it has been said time heals all wounds; i do not agree. the wounds remain. in time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue, and the pain lessens. but it is never gone. {rose...

hello.

So I didn't intend to be a terrible person and have awful participation with no story inspiration, but it happened and maybe it's because I turned into an adult somehow (but the mini Twix wrappers surrounding me--there are at least six of them--beg to differ) and have zero ability to prioritize and have an attention span of a gnat. Anyways, I apologize for that.
 
Also, I bought the black tote in the set because I saw it at work and was like, "WANT. NEED. MUST OWN," and now I do and I love it. The end.
 
If anyone wants to collab ever, please PM me because that would be fun. I don't bite. Unless you're a Twix bar. Then I can't make any promises... what even? I'm sorry.
 
Monday October 8: Starting this week, Lola is teaching beginner's dance classes, free for all UW students. If you've ever wanted to dance in a completely judgement-free and fun environment, show up after dinner and prepare to bust a move.
 
[top left—hair: the bounciest, springiest, curly ponytail you can think of; makeup: minimal, but pretty. Also, Ale strikes me as the kind of person who piles on layers and layers before she leaves and, slowly but surely, takes everything off throughout the day/evening/night/whatever.]
 
“Nooo!” Jake whined. I’d practically dragged him towards the building Lo had told me to go to. Well, okay, made me promise that I’d go to. “I’m a terrible dancer! I have two left feet!”
 
“Shut up,” I told him, “this is for Lo, okay? I promised her that I would go.”
 
“So why do I have to go? Last time I checked, I’m not you, you are not me, we are not one and the same.”
 
I laughed. “You’re the distraction. Everyone will be so busy watching you being a terrible dancer that they will fail to notice my own inability to dance.”
 
Jake narrowed his eyes at me, trying to make a grin. “You’re devious.”
 
I pretended to flip my ponytail over my shoulder, grinning widely. “Yeah, I’m pretty awesome.”
 
+++++
 
Post dance class, the only layer of clothing I’d managed to keep on the top half of my body was a slouchy t-shirt. Everything else had been tossed periodically in the corner on top of my bag, and now I was dreading having to put it back on to leave and walk back to the dorms, because I was feeling like a slightly less than fabulous sweaty mess.
 
Jake had done surprisingly well in the class—better than me, at least, but I suppose that wasn’t saying too much—and a guy I’d had a class with last year—Allen? Adrian? Anthony? Kyle?—had started talking to him after the class had ended.
 
I slipped my sweater over my head and, by the time I’d finished straightening myself out, Jake was back at my side.
 
“Who was that?” I asked.
 
Jake frowned. “I think I had a class with him when I was a freshman. He said his name was Adam.”
 
“He was cute,” I told him, laughing as I largely unsuccessfully to untangle my ponytail from my necklace.
 
“I guess?” He shrugged. “Whatever. I have ice cream back at my apartment. Do you want to hang out?”
 
I frowned, about to decline, but caught myself. “What kind of ice cream?” I asked suspiciously.
 
“Three different variations on chocolate, and one thing of strawberry whose origins I’m still not entirely clear on.”
 
“Can I take a rain check? I have so much studying to do for my test tomorrow.”
 
“Sure,” he said, looking a little bit deflated all of the sudden. “But I’ll hold you to that.”
 
“Of course!"
 
Thursday October 11: Today is Francesca's birthday. We all know that everything she does is anything but plain and her birthday is no exception. She has rented out one of the hottest clubs in Seattle and the theme of the evening: My Super Sweet 20th. Expect amazing clothes, guests, and an amazing party...better make sure to give an amazing present to go along with the night.
 
[bottom right—hair, as in picture; makeup: golden shades on her eyes and some liquid liner and pretty pink lips]
 
Erm, unless someone wants to collab, I don’t really want to write a story for this (mostly because I’m tired and it’s late and I need more mini Twix bars), but Ale got Francesca the Charlotte Olympia shoes that are behind Daphne’s picture in the set because she’s crazy and likes to spend money and who doesn’t love shoes? Crazy people, that’s who.
 
Friday October 12: The musical, Wicked is coming to the Paramount Theatre. We are getting dressed up, going to dinner at the Old Spaghetti Factory before, and then off to see the famous play.
 
[top right—also, can we talk about how annoyed I am at the world that Wicked is in Seattle and I am twenty minutes away from Seattle and I don’t have tickets? Because I adore Wicked.]
 
