Post by caprice marino on Mar 29, 2012 12:15:58 GMT -5
caprice irmine marino
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: none;,true][cs=2][atrb=width,300] hey there. the name's caprice irmine marino! i go by cat or ria too if you were wondering. also i'll have you know that i am twenty six & loving it. oh. you've heard that I'm straight? & that I'm from schiltach, germany? well the rumors are true for once. well I gotta get going, unemployment is calling. see ya'! history Caprice, ha, she’s a scary woman, well to me anyway. It’s interesting actually, her mother you see is or well was a German intelligence officer, who at the time was working undercover in the Italian mafia… well little Belinda got knocked up by oh yes.. the Don’s son. I always laugh a little at it, cause Ria just about hates the Italians, well not her father but that will come up later. Anyway, Caprice was born in Venice, however shortly after being born, Ria’s mother returned to her small home town, Schiltach. The woman however, abandoned almost all motherly duties, leaving the few month old Caprice with her grandparents. Now Schiltach isn’t really a big city, but then again its in the middle of the Black Forest and growing up, her grandfather would always read her the Brother’s Grimm stories, at first the stories terrified the young girl, then she became enthralled in the danger and wonder of the stories. Though her innocent years were cut short, her mother returned when she was but seven, and since then Caprice’s life was more like boot camp then actually growing up. She’d be up before dawn, obeying her mother’s every order, doing drills until the girl couldn’t stand, weight-lifting until it felt like her arms would fall off, studying and reading until her eyes hurt from being open and shooting until she didn’t blink, flinch or care if she was shooting into a body or not. I honestly think the woman beat her until the girl simply didn’t feel anymore, but hey I am not Caprice or her mother so how would I know? Moving on, this kept going until young “Cat” as she picked up seeing as well it just sort of fit her, I’m not talking about a housecat either, more of like a jaguar sort of feline, she was quiet, reserved, I don’t even know if she spoke for an entire year except to practice different accents and learn new languages. The girl is a master of tongues let me tell you, by this age, she could speak German, Italian, English, Spanish and was working on Russian, all with near perfect accents. Now you see how this girl can be considered scary, I mean she was like this little mini-super spy her mother was raising. Well it sorta got cut short, when her mother was killed on her fourteenth birthday. After that she was sent to live with her dearest dad who was in new york at the time. She protested it at first, not even bothering to talk to him outside of what she had to. It was probably the only time she showed a hint of an emotion, as if her staying silent was almost a grieving time over losing her mom. But it just so happened that when she was sixteen one of the guys she went to school with went to grab her and well, let me tell you, that guy was in the hospital for three days after what she did to him. Her dad, saw potential in the girl, and started getting her in organized fights, but it didn’t last long because she got too far in one fight, grabbing a gun out of her father’s jacket in the middle of a fight, and I swear you not as she emptied the chamber into the guy she didn’t blink or flinch or even pause to double think what she was doing. I honestly think that’s when she really just lost her emotions entirely, but she stayed low for two years until she turned eighteen, then she was just sort of gone. Didn’t leave a note to her father as to where she was going or what she was doing, she just up and left. Her old man is pretty sure she died her hair and maybe changed her name, but he is certain she’s got a couple of his guns and weapons. Well I found out, she went to Sapphire Bay, yeah, kind of a small spot but I think she’s just been playing off the money her mother left her and doing a kill here or there to help herself get by. God knows if she is trying to find her humanity again or if she’s just fishing around for a better gig than working for the Italians. personality Ha? So you want to know why I ditched the dad and family and moved down here, well it’s warmer, I always hated the fucking cold, and that snowstorm god I would have rather been in New York with those disgusting men. Two, I heard that there is work down here. I refused to work for my father, my mother maybe, I mean she made me what I am, and sure I was a bit of a daddy’s girl but those men are just ugh, I swear my own uncle was hitting on me, ugh. It’s not really too bad down here, I pick up a few hits for some Russians up in Los Angeles from time to time, but really its never too busy and that’s the way I like it, less chances of someone coming after me. I guess you can call me cautious, well no maybe protective of myself? I always have a weapon on me, and I sleep with a knife under my pillow. My favorite game is probably a tie between Russian Roulette and Find My Weapons, oh it is so entertaining trying to have a guy find all the weapons on your person. I am not a whore by any means, my standards are too high, a tease, now that would be more accurate. I like to see them practically begging me for more, its fun to make ‘the dominant sex’ beg, it just shows, women are so far more advanced then men, even our ways of still displaying primitive behavior has evolved farther then men. Men still like physical displays, women, especially me, love psychological warfare. It’s fun. Okay maybe I am a bit of a sick cynic, its how I get by in this life. Feelings? Now why would I need emotions and feelings, they just get you wrapped up in things like love and pain and everything stupid like that. I don’t want that, sure maybe when I was a kid, but I mean really… it just not even worth it. Besides, I’m not good with actually having relationships with people outside of screwing a guy here and there or business relations. Other then that it’s just sort of meaningless to me, oh I know I’ll come around someday, that one guy will come by and sweep me off my feet, blah blah blah. If fantasies were real, the bad guys would always get beaten in the end and well, the world gets worse and worse by the day so I guess there the proof stories don’t come true. | [atrb=width,200] |
role play sample
Yvonne strahovski | criminal | war
made with love by you could do better @ Caution
