Post by VIVIENNE LYRA OLIVIERA on Jan 15, 2010 22:41:23 GMT -5
VIVIENNE LYRA OLIVIERA
[/font]"JUST ZIP YOUR LIPS LIKE A PADLOCK, AND MEET ME IN BACK WITH THE JACK AND THE JUKEBOX"[/font]
[/center]FULL NAME: vivienne lyra oliviera[/blockquote]
AGE: seventeen
MEMBER GROUP: crackheads
GRADE: senior
BIRTH PLACE: northern london
RELIGION: fuck it.
SEXUALITY: bisexual
PLAYBY: kaya scodelario
AND IF YOU SWEAR THAT
[/font]" THERE'S NO TRUTH AND WHO CARES, WHY DO YOU SAY IT LIKE YOU'RE RIGHT? "[/font][/center]
HEY THERE, WHAT’S YOUR NAME?[/b][/size][/color]
"Oi, fucker. You can call me Ollie, Viv, or V- my real name is shit. It’s actually Vivienne Lyra Oliviera. My parents were practically abusive naming me. Vivienne is for Vivienne Westwood, who is my mum’s ‘hero.’ Lyra is something my mum also picked out, I don’t know why. And Oliviera is Portuguese, since my dad is Brazilian. So don’t call me anything other than Ollie, Viv, or V."
WELL THAT'S PRETTY FUCKING AMAZING. HOW OLD ARE YOU? WHEN'S YOUR BIRTHDAY? DO YOU LIKE YOUR AGE? WHAT GRADE ARE YOU IN?[/b][/size][/color]
"I’m seventeen, turning eighteen on May 17th. So far, being seventeen is just as shitty as every other age. And I’m a senior, so I’ll be out of this place soon."
AWESOME. SO WHAT ABOUT YOU? WHAT ARE YOU LIKE, YOU KNOW, AS A "PERSON"?[/b][/size][/color]
"Well, I’m pretty open and outgoing. Back when I wasn’t fucked up, everyone still said I was hilarious. Not that I’m not hilarious now, it’s just that with a bunch of druggies, everything is fucking hilarious or nothing is, depending on how fucked up you are. Compared to my friends I’m actually fucking normal, and I’m ‘chill.’ Like, if someone wants to fuck someone up a bit, I won’t really. Unless you get one my bad side, then you’re dead. Also, a bunch of people think I’m a slag. Actually, I’ve only had sex three times, but I like to have fun. A lot. And surprisingly, I’m not thick. In school I am, I guess, but I’m fluent in Portuguese and English and I love reading. I just don’t ‘apply’ myself. Because, truthfully, I don’t give a fuck."
SWEET. SO HOW DID YOU GET HERE? HOW FUCKED UP ARE YOU? TELL ME ABOUT YOUR PAST. GO.[/b][/color]
"Girl meets guy, right? I guess that’s how most of us start out. In this case, the girl was a wannabe designer from LDN who decided to move to NYC. The bloke was some random shithead named Paulo, from Brazil. They shagged for three months, and then she found out she was pregnant. And Paulo left her. He was nice enough to stay in touch and send child support, but he wanted nothing else to do with the baby. He didn’t want me. And she didn’t either; it was back to a shitty home in a crap town in Surrey to live with her mum, who taught kindergarten. I understand why my mum felt this way. Basically, I killed her dreams. When I was born, we moved around a lot. She would find a job, get fired or something, and we would move. I even lived in Toronto for three years. Then, when I was ten, we moved back to her mum’s. Same shit place, same crap town. And all of the sudden, my mum decided to leave so I could have a stable childhood. I was just ten; I didn’t know what to do. So even at ten, I got involved with this chavvy sort of gang. We were mini-chavs, stealing and other petty crimes. At twelve, I threw a brick into a van and got arrested for the first time. From there it was just downhill. I decided to stop doing stupid shit, like stealing, ‘cos I never liked it much anyway. But then I found drugs at fourteen. Weed, ecstasy, speed, alcohol, cigarettes… I’ll do anything. And that’s how I ended up here. Apparently, I’m ‘out of hand.’"