I PROMISE THAT I’LL TRY TO GET TO THIS TOMORROW. I’M A TERRIBLE PERSON.
 
Tuesday October 15: The boys in our dorm are holding poker night on their floor. Rumor has it they are going to try and turn the game into strip poker. Us girls are too good and innocent for that. Right?
 
[bottom left]
 
I actually have zero clue how to play poker—in fact, multiple people have tried to explain it to me (we played some kind of a bowling-poker hybrid last night and I was having none of it), but I’d like to think that Ale is much better at poker than I am and that her dad would have taught her how to play, but being that she’s such a flirt (and that Lo is such a terrible influence), if they do end up playing strip poker, I’m sure she’d be one of the first with her shirt off.
Anyone is welcome to write her into a story; if someone writes something with her in it, I might write more and add it to this set. Let me know!

Oops, I feel bad, so I have to explain, because I feel like this is a legitimate excuse. I'd made the set on Tuesday, I believe, thinking that I would have time to write stories on Wednesday and then post it that night and be mostly ahead of the game, but, no such luck. Monday night, I was at the Seahawks game with my dad; Wednesday night, I was out until far too late buyng supplies for my jewelry design class, and I was essentially sans internet from Thursday morning until yesterday afternoon, and will be as such from whenever we leave today until whenever they install it on Thursday, because the townhouse I'm moving into it is severely lacking in potential internet connections. So cruel. I might actually have to, like, read or something.
In the week that I spent being collegiate, I actually somehow managed to get a job at Forever 21 (seriously, I interviewed on Tuesday at 11, they said they'd get back to us within 48 hours, and they called on Tuesday at 2:30, after I'd gotten out of class early) and also get my social security card by myself. I feel like a success.
Please don't hate me for being late.
 
Sunday September 23: Introduction sets! Today we are all moving in the dorm and meet our roommates. You never know what kind of people will be waiting for you behind those dorm doors so it’ll be an interesting day to say the least.
[Top Right Outfit]
 
I spent the majority of the elevator ride up to our room tapping the toe of my glittery shoe impatiently, simultaneously praying that it would hurry up already and also that my overstuffed suitcases wouldn’t fall to the floor because, let’s be honest here, I wasn’t entirely sure if I’d be able to get them upright again if they managed to topple over.
I’d almost made it to the room when my phone buzzed somewhere in my purse—a text from Jake, probably. Or Lola, wondering when I was going to get there already because she missed me. But most likely Jake, asking if I wanted grab lunch tomorrow before classes began on Tuesday.
With the thought of Chipotle in my head and a smile on my face, I swung the door to room 302 open.
“Watch it!” I heard, yelped from somewhere behind the door, and I caught the doorknob rather ungraceful. I peered around the door, smiling.
“Well, hello to you, too, Lo,” I said, grinning as I tried to pull my suitcases into the room and close the door with my foot at the same time—a difficult feat, let me tell you.
Behind Lola, on her bed, was Alex, and I raised an eyebrow at him. Did I walk in on something? Again? “You know, this seems suspiciously like the last time I moved in. Except as far as I can remember, you don’t go here anymore.”
“I’m still allowed to come see my favorite girl, right?” Alex asked.

Lola rolled her eyes. “Shut up,” she huffed.

“I was talking about Ale, not you,” he told her with a smirk, before grinning at me.

I laughed, bending down to start unpacking before decided against it. “I need to unpack, but I don’t want you here.”

“Me?” Alex asked, putting an innocent look on his face.

“Yeah, you. Lola probably doesn’t care if you see all her underwear, but I definitely do.”

“Guess I’m not getting lucky today,” Alex grumbled. He swung his legs off the bed and stretched as he stood up. “I picked you up from the airport and everything.”

Lola rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, I have been on campus for twenty minutes and – ”

Alex grinned, pressing his lips against hers, silencing her. “Like that’s ever stopped you.”

“I appreciate a good lovefest as much as the next person, but could you kindly not practice your kissing in front of me?” I mumbled, trying to look as perturbed as possible (but failing, really, because I actually kind of enjoy Alex’s presence when he’s not charged with hormones).
After he’d disappeared into the hall, there was a delayed silence before I launched myself at Lo, enveloping her in a big hug. Man, I missed her.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, brushing my hand over her hair, smoothing it down in the back—possibly Alex’s doing.

“I’m okay,” she said, giving me a half-hearted shrug. I knew she wasn’t.

