping Lindsey by leaving her alone (after all, she had been quiet already), it had only hurt her more. Susanna became delirious and died in a mental institution at forty-two, and Jamison became an alcoholic that took his anger towards the arsonist on Lindsey. And at only eleven, Lindsey was alone, her only friend Juliet and her sister Beatrix (or Trixie). This hit Lindsey hard. Very hard. She would come home, the shell she put on every morning cracked, and run to her room and play Juliet. Slowly Lindsey recessed into the distance, only the girl in your science class who spilled hydrochoric acid on your shoes. Lindsey had become just a girl. People began to leave Lindsey alone, but she was only becoming more depressed and 'insane', as Jamison dubbed it. She took to cutting, took to binging and purging. Lindsey was become troubled, the line of thread that made Lindsey stable slowly unraveling....
Ooh, ah!
Poetry.
Ice skating.
Chocolate.
Writing.
Pink.
Pillows.
Sleep.
Literature.
Color!
Watching the sun rise.
Watching the sun set.
Taking pictures of random stuff.
Daydreaming.
Walking around aimlessly.
Cleaning and organizing.
Fountain pens.
Freedom of speech.
Playing with Microsoft Word.
Sticky notes.
Sugar.
Cats.
Black.
Pajama pants.
Juliet, her beloved eletric violin.
Get Away From Me!
Bitchy people.
People who sterotype.
Alarm clocks.
Finding no peanut butter in the jar when you have a craving.
Waking up.
Finding your jeans don't fit.
Screechy cellists.
Emoticons.
Spasms of white nothingness.
Writer's block.
Chat Speak.
Being called Carly.
Uncomfortable clothes.
Acne, especially the kind that comes with stress.
Evil landlords.
L-O-V-E
Love is overrated.
The Puppetmaster
Secreta84+++++++++++++++++++The Parents Named Me
Dustin Mathew Stanly
Please, Call Me
Sakurai, Gabriel
Faded Poloroid
Ooh, Look How Many I've Blown Out
16 years of age. DOB: 10/24/1990 Scorpio
The Essence of Me
He seems to be a fun-loving, outgoing guy, but deep down, he's not. He's depressed, and has a severe case of Scitzophrania. HE's usually calm, but when the hallucinations hit, he's as unstable as a troubled child on crack.
Historia
Growing up, Dustin was never been understood. His parents seemed to not care about him, and when he needed help the most, his parents turned him down.
Ooh, ah!
The outdoors
Animals
Shiny Objects
White Chocolate
Get Away From Me!
Stuck Up People
Bitchy people
Things in odd numbers
People that go with the crowd, and not with their own feelings
L-O-V-E
None.
The Puppetmaster
[Blood Dragon]+++++++++++++++++++The Parents Named Me
Harra Amazon Rachel Romana Arial
Please, Call Me
Harra, Ray
Faded Poloroid
Her hair is certainly pitch black, but a few inches past her shoulders. Her empty dark brown eyes send many to insanity. She‘ll hardly look you in the eye, but through you, if anything.
Ooh, Look How Many I've Blown Out
15 (April 23, 1991, Taurus)
The Essence of Me
She truly has a duel personality, part of her is calm, collected, and (at rare times) friendly, however, her other side is a demon waiting to be released, violent, angry, and vengeful. She spends a lot of time thinking to herself, because other people confuse her, and she doesn‘t like to be around others too often, as they make her uncomfortable.
Historia
Thought to have grown up as a spoiled child who had bad parents, Harra wasn‘t really like that, in truth, she had a social and learning disability, Asperger’s Syndrome. Diagnosed in the 4th grade, Harra has had terrible depression since then, as well as anxiety attacks, and worse social trouble than before. From childhood to adolescence, she went from very high functioning, to having several troubles functioning on her own.
Ooh, ah!
Reading
Writing
Drawing
Swimming
Videogames (one of the few things she can do with her poor coordination)
Stained Glass
Mythical Creatures
Candles
Pokemon (her obsession when she was younger)
Phantom of the Opera (her current obsession)
Singing
Swords
Masks
Sewing
Velvet
Silk
Satin (the fabric)
The color Blue
Typing
Opera
Get Away From Me!
Bees
Guns
Explosives
Shots/needles
Excessive sunlight
Little kids/babies
Bikes
Roller blades
Sports (except for swimming and fencing, but she‘d never watch them)
People who taunt her
People who don‘t leave her alone when she wants to be left alone
People in general
L-O-V-E
”Men, ick… love is for people who can‘t take care of themselves."
The Puppetmaster
Harra_Wizen
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poetic pink flamingos! Crew
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poetic pink flamingos! Crew
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Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2006 8:58 pm
Setting
The date is 17 December 2006, the day cold and snowy, the time 11.00. You've been in the library for three hours now, snowed in. Your fears and façades are overpowering you, but you're going to fight to the death to make sure no one sees...
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Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2006 9:00 pm
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poetic pink flamingos! Crew
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poetic pink flamingos! Crew
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Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2006 9:00 pm
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Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2006 9:02 pm
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poetic pink flamingos! Crew
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poetic pink flamingos! Crew
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Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2006 9:05 pm
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah.
We're open.
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 11:20 am
There was a scratch on Juliet. It was bothering fourteen year old Lindsey Isabel Sinclair to no end. Try as she might to remove it, it was to no avail. Shaking her head in distaste, Lindsey looked up and absentmindedly plucked a string, the sound low and deep, like the comforting voice of her father before Kianne died.
Kianne. Lindsey smiled at the thought before recoiling in horror as she thought of the sliced face of the arsonist creep, like an apple that had been split in two, then put together a centimeter off centre. A jagged scar had crisscrossed the lines of his face, giving him a look. Although it had been four years ago, Lindsey remembered the face like a photograph. She shook her head, resolving to herself that she wouldn't die. Dying was for the weak-minded, she reassured herself as she plucked the E string, recoiling in horror at the highness of the sound. Startled, she realised that her violin was out of tune, and promptly began tuning it with the utmost care. Looking around her, she shivered in fright, wondering what was happening. Was she going to die? Lindsey picked up Juliet and played, letting her thoughts disappear...
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poetic pink flamingos! Crew
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 11:40 am
I looked out the froested stained glass window, running my hands over the glass until my fingers were numb.
Mother said she would pick me up, but oh how much I doubted that, not in this snow.
I went into the reference section, and picked up another book on Sociopaths, I felt sorry for the consciousless people, no superego, no morals, no sense of right and wrong, and what was worse:
1 in 25 people were Sociopathic.
But I didn't need to let that get to me, no, not at all, I knew no one who was Sociopathic, at least, I don't think I did.
I waived at the librarian when she stopped to see who I was, she smiled, then went back to her own book.
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 11:56 am
I looked around. People looked frantic. Then again, it could be me. I sighed, and walked around again. I grabbed a book about scitzophrania. I loved learning more about myself.
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 11:58 am
Another person? In the Disorder's Reference section? Why in the world would he be looking into these books? For a few seconds, I arose from my spot on the chair, and trailed behind the strange man. How dare he wander into my section!
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 12:00 pm
I suddenly experienced a sense of parranoia. Was someone behind me? I looked around and saw a female. She looked around my age. "Hi. Can...Can I help you?"
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 12:02 pm
Crap... I didn't think he'd notice me there! Gah... I must have tripped on something and given myself away! "You're in my reading section! Why are you here?" I demanded, but my voice was quiet and shaky, of course, just like me, and my problem, my voice was either too loud, or too quiet, usually at the wrong times!
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Reply
