Post by MAXINE DANFIELD on Jan 20, 2012 18:43:23 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #131313;,true][cs=2] MAXINE ROSA DANFIELD  | |
| [atrb=width,200] nickname max birthday 02/15/1987 place of birth rio de jeneiro, brazil gender female | [atrb=width,200] sexuality heterosexual nationality brazilian membergroup transplant play by adriana lima |
| [cs=2] likes: dancing, boxing, baby animals, designing clothes, coffee, confusing people by speaking rapid portuguese dislikes: guns, gossip, the cold, being hung-over, cops, sappy romance movies, baggy clothing, not being able to trust her friends personality: energetic, fun, friendly, goofy, plays a mysterious angle, seductive, anger issues, secretly a bookworm, trust issues family: roger danfield, father, 47, unknown. carmen delarosa, mother, deceased. blake danfield, full-brother, 25, unknown. bailey danfield, half-sister, 19, unknown. history: I’m honestly not the special.. I was born in brazil with a mom, dad and brother. When I was about five or so my father left us without a word, I just woke up one morning and went to the table to eat, and he was gone. It kind of hurt, but my big brother was always there for me, he’s just a year older than me but he really did raise me. Anyway, after my dad left, my mother had to get another job and so I never really saw her, so it was always just me and my brother. He taught me to box when I was about ten and I loved it, I truly just love it, I know it’s not fitting of a girl to fight but I love it. The rest of my childhood and teenage years were just pretty much that boring, but when I was about seventeen though, I started just sketching and designing my own clothes, and then I taught myself to sew and I actually started making my own clothes, I mean it hasn’t gone anywhere but I was able to sell some of it and make enough money to move to America when I was twenty one, you see I heard my father lived well here… and I don’t know what I was expecting but came here anyway, trying to just see my father again. I wound up tracking him down, and well he signed a check for a hundred thousand dollars for me to never contact him again. It hurt, being rejected by my dad twice. But hey, I learned I have a half-sister, who was pretty awesome but we don’t really talk much seeing as our dad really doesn’t like it. So these days I’m just working down over at The Revolver.. not really what I’d like to be doing but my money is running out and I had to find another source of income besides selling custom bra’s and t-shirts. war – 165 – 5/6 years okay so this is like ancient but its one of my favorites.. it was from a time-travel au rp I was on a few years back The moonlight shone through the tree branches as they arched over the bridge. The gurgling of the water and the fresh smell of fish filled her nose, and as memories of home came flooding back her head tilted backwards. Her hands were practically frozen to the metal of the bridge, but as she leaned backwards her weight and gravity worked in tandem and she fell back. The back of her ribcage and her spine met the other side of the small bridge with a thud but luckily her sweatshirt had indeed absorbed its share of the impact, she let her feet slip through the iron bars and she let her head just rest on the cold metal. Catlike eyes met the moon but she was no longer there, her mind had drug her back to standing on the dock, the Atlantic Ocean before her and his arms wrapped around her waist, she tilted her head as it hit the iron bars she felt her dark hair brush against his soft dirty blond. Her eyes closed and she could almost hear his voice just whispering nothings to her, the feel of a smile tugging at her the corner of her mouth made her open her eyes and pull herself all into the bridge. He was gone, long gone and gone for good, no matter how much she wanted him back there would be no more seeing his sea foam green eyes, his dirty blond hair, no more feeling his abs under her hands, or his lips on her neck. At least not for now, he would be back in time. He always came back, and she always fell right back into his loving arms. Oh how Austin hated this- this curse. Her hands reached up and she grabbed the railing than heaved herself up, and watched as the river flowed under her. Almost teasing the ice by lapping up and over it before scurrying away. She sighed than adjusted her scarf, and her gloves, before smoothing out her hair which was mostly pulled back in a tight bun. After what had happened this time she had decided to go somewhere less populated, sure London and New York her odds of running into him there had been great and yes she had been proven right but Story had less than a thousand residents, less than five hundred. Her odds of running into him here might just be astronomical, and if she could make it without running into him than she would be free and he would actually be able to live, love and die at a better age than he had been. Truth be told the light at the end of the tunnel grew brighter each time, this last time he had made it to twenty years, before things got a little… heated. Austin sighed and turned east towards the park, it wasn't big but there was five real parts of it. The open space by the bridge she was on, and beyond that the playground that she had played on when she was a little girl, it was hard to remember that time but she'd never forget her wood and tire castle. Then there was the ice cream shack where she had worked every summer since she was thirteen until her accident and she met him for the first time, she had been young and naïve than. Now she regretted it every day. As her feet drug a little in the snow, her hands found their way into the pocket of her sweatshirt. She kept to the side of the road, as she saw what it could be like with the drunks that liked to speed through here at night. FLEMING @ CAUTION 2.0 |