WANNA TELL US SOME LIKES?[/b][/size][/color]
"Pot is my all time favourite, as far as drugs go. And drugs are on the list, definitely. Also alcohol and fags. I love photography and music. People get surprised when I tell them I like the Sex Pistols and Lil’ Wayne. I have eclectic tastes. Sex is fun. Same goes for kissing and just generally hooking-up. I love citrus fruits too, and my favourite colour is yellow for that same reason. I love the guitar- and singing, of course. I’m also randomly a cat person."
AND SOME DISLIKES?[/b][/size][/color]
"I hate thick, minging girls who are two-faced. Also, I hate tuna fish… that one is actually a bit random. Also, I think divvy types who act all goody-goody and judge others are clots. People that refuse to have fun are also terrible. Finally, I absolutely hate snakes. Again… that one’s a bit odd."
I GUESS WE'RE DONE HERE. ANYTHING ELSE?[/b][/size][/color]
"Sod off. Thanks."
WHY ARE YOU SCARED TO
[/font]" DREAM OF GOD WHEN IT'S SALVATION THAT YOU WANT? "[/font][/center]
NAME: gabbie
EXPERIENCE: on and off… two ish years?
TIME ZONE: est
OTHER CHARACTERS: none.
A spiral of breath, smoke-like in the cold, fierce wind, blew from between her parted lips. Her fingers felt numb, but she did nothing to ease the cold. Instead, she sat on the steps of the old factory with her black hood up and hands shoved into her pockets, knees drawn up to her chest. Nervous thoughts raced through her mind as she kept her eyes focused on the ground. Just a block away, cars raced past and horns honked. Back there the madness of the city was in full swing, but from here the noise seemed to be miles off. It was muted, blocked by the old, hunched and gray buildings with their broken windows and kicked-in doors. He was probably wondering why she had come here, of all places. Of course, soon he would realize it: her last escape before it came. She could feel it inside of her, even now, at only two months. Oh, how she wished to rid herself of the thing that had taken her life away; how she wished that she could strangle it instead of sitting back while it strangled her life. She wished and dreamed hard, so hard she could practically feel herself slipping away.
The footsteps brought her back. They were the long, light and lithe strides of a tall boy with silver eyes and black, tousled hair. They were his steps, coming closer and closer and closer… until they stopped. She could feel his eyes, those eyes. The eyes that had entranced her to coming into that room with him. Even now, she imagined those thoughtful, pleading, lovely eyes. But she didn’t look up; she just focused her mind on the eyes. She didn’t want to speak to him; she couldn’t tell him; what had she been thinking when she invited him here? But it was half him, and she knew it was her duty. Still though, her eyes were focused on the ground, refusing to let the tear building up to drop down to the cement step beneath that was dusty and littered with trash. So he spoke for her.
“Jessica,” he said, and the sound of her name coming from between his perfect lips and startling teeth was enough to do it. The tear slid from her cheek onto the step, but she didn’t move. Her voice small, she spoke back between clenched teeth.
“That night,” she replied, enough to make him look away from her perfect face, ashamed.
“O-o-our night?” he stuttered. Around girls, he was suave, but here he was just a kid, stuttering and ashamed. She nodded. “You… didn’t t-tell, did yo-you?”
She shook her head and looked up to him. He sickened her. “But they’ll find out soon. JD, I’m pregnant.”
The footsteps brought her back. They were the long, light and lithe strides of a tall boy with silver eyes and black, tousled hair. They were his steps, coming closer and closer and closer… until they stopped. She could feel his eyes, those eyes. The eyes that had entranced her to coming into that room with him. Even now, she imagined those thoughtful, pleading, lovely eyes. But she didn’t look up; she just focused her mind on the eyes. She didn’t want to speak to him; she couldn’t tell him; what had she been thinking when she invited him here? But it was half him, and she knew it was her duty. Still though, her eyes were focused on the ground, refusing to let the tear building up to drop down to the cement step beneath that was dusty and littered with trash. So he spoke for her.
“Jessica,” he said, and the sound of her name coming from between his perfect lips and startling teeth was enough to do it. The tear slid from her cheek onto the step, but she didn’t move. Her voice small, she spoke back between clenched teeth.
“That night,” she replied, enough to make him look away from her perfect face, ashamed.
“O-o-our night?” he stuttered. Around girls, he was suave, but here he was just a kid, stuttering and ashamed. She nodded. “You… didn’t t-tell, did yo-you?”
She shook her head and looked up to him. He sickened her. “But they’ll find out soon. JD, I’m pregnant.”
