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Post by [X] G. i t s i C. o s t a [X] on Aug 1, 2006 20:19:36 GMT
Surname;; Costa
Forenames;; Gitsi
Age;; 24
Physical Appearance;; Gitsi Costa was blessed with good looks in a particularly morbid kind of way. Her hair is a shade of rich dark brown, appearing in some lights as a jet black. Many a time has she dyed it, her favourite colours have been purple and red, but in the end it was too much hassle and she gave it up, ending with her rather glossy natural colour.
Her eyes are a vibrant shade of viridian green, and she often outlines them in some rich black eyeliner and eye shadow. This gives her a rather ghostly look, accompanied with her pallid pale skin, which is mostly unblemished apart from the Maori tattoo on the small of her back. She has an excellent figure, slender and curvy, though she is rather long legged and gangly. In her youth, she was often nicknamed ‘Scarecrow’, but she has grown more into proportion now.
Her voice is slightly lyrical and carries a heavy English accent. It is always maintained in perfect control, finishing off the calm and often expressionless look she has perfected over the years.
Personality;; Gitsi’s personality has changed a lot over her twenty one years on this earth. At first, when she was in the early stages of childhood, she was enthusiastic for her school life, very confident and outgoing. Some often made the remark that she simply wouldn’t shut up. She was also renowned for her constant bossiness and strong will, she was always right.
However, when she moved from Primary to Middle school (which is Yr 5 to Yr 8) she was the subject of many bullies due to her gangly appearance and her corrupt father. Everyone had a go at her, tripping her up when she walked and making catty comments in her hearing. This made her become very depressed, along with the problems at home, and she started becoming more quiet and reserved, always observing others and rarely socialising. She started hanging round with the bad crowds, self harming and taking drugs.
Background;; Gitsi was born in a hospital in Stoke-On-Trent, England, which was twenty minutes from her home in a small market town in Leek. Her mother worked in customer services in a mortgage and insurance company, and her father was an aspiring rock star. Due to the influence from her parents, Gitsi has always loved rock music, and still does. She became a vegetarian at the age of eight, much like her parents, but she did it without their blessing.
Gitsi had always been good at school, getting top marks in anything, (except Maths and P.E, which she hates with a passion) and has always shown particular interest in psychiatry. She lived a fairly normal life until she was 12, until then, her father’s band got no where.
Then it all changed.
His music started catching people’s eyes, and soon enough, he was on tour across the world, rarely coming home to his wife and daughter who had tried their best to earn money without the extra income that he was working. Whenever he was at home, he’d argue with Gitsi’s mother, and ignoring his daughter completely. Enraged, Gitsi’s mother took her daughter and moved to California, never wanting to see Gitsi’s father again. This tore the young girl’s heart out, for she had loved both parents deeply.
She attended her last part of uni in California, and moved out from her mother after a huge row when Gitsi wanted to send her Dad a letter. They haven’t been talking to each other since.
Searching for money, Gitsi soon fell into the wrong side of society. Her dream of becoming a psychiatrist has always stayed in her mind, but it’s a dream for now, and she has chosen to become a singer like her father instead.
Job;; Singer
School/College/University;; N/A
Pets;; N/A
Sample Post;; Tap, tap, tap.
“Will you stop fuckin’ doing that?” Snapped the irritable voice of the twenty four year old as she smoothed down her choppy black skirt, a pissed off look on her face. Her viridian eyes flashed with hostility as she stared down at the special effects dude who was tapping his fingers on a wooden surface, and it was frackin getting on her nerves.
He apologised meekly, fearing the wrath of this rather dainty looking woman, who stuck up her middle finger at him and briskly turned away.
Her heavy sounding steps resonating from her chunky black boots thunked down the hall, and Gitsi Costa shoved open the door to the club, expression cold and haughty. She went and sat down on one of the stools by the bar, it squeaked under her light weight, and she cocked her head at the waiter, ordering the usual.
She heard some jeering to her left, and her head snapped in that direction. Eager faces met hers, and soon enough she was surrounded by people congratulating her on that night’s performance. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she nodded in acknowledgement to each and every one of them, feeling slightly claustrophobic. Effortlessly, she shrugged it off, turning back to her drink and sipping at it lightly, the bitter taste a wonder in her mouth, soaking her lips. She licked them almost hungrily, flicking some of her hair over her shoulder as she lapped up some more.
She wondered briefly if this was the path that her father took, if he, like her, was sinking lower and lower into a dark damp hall of society. Her pills were jingling in her pocket, a violent reminder of how close she was to having a near psychotic mental breakdown. She felt them, their comforting warmth travelling through her body. Her dream had always to become a psychiatrist, not to need one.
How ironic. Her mind jeered, it’s voice bitter and sneering. Gitsi shuddered, drinking more alcohol, as if trying to escape this personal pit of self pity. As soon as the liquid had trickled down her throat, she inclined her head towards the bar keep, frowning.
