Post by Addison James on Jul 12, 2011 15:56:44 GMT -5
ADDISON CARLIE JAMES
[/color][/b][/font]"it will never make it's way to your soul, until you feel it in your heart"[/center]
NICK NAMES[/color] Addison, Addie, Bear, Ho, Lezzy or Fag or Lezzy Fag.
AGE[/color] seventeen, march 5th
GENDER[/color] female
SEXUALITY[/color] it's no secret: lesbian
MEMBER GROUP[/color] New Directions
PLAY-BY[/color] Maria Sedgwick
[/ul]OKAY, WHY DON'T YOU TELL US A LITTLE ABOUT YOUR FABULOUS SELF?[/color]
EXPRIENCE[/color] about 7 years
CONTACT[/color] aim- emmahmahmah
ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE[/color] random from a one x one :
Laying on the ground clutching his chest and gasping for air was not the way Leonardo Romano had imagined his death. As a kid growing up in Italy he was the sort of boy that was into the whole soccer hype and enjoyed running around on the beach with a cup of gelato. For any sporting event in which Italia competed in internationally, he’d be the guy painting his face in the green/white/red coloring. He expected to die either in battle for a country he was so proud of, or just by doing something completely dangerous and reckless.
Instead, he was going to die the worst way possible. Slowly. A couple years back, at the mere age of eighteen, Leonardo had been diagnosed with a severe case of SLE, more commonly known as lupus. Most people lived full lives after diagnosed with lupus, they were just irritably uncomfortable. But Leo’s case turned out to be fatal- mostly infecting his kidneys and parts of his lungs. As a result, he had many terrible symptoms along with less than five years to live. He was hoping to make it to twenty-three, which is about where it was expected. But if the disease moved any faster…
Leo wasn’t afraid to die. No, in fact the boy was rather afraid of growing old. He couldn’t imagine himself as an old man limping around and struggling to breathe complete with no hair. Well, Leo had already mastered the struggling to breathe part, so he’d be ready if he did magically happen to survive. He had the chance to get better, a little. His case was so severe that there was no way to give him a pretty normal life back. But he could add uncomfortable years on if he wanted to. All he needed was a kidney transplant.
But items in the medical field were pretty expensive now, and Leo couldn’t afford that. At least, not anymore. His parents were rich, both of them being lawyers before his dad passed. It was a tragic story actually, being convicted for a felony he had done in Italy but was caught in America. The death penalty was harsh, but the government at the time didn’t pay much mind to that. That had changed the family very much, leaving Leo as the man in charge of his mother and sister. But it wasn’t too long after that he was diagnosed, and the dysfunctional family had been the perfect excuse to leave them.
He would never forgive himself for that. Ever. He just walked out one day, calling the two most important people in his life “too dysfunctional for me to handle” in exact words and adding “I don’t need this in my life”. His mom had begged him not to go, or at least to keep in touch. She had gotten on her knees and grabbed him when he was half way out the door, crying and begging him to stay. His sister yelled foul words instead or begging, calling him hurtful names.
He wished they could understand. But they were already so hurt, and he didn’t want to hurt them more by telling him that he was dying. His mother, who was a mighty successful criminal defense lawyer now, could have afforded to add twenty years to his life, possibly more. But Leo had felt that telling them of the disease would be too much to handle. Was leaving much better? Not really, but at least they’d think he was alive.
He had spent two years with relatives in Italy, working odd jobs to earn his living. But several weeks ago, he moved right back to America. Right back to New York, right by where his mom and sister lived. He hadn’t visited them yet, not wanting to hurt them. He was so conflicted about what to do when it came to them. He needed time to think throughout the day, when he wasn’t working his sad job at the coffee shop. So he often found himself taking walks throughout Central Park. They weren’t as long as he’d like them to be, but then again, he fatigued easily.
Today, for instance, he had only walked a mile and a half before nearly collapsing on a bench clutching at his chest. A few women nearby looked worried, but when he sat up straight and controlled his breathing they decided that he was fine. He did look like a sickly man…a sickly well dressed man. The clothing was deceiving, since he had bought it with his inheritance money. He actually lived in a tiny box of an apartment, and managed to put a small meal on the table for himself every day.
But the clothes were the one thing he had that was actually nice, so when it started raining, he hurried to find a shelter so the suit wouldn’t be ruined. The closest place was a restaurant, in which he quickly went into the dry area. Again, he was breathing deeply and holding his chest, trying to control himself so he didn’t just pass out or something. It took him a second to realize that he wasn’t standing there alone. At his feet he noticed a girl wiping off her banjo, and he actually recognized her from the park. He’d seen her play there several times for money, and she was good. He would give her money, if he had any to spare. But minimum wage wasn’t much to live off of. Still, as far as he knew, she was more in need of the money than he was, since he wasn’t going to be around much longer.
He decided to offer her help. “Would you like a hand, Miss?” He managed to ask in between deep breaths. He could have sworn that he recognized her from somewhere else. She did look familiar…
[/color]
CARLEE BARLEY !? OF CAUTION 2.0 MADE THIS AND I SHOULDN'T STEAL IT OR TAKE THIS CREDIT OFF BECAUSE IF I DO, SHE'LL EAT ME WITH ONE OF THOSE MELON SCOOPERS!
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