“I know I already called you like three times, but I’m really sorry about your grandma.”

“Thanks, Ale.”
“If you need anything, babe, I’m here. Do you want a coffee? I think I need one before unpacking. I’ll get you one,” I babbled.
I was already at the elevator when by the time I realized that it hadn’t even occurred to me to wait for an answer. I’d just jumped up and walk out. Oh, well. At least I knew her order.
As I stepped outside the building, my phone buzzed at me again, still hidden somewhere in a pocket in my bag.
“New text message from Jake:
Hey, are you back yet? Say hi to Lola for me! Also, lunch tomorrow in the Village, your choice?”
“Reply to Jake:
Pizza and then cupcakes at Trophy? You’re on!”
 
Monday September 24: The University is having a new student orientation today. If you aren’t new to the school, then free day!
[Top Left Outfit]
 
“I told you you’d be overdressed!” Jake told me with a smirk, catching my eye. He glanced down at my glittering boots and back out at the rest of the people walking around us.
“I’m not overdressed,” I told him with a grin, “I’m just the most fabulous person here!”
He let out a laugh, which, in turn, made me laugh.
Jake’s laugh is really distinct, because, first of all, and most obviously, it’s loud—or, rather, booming—and it’s deep, and when he laughs, he doesn’t chuckle, he doesn’t giggle—the only way I know to describe it is a belly laugh, which makes it sounds all kinds of strange and entirely unattractive. Trust me, though, his laugh is perfect.
A couple walking past us shot us a funny look as we both laughed.
“It wasn’t that funny!” I managed to get out between giggles of a minute of laughter.
“I know,” he replied, “but it was just the way you said it. ‘I’m just the most fabulous person here!’” His imitation of me, though high-pitched, was fairly off, sending both of us into a fit of laughter again.
When we finally managed to regain our sanity and find an empty bench, I gave him a side hug. “You know,” I said, handing him a Snickerdoodle cupcake, “I missed you. I mean, I know I came back up to visit over the summer and say hi, but I missed you. I just feel weird without you, you know?”
“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.” I couldn’t see his face but I knew he was smiling.
 
Tuesday September 25: Summer is officially over and today marks the first day of the Fall semester. Show us a look into your academic life.
[Bottom Left Outfit]
 
No story. She goes to class. She probably falls because she’s wearing heels. She eats lunch. She blinks a lot. The end.
 
Thursday September 27: The dean wanted to kick off the first week with something a little fun. All day there will free BBQ on campus. What kind of college students would be be if we didn’t take advantage of free food?
[Bottom Right Outfit]
 
Too lazy to write a story right now. Does anyone want to be included or tagged if/when I do put it up? Let me know.

Introduce yourselves (if haven't already done so on the other set)! Comment if you think they’d be enemies (does she even have any?) or friends or acquaintances or study buddies or movie buddies or if they would be terrified of Miss Glitter-and-Sparkles.
@the-wild-things had made a really fabulous set like this for a different rp and I loved it and flattery is the highest form of compliment-y-ness, right? Right. So I'm going to credit her. Gooooood.
 
name: Alexandra 'Ale' Beck
age: 21
birthday: March 6th
year: Junior
major: Education
hometown: Vancouver, Washington
style: Girly. She loves glitter, pink, ruffles, and LBDs.
biography: Alexandra went to school at an all girls catholic school so as soon as she graduated she left there for public college. She has rebelled a bit and is extremely flirty. She has a confidence that most girls envy.
model: Lindsey Wixson
 
Things to see--
Other intro set: http://www.polyvore.com/miss_you_just_seconds_after/set?id=59472991#stream_box
Original audition (some details have been changed): http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=26518683
Previous Ale sets and stories (albeit considerably fewer stories than sets): http://www.polyvore.com/alexandra_beck_sos/collection?id=735624
 
Style--
▶I think Ale 2.0 would have matured a little bit beyond what she wore when she was an itty bitty freshman. Mostly because I would like to expand beyond pink and glitter, because that’s not so much my taste anymore.
▶She’s a bit more quirky this time around, and she doesn’t mind making a statement. She hasn’t really cleaned out her closet in the past few years, so she’s still got plenty of glittery things to play with, but she’s just putting things together differently, you know? HOMEGIRL’S GOT SOME EDGE, OKAY.
▶She’s figured out how to do “casual,” but still loves a good pencil skirt and pair of high heels.
 
