Post by Molly Roxann Hart on Jul 24, 2011 22:14:58 GMT -5
•Molly Roxann Hart•[/ color]
pb: Kristen Bell
[/color]pb: Kristen Bell
Age • 25
Nicknames • Molly
Gender • Female
Birthday • August/9th
Height • 5'6
Weight • 116
Distinguishing Features • Tattoo of a swallow on her right shoulder.
Main Character Traits • Serious. Kind. Generous.
Promise Made to the Stone • "I'll kill you,"
Family •James, 65, pastor. Hannah, 67, Salon manager.
Known Hangouts • anywhere there's coffee
Background •
Could you imagine being pregnant at sixteen? Jamie certainly couldn't not until she found herself sixteen homeless and pregnant. The Wilsons were a good kind family, very religious but nice people who took Jamie in once they found her and took her daughter Molly when she was born in as their own child. If course Molly never knew any of this until she eighteen when her parents finally told her the truth. molly grew up well in the Wilson household, but she felt as though she never fit in. Always fighting with her parents, and constantly in competition with her younger sister Sara. A petty fit if rage when she found out she got a bird tattoo and swore to never talk to them again and to find her mother.
A few months later Molly started college. She hadn't talked to her family in over a year before she reached out to her sister who informed her of her own marriage. Molly relized how lonely she was and within a year she met and married her husband who she loves even though they fight. But lately its been hard to sleep next to him at night.
Other •[/color
Your Name/Alias • Kir
Age •18
RP Sample • New York had been filled with stages. All of them, lit up like Christmas trees, even the ones in the darkest dive bars had been lit up once she stepped on them. Painting her up like some old Hollywood style beauty or an angel, all long blond hair and fake blue contacts. Some costume, some gimmick every time. Something to make people notice het. She'd been on plenty of stages around the great cities of the US of A always looking for her own break. Still she'd never found a stage better than the dessert. There was a raw edge to her voice when she sang. It didn't come from cigaretta or drugs or drinking like everyone thought. She'd never do anything to risk her voice. The sound raspy and smoky came from her. From being stripped down to nothing when she sang. Taking out the bitter edge in her voice, the knife that laid there, and setting it down so she just sing. JUst be somewhere for a moment. The desert was the best stage because it absorbed the song and brought it back to her. Letting it come back around her and sink into oblivion all at once. She almost might have been glad too see someone interrupting her singing another time. She wasn't supposed to be singing after all doctors orders. She was supposed to cut out everything from her life before no more long blond hair no more singing no more access to the stage it would remind her to much of her life before and it could trigger a relapse if only they knew. She sang because she needed it, to feel exposed...to show her scars, she felt rubbed raw from everything she carried. Biting her lip she felt scared at seeing the one man in town whose didn't really know. She didn't know how to play this off, her mind not working quick enough to cover herself. "We meet again..." were the words that escaped. Her eyes still wide with fear but her lips closed.
