Post by estella on Dec 7, 2011 15:31:31 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #131313;,true][cs=2] ESTELLA PENELOPE DELOS  | |
| [atrb=width,200] nickname stella, stell birthday 15/06/1990 place of birth athens, greece gender female | [atrb=width,200] sexuality heterosexual nationality greek/spanish membergroup tourist play by adrianna lima |
| [cs=2] likes: learning about culture, fine clothing, the smell of an aged library, going to museums, having fun, exploring the world, equestrian eventing dislikes: boorish men, arachnids, those her underestimate her, being told what to do, sitting on the sidelines, ignorance, boredom personality: strong-willed, witty, sarcastic, innovative, artistic, spontaneous, mysterious family: castor delos (52) grecian businessmen and investor gabriela galvez (45) spanish socialite and elite history: estella penelope delos. even the name has a quality about it that could easily grasp the attention of a gossip-deprived crowd. perhaps it's the mysterious quality that draws people into her. or maybe it is the mere fact of her prosperity and views on world culture. she was never with anything short of her greatest desires, and had a priveleged life that could rival anyone's. she grew up in her father's greek mansion, which overlooked the overwhelmingly aqua mediterranean and reflected her own opulent, alarmingly powerful eyes. when not in her gloriously decorated piece of the past, she was in spain with her mother, long divorced from castor, and her blue-blooded family. the fact that she came indirectly from royalty only seemed to add to her persona of being someone worthwhile conversing with, let alone glimpsing, which easily allowed the girl access into the world of the elite. during summers, she would lounge around at country clubs and flirt with the male attendees, never seeming to have to lift a finger. this bothered her more than all else, although it confused her to an extent that she hastily brushed off the idea of soothing this empty void. she attended only the best of private schools, and achieved a scholarship to a university thereafter. it was then she discovered her love for people and culture and adventure, and trapping herself in a classroom of quaint, generic socialites simply would not do. after much pleading and promising, she was allowed access into a newly found world. she went on serveral excavations, spent time studying in world-famous museums, and attended disclosed fashion shows that displayed private collections. after thoroughly traversing throughout europe, she happened upon the states. and so her next adventure began. ella - fourteen - four years The salty brilliance of a velvety black mediterranean night's wind wafted through the open window of the Delos mansion. The silk curtains billowed against the frame, dancing along silently with its partner of sweetly discreet warmth. Estella shifted in the linens of her bed. Content dreams did not fragrant her subconscious tonight. Rather, she was plagued with a desire that had consistently caused her to toss and turn several nights prior. She blinked open her eyes, sleep never having come to grant her moment's peace, and looked thoughtfully around her moonlight-stricken room. Everything seemed to glitter under a silvery veil provided by the mistress sentinel of darkness. She hastily threw off her bed covers and maneuvered her sleek body so that she was now sitting up, feet dangling over the wooden floors. A slight gasp of surprise filtered out of her plush lips as she touched the cool floor with her bare feet. As silently as she was allowed, she creptpast the gently beckoning curtains and onto thebalcony, resting against its rail. She involuntarily shuddered with the sweet kiss of a slight chilliness and wrapped herself around her gooseflesh-covered arms. She took in controlled breaths while mulling through her hazy thoughts. Was he thinking of her? Did he have a hard time falling asleep as she had? She scoffed in an almost imperceptible manner in memory of one of their last conversations. He had compared to their relationship to Romeo and Juliet, save for the fact thatshe was dying mentally rather than physically. Two forbidden lovers staring at the same moon with only sighs of defeat forming swirling clouds in the air. No matter how much she wished, their affair was nothing more than that. An affair. Fun while it lasted, but not meant to be. Her laughed filled the vacant air, yet it lacked any mirth that usually followed. It was ignorant to think she was able to keep such a relationship. They were rivals, now lovers, in a masochistic form of being in love. Hate was mixed with admiration and had blended together in a form of strange, exciting passion. All fun was now gone at being discovered. Two days from now, she'd be shipped off to a foreign country, and he'd be doing likewise, except in the opposite direction. If they ever saw one another, it would be rare fate. But Stella didn't believe in coincidence or chance. She laughed again, a cold sound that bubbled up from her chest and prevented her throbbing heart from feeling the anguish that threatened to spill down her cheeks. As if in mockery, she swore she heard a returning chuckle of perpetual sorrow echo back to hers. The land was silent. FLEMING @ CAUTION 2.0 |