Personality--
▶"I don't have much against anyone actually. I tend to like most people. I've found that if you don't judge someone who isn't necessarily in your group of friends before you actually get to know them, most people are actually really nice, for the most part. "
▶She’s friendly, she’s flirty, she’s consistently random and making comments and bringing up weird facts that come out of nowhere, because how or why would anyone know that? She’s not a ditz, and she gets rather offended if someone implies that she’s stupid (okay, who doesn’t?). She just doesn’t think quite like most people.
▶If she gives you a compliment, take it as such. If she likes your shoes, she’ll probably shout it at you from across the campus. She’s not one to go about making and giving underhanded compliments—but she has sarcastic sense of humor, and that, coupled with her being a bit louder than most people are used to, has been known to put people off before.
▶This is random, but if she were an animal, she’d probably be a cat. Or a lapdog. But a really well-loved, well-groomed one.
 
Humans--
▶Roommate/occasional best friend: Lola Byrd, portrayed as Odette Annable, played by @alycat (more here: http://www.polyvore.com/wine_women_bedroom_hymns/set?id=58738477).
▶Hottie neighbor: Nate Adams, 22, portrayed by Chris Evans. Nate moved into Jake's apartment building just last month and Ale has spent the past few weeks staking out the newest addition to the building. He’s funny, he’s buff, and holy crap, he’s hot. He seems to be pretty single. Homegirl will be crushed if Lo has a sleepover with the new neighbor before she does.
▶The cutest banker in Seattle: Harrison Swift, 27, portrayed by JoGoLev. A frequent patron of the bar Ale finds herself at more often than she’d cared to admit to, usually having been abandoned by Lola. Sometimes seen in the company of beautiful women, always dressed in a sharp suit. Mmm, he is fine. Smooth talker, flirtatious, charming. Hits on Ale at least twice a week, has been turned down more than a handful of times. Maybe she’ll have to cave soon.
▶Best guy friend, aka Mr. Sassypants: Jake Keller, 21, portrayed by Dylan O’Brien. The two met last September after an awkward breakup. Alexandra was sitting in Starbucks, trying not to cry. Jake was sitting in Starbucks, trying not to study. He bought her ice cream and tried to be as uncreepy as possible. She assumes he’s gay, because she’s never seen him with other girls and he’s consistently sassier than Lola, but he has feelings for her that aren’t exactly mutual as of yet. Poor guy. Usually seen wearing a goofy smirk and a black backpack around campus.
 
Family--
I lied two years ago when I said that homegirl didn’t have any step-siblings, but her family never played a role in the original storyline I had planned out (and have subsequently forgotten, kind of).
▶Step-sister: Aurelie Beck, 23, portrayed by Taylor Swift (I’m working off of the assumption that no one is using her—if someone is, I can totally change it). Unpleasant, but slightly less so than her mother. Typical overachieving, pretty girl cheerleader type. Spent many days getting Ale in trouble for things she didn’t. Out of college, but living in Seattle. Works as a barista at the original Pike Place Starbucks, but is trying to make it as an actress. Can be seen in ‘Legally Blonde’ as a perky, bubbly ensemble member at the Seattle Musical Theater, now through October.
▶Step-mother: Annette Beck, probably sold her soul to remain 32 forever, portrayed by Leslie Bibb. Possibly the reincarnation of pure evil. “My step-mom, Annette, kind of hates me, but never outright, you know? She'll say all kind of harsh things or insults veiled in compliments even when my dad isn't around, thinking that I won't get the double meaning, because she think I'm stupid, because in her mind, random equals stupid. She's really analytical. I'm not.” Is a generally unpleasant person. Works at a law firm in Vancouver. "My step-mom calls me scatterbrained most of the time, but that's really her nice way of calling me a ditz, but I like to think that maybe I'm just not a linear thinker."
▶Biological mother: Annabelle Beck, portrayed by Megan Hilty. Died when Alexandra was six. Used to be a preschool teacher, which is why Ale is planning on going into education. Knows very little about her. “But my biological mother, from what I do remember of her, was really beautiful. My dad won't talk about her much with me anymore (because I'm getting ‘too old,’ and that ‘dwelling on the past won't help my future’). She was a teacher, which is why I want to go into education.”
▶Daddy dearest: James Beck, old as time, portrayed by Jack Davenport (oops, I like Smash, sorry). He’s just “Dad.” You don’t get any other description besides that.