“More.”
Other;; [editted]
Forenames;; Gitsi
Age;; 24
Physical Appearance;; Gitsi Costa was blessed with good looks in a particularly morbid kind of way. Her hair is a shade of rich dark brown, appearing in some lights as a jet black. Many a time has she dyed it, her favourite colours have been purple and red, but in the end it was too much hassle and she gave it up, ending with her rather glossy natural colour.
Her eyes are a vibrant shade of viridian green, and she often outlines them in some rich black eyeliner and eye shadow. This gives her a rather ghostly look, accompanied with her pallid pale skin, which is mostly unblemished apart from the Maori tattoo on the small of her back. She has an excellent figure, slender and curvy, though she is rather long legged and gangly. In her youth, she was often nicknamed ‘Scarecrow’, but she has grown more into proportion now.
Her voice is slightly lyrical and carries a heavy English accent. It is always maintained in perfect control, finishing off the calm and often expressionless look she has perfected over the years.
Personality;; Gitsi’s personality has changed a lot over her twenty one years on this earth. At first, when she was in the early stages of childhood, she was enthusiastic for her school life, very confident and outgoing. Some often made the remark that she simply wouldn’t shut up. She was also renowned for her constant bossiness and strong will, she was always right.
However, when she moved from Primary to Middle school (which is Yr 5 to Yr 8) she was the subject of many bullies due to her gangly appearance and her corrupt father. Everyone had a go at her, tripping her up when she walked and making catty comments in her hearing. This made her become very depressed, along with the problems at home, and she started becoming more quiet and reserved, always observing others and rarely socialising. She started hanging round with the bad crowds, self harming and taking drugs.
Background;; Gitsi was born in a hospital in Stoke-On-Trent, England, which was twenty minutes from her home in a small market town in Leek. Her mother worked in customer services in a mortgage and insurance company, and her father was an aspiring rock star. Due to the influence from her parents, Gitsi has always loved rock music, and still does. She became a vegetarian at the age of eight, much like her parents, but she did it without their blessing.
Gitsi had always been good at school, getting top marks in anything, (except Maths and P.E, which she hates with a passion) and has always shown particular interest in psychiatry. She lived a fairly normal life until she was 12, until then, her father’s band got no where.
Then it all changed.
His music started catching people’s eyes, and soon enough, he was on tour across the world, rarely coming home to his wife and daughter who had tried their best to earn money without the extra income that he was working. Whenever he was at home, he’d argue with Gitsi’s mother, and ignoring his daughter completely. Enraged, Gitsi’s mother took her daughter and moved to California, never wanting to see Gitsi’s father again. This tore the young girl’s heart out, for she had loved both parents deeply.
She attended her last part of uni in California, and moved out from her mother after a huge row when Gitsi wanted to send her Dad a letter. They haven’t been talking to each other since.
Searching for money, Gitsi soon fell into the wrong side of society. Her dream of becoming a psychiatrist has always stayed in her mind, but it’s a dream for now, and she has chosen to become a singer like her father instead.
Job;; Singer
School/College/University;; N/A
Pets;; N/A
Sample Post;; Tap, tap, tap.
“Will you stop fuckin’ doing that?” Snapped the irritable voice of the twenty four year old as she smoothed down her choppy black skirt, a pissed off look on her face. Her viridian eyes flashed with hostility as she stared down at the special effects dude who was tapping his fingers on a wooden surface, and it was frackin getting on her nerves.
He apologised meekly, fearing the wrath of this rather dainty looking woman, who stuck up her middle finger at him and briskly turned away.
Her heavy sounding steps resonating from her chunky black boots thunked down the hall, and Gitsi Costa shoved open the door to the club, expression cold and haughty. She went and sat down on one of the stools by the bar, it squeaked under her light weight, and she cocked her head at the waiter, ordering the usual.
She heard some jeering to her left, and her head snapped in that direction. Eager faces met hers, and soon enough she was surrounded by people congratulating her on that night’s performance. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she nodded in acknowledgement to each and every one of them, feeling slightly claustrophobic. Effortlessly, she shrugged it off, turning back to her drink and sipping at it lightly, the bitter taste a wonder in her mouth, soaking her lips. She licked them almost hungrily, flicking some of her hair over her shoulder as she lapped up some more.
She wondered briefly if this was the path that her father took, if he, like her, was sinking lower and lower into a dark damp hall of society. Her pills were jingling in her pocket, a violent reminder of how close she was to having a near psychotic mental breakdown. She felt them, their comforting warmth travelling through her body. Her dream had always to become a psychiatrist, not to need one.
How ironic. Her mind jeered, it’s voice bitter and sneering. Gitsi shuddered, drinking more alcohol, as if trying to escape this personal pit of self pity. As soon as the liquid had trickled down her throat, she inclined her head towards the bar keep, frowning.
“More.”
Other;; [editted]
