Post by vampiric on Nov 4, 2009 13:58:32 GMT -5
ALASKA CLARA JACOBS.
And you should know that the lies won't hide your flaws
No sense in hiding all of yours
You gave up on your dreams along the way...
THE BASIC INFO.
"i was born in Albany, NY on October 11th, making me 18 years old. my parents named me Alaska Clara but these days i prefer my friends to call me Claire Bear, Alaska, AC, or Clara. i'm local and i'm currently unemployed. You really thought I could get a job?. i stand at around 5"5 and i'm skinny.. my hair is Red, my eyes are Green and people say i look like Hayley Williams. you might recognise me by my . i'm straight, in case you were wondering, and i'm atheist. nobody knows i'm a drug addict..."
THE LIFE STORY.
I'm Alaska.
I was originally born in Albany, and I'll always be a New York girl at heart. Things like that don't really change.
You see, my dad came here on business, and he ended up getting a job here. It's not like it's real important, but we moved here anyway. See, my parents divorced just when I was born, and my daddy has custody of me, since my mom's a drug addict.
Like mother like daughter, I guess.
Anyway, where was I? Right, moving to Chestercroft.
We moved when I was 11, but I've never really felt at home here. Hell, we didn't really have a settled 'home' until last year, shifting from apartment to apartment. It's not like we can live in Quadrant 1, you know. We were in Triq for a while. Not a fond memory, let me tell you...
Last year, my mom got remarried to Chuck. The wedding was nice and all, just not...Mom like, at all. I mean, she's just like me; what, with loving roch and roll, and me and her mocked the other snooty bitches in town who thought they were all that.
Too many white flowers, and white birds, and white chairs...it made me sick. That wasn't how my mom acted. She just became...more sensitive and girly, as if overnight.
Chuck's a Grade A weirdo, what with his bald head and massive Chimera tattoos all over his back and arms and dry sense of humor and being ten years older than my mom (my mom was thirty-something, 'cause she had me when she was a teenager), and I told my mom I didn't like him the day I met him, but does she listen to me? No.
Well, the bliss didn't last long, so to say.
Sometimes, I get to stay with my mom. They're the best days of my life, when we get to go back to the Hudson River and go shopping. Chuck was there too, much to my displeasure, but I refused to let him ruin my tranquility. I'm stubborn like that.
One of the nights when I was visiting, Chuck and my mom got in an argument. He ended up...well...hitting her with a pan.
It's not like we weren't used to that. I mean, I get hit by my dad alot, and my mom was too, and her momma, and her momma. It's nothing out of the norm. We're naturally meek.
Well, that night, she decided to fight back. She threw (literally, threw - you should see my mom. She's the size of a fucking tank.) Chuck out of the house, and got me on the nearest flight back to my Dad's.
I haven't seen her since. Dad won't let me go back there, or contact her at all...
Her sudden burst of courage shocks me, upsets me. Why then, and not the numerous times my own blood father has hit me? I'm mad at her. Still am. I faced that all my life, and she never stuck up for me or herself.
Well, back to Chestercroft.
When Dad got fired, we had to move back to the Triq. He would get really angry and drink alot. I would spend nights out of the house then, just sleeping in my car. I have a Dodge Colt from '79, and I guess that deep blue car would have been decent looking back in the day, but now it's held together with duct tape and you need to jump start it every time you want to use it, but hey - a shitty car is better than no car, right? Besides, it took me an infinite amount of paychecks from Burger King to actually afford it. Too bad I got fired after...
If there's anything nice about this shithole, it's the abundance of drugs. Xanax, weed, heroin. You name it, there's someone who's got it.
And what else...hmmm...I've been hospitalized for a while. For suicidal tendancies, that's what they called it. Biggest. Bag. Of. Bullshit. Ever.
I had a therapist for a while, but I just stopped going. My dad doesn't even care. He's too caught up in his life.
This year, I just graduated high school. Using the remaining of my Burger King fund, I got myself an 'okay' apartment in the Triq. Honestly, the wallpaper might be tearing and you can hear gunshots sometimes, but you get used to it.