Question: guess who's back. Actually that's not a question. Guess anyways.
Answer: HOMEGIRL. HOMEGIRL IS BACK. Ugh. She's fabulous.
 

name: Alexandra 'Ale' Beck
age: 21
birthday: March 6th
year: Junior
major: Education
hometown: Vancouver, Washington
style: Girly. She loves glitter, pink, ruffles, and LBDs.
biography: Alexandra went to school at an all girls catholic school so as soon as she graduated she left there for public college. She has rebelled a bit and is extremely flirty. She has a confidence that most girls envy.
model: Lindsey Wixson
 
Original Audition: http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=26518683
If you'd like to peruse previous stories (and see a bunch of really terrible dolls--like, you guys, I am SO sorry I subjected you all to those): http://www.polyvore.com/alexandra_beck_sos/collection?id=735624
 
Highlights from the original audition, if you're not feeling up to reading:
"I don't have much against anyone actually. I tend to like most people. I've found that if you don't judge someone who isn't necessarily in your group of friends before you actually get to know them, most people are actually really nice, for the most part. "
"My step-mom calls me scatterbrained most of the time, but that's really her nice way of calling me a ditz, but I like to think that maybe I'm just not a linear thinker."
"I'd like to be the kind of person that, when you see them walking by in the halls, people point and whisper and say, 'That's Alexandra Beck!' Kind of like Mean Girls, with Regina George. But in a good sense. And not a bottle blonde."
"I like glittery and sparkly things, if you can't tell. Oh. And most thing that are pink. And weddings! I love watching people get married. Was that random?"
"I don't have many pink shoes. I should fix that."
 

In the time that SOS has been on a muchly extended hiatus (uh, yeah, sure, we'll go with that?), darling Alexandra/Alex/Ale/call-her-whatever-you-want has since dated on and off several guys but there's obviously been no keepers because, you know, she'd be hitched by now if there had been. She's a real romance kind of person. Her kind and loving and oh-so helpful roommate, Lola, has set her up on more blind dates than she'd care to count (or remember).
 
To be introduced at a later date--aka when I figure out how they'll fit into this grand little storyline:
Male #1, played by Dylan Hoebrien. I mean, O'Brien.
Male#2, played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt.
 
Introduce yourselves! Except you, @alycat. Lola needs to pick up her shoes from in front of the front door.

name: Carolina Hemingway
age: 21
birthday: September 19
year: Junior
major: Creative Writing
hometown: London, England
style: Has a closet find with designer duds [I’m assuming this meant to say “filled with designer duds,” because, otherwise, I don’t understand]
biography: Does the last name sound familiar? It should. Carolina is the great grand daughter of Ernest Hemingway and cousin of model Dree Hemingway. She was born into a famous family and even did a little modeling of her own as a teen. Carolina ended up in Washington in order to escape the spotlight but sometimes it still follows her. She wants to find her own path.
model: you choose
taken by: open
 
Wait, so let me explain her style and what my general idea for it was, because I’ve actually thought a lot about this and this was fun and possibly the only decent part of my audition.
The bio specifies that, you know, she’s got designer clothes, but I don’t really think that constitutes a style, per se (maybe I’m the only one that thinks that?), so I wanted to give her something beyond what was expected of when you think of a wardrobe filled with nice designer things. In my mind, she’s not necessarily estranged from her parents and her family, but then not really on fantastic terms and she’s been trying to put some distance between herself and “the family name,” so her mother doesn’t really understand her. Her dad would have set up a monthly allowance for her to be able to buy groceries and pay the rent (although he severely overestimates the cost of these things and she ends with quite a bit left over every month), so she’s got herself a nice mix of high/low things in her closet. If I was British and had easy access to Topshop (wait, but now I do! Thank you, Nordstroms!), I would shop there all the time, so she loves herself some Topshop, too.
In terms of actual style, I didn’t want her to ever look too “done,” like there’s always something that keeps her from looking totally styled—either she’s got messy hair or smudgy makeup, flat shoes with a pencil skirt, sneakers and a pretty dress, slouchy jeans with something fancier, etc. The clothes are nd designer, but you would necessarily expect them to be just from looking at her. I’m also totally into sweaters and bundling up and being warm in the winter (I think Topshop is calling the trend “Scandi-girl”?) because it’s totally practical for Seattle and I think it suits someone like her who, in my mind, isn’t trying to be in the spotlight in everything she does.
 
▶Tell us about you.
 
