Post by ivy on Dec 26, 2011 21:53:00 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #eeeeee, border: #59b1ba 5px solid; width: 400px; height: 500px;] hey there. the name's IVORY BEAU RUSHMORE! i go by IVY if you were wondering. also i'll have you know that i am TWENTY ONE & loving it. oh. you've heard that I'm HETEROSEXUAL? & that I'm from ITALY? well the rumors are true for once. well I gotta get going, STARBUCKS is calling. see ya'! bee tee dubs, i'm a CITIZEN. HISTORY, well hey, chick--i'm guessing since you've got that wad of paper with a pen at the ready, you want the deets. well, i don't do things half-assed, so start writing. my mother's that typical italian (you know, dark hair, dark eyes, that sassy attitude), and my father's american; they have nothing in common. trust me, i know. i've spent eighteen years with them, and the only common thing they have between them is that they, quite obviously, love each other. And share an obsession with pancakes. Yeah; don't ask. oh, and another thing: they're both filthy rich. as in a-list celebrity rich. Both inherited, by the way. they met (and conceived the fabulous me) in venice, before marrying and settling down in rome with me in their arms. i spent the first four years of my life there, before the moving began. one thing you have to know about my dad: he's unreliable. as in, if he promises to be at a certain place, at a certain time, nine times out of ten he won't be. it's not because he's a shitty parent though--it's because of his job. he's some sort of hot shot for the american government (when i was younger, i was convinced that he was a spy, but soon realised that he was too overt for the job), which means he has to constantly work over seas, hopping all over the world map, family in tow. apparently, my mother didn't mind; no one ever asked for my opinion, of course. after my fourth birthday, we left italy and moved to germany; before moving to spain, eight months later. i soon learnt to not bother settling down, or making friendships that counted. what was the point, when a few months later i'd be packing up those bags again? for the first seventeen years of my life, i'd switched schools over sixteen times, moved houses seventeen times, and moved countries nine times. i made, and lost, my first best friend in madrid. i attended my first party in athens, and my first club in reading. i had my first kiss beside the seine river, and many more in czech republic, england, japan and austria. i lost my virginity to a man whose name i can't remember in prague. and yet; i've never had a boyfriend. chaotic, right? despite the adrenaline, the exciting promises of new beginnings, i hated it all. after spending my eighteenth birthday in london, i confronted my parents--i wanted out. surprisingly, they gave in. apparently i hadn't been as sly with my emotions as i had thought. my mother had insisted that i learned italian, which caused my father do the same with english, so communication wasn't a real problem whenever we switched countries--of course, i picked up other languages also, some more than others, but i was hardly fluent. i would have preferred to stay in england, but it was easier to just move to america; dad had his connections there, after all. it only took a month, for everything to sort itself out. my dad booked me the penthouse suite in the hilton hotel until an apartment was free--but funnily enough, i still live there; i guess i got too attached to the building--and hooked me up with a bank account, accompanied with a limitless credit card. after a few hugs, kisses and tears (all from my mother--my father and i rarely cry), the duo left for hungary, leaving me alone, and free, for the very first time. but despite me yearning for this stability, i now had no idea what to do with it. i got myself a job in starbucks (because although i didn't need the money, that was what people my age usually did), and started to socialise, you know, make a name for myself. i guess i could've finished my education, but with my record (sixteen different schools; sixteen), i doubted that there was much point. et voilĂ ; three years later, and i've ended up here. have things changed? yeah, i guess. i still live in the suite, still got that job, but i've actually got friends now. my parents call, every once in a while; every time they do, they're in a different country, so i never call them. so, yeah. fin. that enough for you, chick? PERSONALITY, so, you've got the point that i'm rich. cool. but don't worry, i'm not spoilt, or selfish; much, anyway. well, i don't give to charity (unless i pass by a volunteer collecting money on the street), and i don't volunteer to help the homeless, but i'm not that stereotypical rich bitch, either. i'm pretty dependant on myself; move around as much as me, and you would be too. i've gotten into the habit of not relying on anyone but myself, so i guess you could say i've got minor trust issues. it gets kinda hard to break out of that habit, seeing as my dad pretty much broke every promise he made to me (which really, wasn't his fault seeing as most of them were about staying in one country and living there forever), and any friends i'd made were lost within the year. i've been told that i'm sarcastic a lot. that i've got a dry sense of humour, and a sassy attitude--just like my mother. i guess it's true. i can be a bitch if i want to be, and much worse when mad, but most of the time i don't see the point. it seems a little overrated, in my opinion; everyone these days wants to be that badass, 'i don't give a shit about you, or anyone' super-bitch. well, to that, i say ottenere la scopata fuori; get the fuck out. i don't sugar-coat, whatever the subject is. i hate bullshit, and i don't like to waste time; yeah, i'm a little impatient. i'm usually blunt when i talk, but i don't mean to sound half as harsh as i usually do. i take care of myself; to me, appearance matters. i'm vain, but not overly so, and no, i'm not shallow. i don't judge based on appearances; i judge on whether i like you or not. fashion's a hobby to me, and looking good makes me feel good. i've been told, many a time, that i'm very confident--border-line arrogant, in fact. well, i suppose it's true. i find that being shy wastes time (the blushing, the hiding, the general kawaii that people tend to adore), and as i've mentioned before; i'm pretty impatient. i don't like wasting time doing things that don't matter. although most wouldn't think it, i'm pretty unpredictable. and, surprise surprise, just like my father, i'm unreliable, too. well, you know what they say: monkey see, monkey do. my mood changes pretty quickly, and i don't tend to stop and think; i just do whatever comes to mind, which i admit, doesn't really please most people. the same applies for my mouth, by the way; i say what i feel. if people don't like it, then it's their problem, not mine. APPEARANCE, i've already told you; to me, appearance matters. well, to put it more clearly, my appearance matters. i don't really care about others--although i do notice it--because personality is what counts for me when meeting strangers. my taste in fashion usually changes according to my mood; one day, i'm rocking that hipster look--and no, i'm not taking the piss--and the next, i'm dark and dangerous. the brand doesn't really matter to me, as long as it looks good. You have no idea how many designer clothes i've seen that belong in the incinerator; money isn't all, kids. i have russet hair that reaches to the middle of my back, that i usually keep straight and voluminous--nothing complicated. my make up depends on what i'm wearing, because obviously, it's got to match. right now, i really like that whole rock-star look: dark make-up, stylishly messy, not looking like you're trying. but don't count on it staying that way for long. i've been told that i'm beautiful, but i don't really see myself as anything above average. i'm somewhat tall, and i've always been on the skinny side of life; not that that's ever stopped me. THE ROLEPLAYER, hiya. c; i'm cherry, and i live in sunny england. i'm fifteen, and have been role playing for nearly two years. feel free to drop me a message any time. c: |
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