Sex, drugs, and rock and roll. That's my life. Not that anyone cares, or anything...
THE PRESENT DAY.
So, you know my past now. Guess I better get on to more on myself.
I'm terribly afraid of the dark. I always, always keep a lighter with me at all times, not only for smoking. I'd scream if someone locked me in a dark room by myself.
When I was young, I wanted to be a ballerina. I admire things with grace. Now, I want to be a writer. It's basically my only 'talent', besides running a mile without stopping to get away from the cops.
I'm insane stubborn, and I don't listen, and I'm easily distracted. It's like dealing with a toddler, my mom would say. I guess I must have some kind of A.D.D. At least, thats what I think.
I love love love love literature. All kinds of books.
Except Twilight, 'cause real men don't sparkle.
You could call me a kleptomaniac and a packrat. I just adore all of my things, and I keep them in little boxes.
I collect music boxes. It sounds weird, I know, but they're just so precious and beautiful. I just love them so much. My mom gave me my first music box. It has a little pink ballerina inside of it and it plays some song from Phantom of the Opera that I don't know the name of, but it can put me to sleep, as it did when I was a kid.
Despite being unorganized, living in the Triq, and not picking up after myself (which makes my apartment look like a rat hole), I'm actually a germaphobe. I would rather die than catch H1N1.
I love musicals. Sweeney Todd, Phantom, South Pacific, you name it. I wish I was a ballerina in one of those plays. Not that they require ballet in Sweeney Todd or anything, that would be weird...
I have the maturity of a four year old, and I'm just about as reckless as one. I always always ALWAYS am curious about things. My mom would say that I'm a little bright eyed wanderer, and it fits. Even the name sounds pretty. Bright eyed wanderer...
Uh, talents...I can play Chopsticks on the piano.
I'm just searching for a place to belong.
I personally don't believe in love; it doesn't do anyone good. Still, I wish there was someone to prove me wrong.
BEHIND THE SCENES.
hi, my name is Marielle/V/Vampiric and i play Alaska Clara Jacobs. i'm a 16 year old gender and i live in New York. you can contact me by IM or PM. i found this site on my radical Harry Potter forum and just so you know, this is what my average post is like:
(V's Note = It's taken from my HP RP.)Liam looked in a little disbelief as she started to rise. Did he say something wrong? Was he really that...boring?
That was before he looked at her eyes. The last time she saw them like that was on the last day of Hogwarts, a year ago...
"Mina?" he said, his voice questioning. She had made it down the steps, leaving him alone in the December air.
You're just going to let her leave?
Liam shook his head. It's not like you can really do anything to make her stay. That thought alone had ruined his night, maybe longer...
We could be heroes...
Just for one day.
He wasn't thinking clearly, and before he knew it, he was on his feet, on the first step of the spiral staircase.
One step.
Liam took a breath.
Even if she doesn't feel the same...?
His foot moved down one step.
Few more steps. It'll be totally normal, not awkward or anything.
Another step.
It's not like you're in love with the girl or anything.
His pace stopped. Nothing happened on the stairway, and the glowing socks led the way to what might be his certain doom, or something else unexpected...
I can't.
His parents, his family was loved by him, very much. And they were long gone...
Everyone I...love....dissapears.
His lips pursued in thought, thinking very hard so wrinkles formed on his face.
The chilly December air spiraled around him like a tornado, the shaft of wind going down the stairwell.
If I never tell them...
Liam took one more step down the stairway.
They'll never know. And if they never know...well...you'll just be hauling it to the grave, won't you?
She was the exception to the rule.
His footsteps down the stairs started going faster and faster, and his heart started beating a little faster. She might be gone, she might have left...
But she wasn't.
"Mina!" he called to her, pacing to her a little faster than normal.
When he finally got to her, he grabbed her hand firmly, trying to ignore the electric shock that came from it. "Mina."
His choclate eyes melted into her blue ones, unsure of what to do at all, but knowing that all he wanted was to be there...