Well, okay, my name is Carolina… Wait, do you really need a last name for this? Fine. Carolina Hemingway. Yeah, like THAT Hemingway. Would you believe me if I said that I actually didn’t like “A Farewell to Arms”? Yeah, it’s okay; my mom doesn’t believe me either.
I’m from London—I was born there and, okay, actually, I lived there for, oh, nineteen years of my life, hence the accent, and I’d gone to college there and at some point I think I just made a conscious decision to not be, er, a Hemingway, because I don’t really enjoy all that attention the name attracts, you know? I think I’d rather be known for being a writer myself than be known for having a dead great-grandfather who used to write. I don’t know. It just doesn’t make any sense, you know? Just being great-grandfather Hemingway had a way with words doesn’t mean that I am, or should be, in any way remarkable or talented, so why are people so interested in my family? I’ve never understood it. Everyone else gets it better than I do. I mean, yeah, my major is Creative Writing, but I think that maybe I just want to avoid being compared with great-grandaddy Ernest.
So, erm, yeah. Somehow I ended up in Washington. To get away from it all—in the most un-Twilight way possible. Is that even Twilight-y? I don’t know. I never read the books. Vampire lit never did it for me. Anyways, when I was nineteen, I decided to transfer from college in England to the University of Washington, because something in my mind was like, “Hey, you know where no one would know your family name? Seattle,” which is obviously not true, because I think the only place I could go where no one has heard the Hemingway name is probably somewhere In Africa and, you see, I can’t go to Africa because I burn like a peach. And my hair also has a tendency to be dry. Kind of.
Have I even told you anything about myself? Twenty-one, lived in London until I essentially ran away from Europe and, of all things, my last name, and I like to write. I used to be much wilder a couple years ago—it was my way of, more or less, giving the middle finger to my parents—well, my mother—for raising me the way they did.
 
▶How do you see yourself and how do others see you?
 
You see, it depends on who you ask.
“Are you her friend? Would you please tell her to get over herself and come home? There’s a charity ball at the end of the month, and everyone in the family ought to be there. She’s very selfish—so immature, this ‘hiding out in Seattle’ nonsense.” –my mother
My favorite professor: “She’s very driven, very talented—very private in person. I’m sure that if you were privileged enough to read her writing, you would understand why she is the way she is. [pause] You want to read some? I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”
“Sure, she’s private, but give her a little alcohol and she opens up like a book—you can barely get her to shut up! Honey, I know all about the Hemingway family drama.” –my roommate, [insert name here because I feel like choosing a roommate now would be presumptuous, but it would definitely be Lo]
As for me, I don’t really think of myself as shy. I mean, I’m quiet, but there’s a different between the two, you know? I don’t think I’m that awkward around people I don’t know, and I’ll talk to them, but I don’t talk if I don’t feel like I have something to say. Some people might say that it’s antisocial, but I don’t really see it that way, because I’m just not much of a chatterer. And, yeah, I’m private, but that’s more something born out of growing up in the spotlight than from a conscious desire to not tell people anything and let them in, etc. People tell me that I’m really funny when I do speak up—my inner commentary on whatever is happening is probably way funnier than what I actually choose to say. At least, I like to think so.
 
▶What is your history? Tell us about life growing up.
 
Would you really like to hear about this? Because I’m sure you could just read about it somewhere on the internet. Really. You could. Would you like to? [pause] No? Fine.
Growing in the way I did was a bit weird, because, you know, we’ve got this family name, obviously, and this grandfather that’s, for all intents and purposes, famous, and he was dead before I was ever born, so it was weird to grow up hearing about it and to be stuck with this—this legacy of, “Oh, he was such a fantastic writer,” but we’d never met him, never been able to pick his brain and talk to him about his novels, so maybe that’s why I’m not a huge fan of his works. Or maybe I’m just ornery.
I’ve never really gotten on with my mother that well—to be honest, and she’d resent me for saying so, but I’ve always thought of her as cold and distant, and she was fairly absent from my childhood for the first fifteen years of my life. I mean, she was there, but she wasn’t, you know, mothering. She was like that woman that just lived in the house, who was married to my father, but I can count on one hand the number of times that she was in the least being motherly. It wasn’t until I get older that she really tried to invest herself in my life, but I suppose by then, the damage was done. At that point, she wasn’t so much my mother as she was, like, an overbearing aunt. Or an unpleasant sister. There’s not really much I can say for her—a lot of people apologize for my not having a great relationship with my mother, but I realized a long time ago that we’d never be anything more than, well, enemies, for lack of a better word.
I used to fantasize, actually, when I was little that my father had gone to Paris and adopted me and that my real mother was out there. Obviously, that’s not the case, but that was the basis of my first short story (I was twelve when I wrote it for class), and I think that was probably when I realized that I wanted to write.
My father has always been much nicer to me—he’d take me to the park and we’d walk and talk about school, or he’d take me to get ice cream, and we’d have nice father-daughter time. He was so much more present in my life than my mother was. At this point, I think he’s sad that I’ve cut off most contact with them—I’m not sure he understands entirely why I’m not there—but he still cares and wants to take care of me. Every month, he actually deposits money into my bank account—for food and rent and tuition, you know—totally behind my mother’s back, but I think he overestimates the cost of living or something. I usually have a couple hundred dollars more than I need every month. I don’t know if that’s his way of saying, “Hey, I miss you, buy yourself something nice because I’m not there to buy it for you,” or if he’s honestly just not paying attention to the dollar amount.
 
▶What are your likes, dislikes, favorite bands, hobbies, etc?
 
I like breathing. That’s pretty cool, I guess. Actually, you know what I really like? Boys in suits. Why don’t they all wear suits 150% of the time? Ugh. That was random. Erm, I like books. I like to read. I’m not a total recluse… I think. I’m not much for partying, and if I’m going to drink and get drunk, I’m going to do it at home so I can turn on the TV and laugh at reality television or something. I was a total party girl back in London. I like to think I’m much more studious now. [pause] Am I still not answering the question? I like writing (have we been over this yet?), tea and coffee at late hours, a cappella music, pretending that no one can hear me when I’m singing to myself, and superhero movies. I don’t like Matthew McConaughey movies (okay, except “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” it’s a classic and for that I will make an exception), my mother’s surprise “Come back to London!” phone calls, overpriced and overly sweet coffee drinks, and yellow nail polish. I feel like I’m composing the world’s weirdest dating profile right now. Hobbies are as follows: composing spontaneous song parodies whilst watching aforementioned superhero movies; making soup for people because I like to make soup and I like my friends, so why not make soup for my friends; reading and drinking tea; and sketching my friend’s faces very poorly. I promise I’m taking this seriously, I just have to make myself sound interesting so I don’t come across as a total loser.
 
▶Finally, If there was a quote to describe you, what would it be?
 
“No day but today,” which less describes me and more describes how I’d like to be. I’m working on it.
 
Answer these questions out of character-
▶Why do you want to be a part of this roleplay?
 
Because I’m a Washingtonian and I’ll even be in the UW area and I’ll be able to go to University Village and be like, “HEY, I WROTE ABOUT THIS PLACE IN MY STORY, THIS IS WHERE SHE WOULD HAVE WALKED,” and everyone would think I was weird, but I’d hope you guys would understand. Who is the “you guys” I’m even writing at? I don’t even know anymore. AND ALSO BECAUSE I WAS AN ORIGINAL MEMBER OF SOS AND IT WOULD MAKE ME SAD TO NOT BE IN THE REDUX. CAPS LOCK CAPS LOCK CAPSLOCK. I’m sorry, I got weirder in the year that I was gone.
 
▶What other roleplays are you in and do you think you will be able to make at least one set a week (preferably more)?
 
Well, you see, I’m just so busy with all of my roleplays and such that I’m not entirely sure I’ll be able to making any sets for SOS at all. I kid, I kid. Being that I’ve had such stellar participation in the Polyvore world for the past year (erm, oops?), I’m presently not in any roleplays (is it that obvious?), but making at least a set a week would be a lovely little minimal commitment. Not that I would only make a set a week. But I’m just saying. I’m starting school next Monday and I’ll have a lot of free time before and after class, so clearly Polyvore is what I ought to be filling my time with.
 
▶List your top three character and model choices.
 
Carolina Hemingway—Cara, but I was totally torn between Cara and Josephine Skriver. I went for Cara because I thought she fit the style I wanted to give her better.
Okay, she wasn’t listed in the open characters, but I played her in the original SOS and I’ve kind of missed her, but Alexandra “Ale” Beck would be my second choice, if that’s even a possibility, because I feel like I never really had the chance to get into her character, writing-wise, but that was more my fault than anyone else’s. I’d probably like to use Lindsey, if she’s not being used, or Emily DiDonato (who’d been my original model choice)—but I’m still torn on the whole subject and I don’t know if I’d still want to use Lindsey. #frustrated #ishashtaggingonpolyvoreokay?
If Ale isn’t an option, my second and third choices would be Sawyer (probably also Cara, because she fits the feminine tomboy thing in my head) and Mila (Anya K—I can’t decide if it’s pretentious to refer to her by her last initial, but I totally can’t remember how to spell her last name right now and my brother wants to watch Scooby-Doo, so I need to finish this already), respectively.
 
▶Do you have some sort of storyline planned for your character? This question is really here so you can think about it. I really don't want people to tryout if they are going to stop writing by next week.
 
YES TOTALLY. I’d want to reserve Joseph Gordon-Levitt (hey, what can I say? I love a guy in a suit!) or Ryan Gosling. Or both. Have ALL the attractive gentlemen.
 
Final note: every time I think about the RP acronym being SOS, I get that JoBros song stuck in my head for an hour. The end.
 
[Edit: just kidding, not the end. Here's my story.]
 
“Wait,” my roommate said suddenly, drawing my attention away from my laptop, “if you’re from London, can you introduce me to the One Direction guys?”
 
I laughed. It was totally like her to ask random questions like that, just out of the blue. “Ahh, I see what makes you a good journalist now. You ask all the hard-hitting questions,” I shot back, without turning around. “What makes you think I know One Direction?”
 
“Well, hmm, let’s see,” she replied. I could imagine what she looked like right now—hair tied up in a messy bun, eyes narrowed, but a clever grin painted across her face. She’d be ticking reasons off on her fingers—she’d look more and more catlike as she progressed, thinking that she’d caught and trapped me. “For starters, you’re British, so I feel like that automatically puts you at better odds for knowing them. And your family is basically famous—”
 
“Hey!” I hissed at her, spinning around in my chair.
 
She laughed, her smile widening. “Caroline, there’s no one here but us, and it’s not like anyone can hear through the walls,” she told me with a small wink. “But, I digress. Your family is basically famous—they’ve probably been to events where the boys have been, /you’ve/ probably been to events where the boys have been present. It’s taken all of my self-control not to steal your phone and scroll through your contacts looking for ‘Harry Styles’ or ‘the Stylinator.’”
 
“Excuse you, but if I had Harry’s number in my phone, it would be under ‘Uncle Harold.’ No last name, just to throw you off.”
 
“That’s really rather strange and disturbing.”
 
“Yeah. Then it would have worked. Because you’d be thinking to yourself, ‘Hey, what if she does actually have an Uncle Harold? Maybe texting obscene things to this number would be a poor idea on my part. I’m not going to do that.’ And then my work would be done.”
 
“You’re sick.”
 
“I like to think that it helps pay my rent.”
 
“But, really, do you have his number?”
 
“If I had it, I wouldn’t give it to you.”
 
“How about this: if you don’t give me Harry Styles’ phone number, I’ll kick you out.”
 
“Hey, genius. It’s my name on the lease agreement.”
 
"...dang it."
 
[I don't know why it's repeating the last question at the bottom of the text, but it doesn't show up when I'm in the editor, so, er...]
 
“…dang it.”
 

 
▶Do you have some sort of storyline planned for your character? This question is really here so you can think about it. I really don't want people to tryout if they are going to stop writing by next week.
 
YES TOTALLY. I’d want to reserve Joseph Gordon-Levitt (hey, what can I say? I love a guy in a suit!) or Ryan Gosling. Or both. Have ALL the attractive gentlemen.

I was actually feeling ten times more ambitious when I opened the Word doc to write a story for this set than I presently am--also, it doesn't help that this set has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and I feel guilty for letting it languish.
 
So, er, this is the entirety of the Myrna/Riley that I've attempted writing. Oops.
 
++++
 
“I hope you’re not planning on dyeing your hair again.”
 
I glanced up from the newspaper, my mug of coffee hovering halfway between the table and my lips. “What was that?” I managed to mumble, being ever the morning person.
 
“Are you planning on dyeing your hair back to blonde?” Riley repeated, looking at my hair curiously.
 
I frowned. “Why?” I asked.
 
He shrugged. “I just like it this way. Dark, I mean. Not that I don’t like the blonde—I mean, you were blonde when I met you and obviously I liked you then, but I also like the brown hair and I think you’re beautiful whatever color your—”
 
“Shut up,” I laughed, before pulling his face towards mine and silencing him with a kiss.
 
++++
 
help i have no inspiration

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