Post by Elliott Lynette Triage on Mar 30, 2010 11:02:42 GMT -8
Finished: yes
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[/center][/size]ELLIOTT LYNETTE TRIAGE
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- - - BASIC PROFILE
FULL NAME: Elliott Lynette Triage[/size][/blockquote]
NICK NAME: Elli , Lio , E.T.
GENDER: Female
AGE: Twenty four
BIRTHDATE: November 24, 1985.
SEXUALITY: Heterosexual.
OCCUPATION: Dance Studio Owner.
HIGH SCHOOL: Graduated June 12, 2003.
COLLEGE: Graduated June 24, 2006.
WEALTH: Middle to Upper Class.
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[/size]- - - APPEARANCE
PLAY BY: Sophia Bush[/size][/blockquote]
HEIGHT: Five feet, four inches.
WEIGHT: One hundred twenty pounds.
EYE COLOR: Lavender shaded gray.
HAIR COLOR: Brunette.
DETAILED APPEARANCE: Elliott has a range of features one could talk about for hours from physical appearance to scars, tattoos and piercings.
Her hair is a dark shade of brown, espresso like and silky like mousse. It is often thrown up into a ponytail or messy bun as her dancing career consumes her life and often makes it difficult for her to keep it well maintained, but when she hits the Santa Monica scene for a night of fun with her friends, her long locks fall smoothly over her shoulders, frizz free and shiny.
Elliott's eyes are said to be her best feature. They glimmer in colors of gray and a light indigo color. While it's unknown how she came across this dazzling feature so naturally, you won't hear one complaint from her. She loves her eyes, however, it's become more difficult to convince people that her eyes are real, and not contacts. Either way, it's one unique trait about herself that she would never give up or change.
Both extremely active, and more than her share of physically fit, Elliott's body stands at the height of five feet, four inches. She is slim, but not unhealthy, in fact, quite the opposite, she's a health food nut. She loves her exercise, and she loves staying away from all things unhealthy, except alcohol and coffee of course. Rarely do her friends and family see her pick up a doughnut or potato chip, but there are plenty of pictures of her slightly detailed abdomen, as well as her strong legs from years of dance, and playing soccer in high school. Her complexion is naturally pale, but some how, she's managed to pull off the perfect glow, and her make up is always done so beautifully over her already flawless features.
Elliott's smile is killer. Her teeth, while not as white as a piece of paper, is almost the perfect shade of pearly whites, and straight to boot. It's no wonder she can light up a room with those cute little dimples.
As perfect as Elliott seems, she's not all rainbows and butterflies, in fact, her feet are her worst feature, which often keeps the dancing queen compelled to wear closed toe shoes around her tiny feet, shaped as if they were meant for Barbie. Her feet and toes are often bruised and cut up from hours and days of non stop dancing, and so her shoe fashion often consists of sneakers, boots or flats.
Other than stated, Elliott is not huge on fashion, in fact she likes to relax in comfortable clothes such as a pair of jeans and a pretty top. If she's lounging around her home, she can often be spotted wearing a pair of sweatpants, but most of the time you can see twinkle toes in a pair of leggings and one of her ex-boyfriend's overly large t-shirts, or a pair of shorts and a tank top, anything loose and easy to move around in as her job often calls for it.
Elliott has numerous markings on her body, most of them her choice, with the exception of the scar above her right eyebrow, a fate left by her mother when she was younger, playing victim to her mother's and uncle's devious kidnap plan in which she suffered many attacks of abuse, including a rape.
Elliott did, however, have control over her piercings, two on each earlobe, as well as one on her right cartilage. And let's not forget the drunken tongue piercing she had done when she was sixteen.
Elliott also has a small, but extremely detailed tattoo of a orchid lily cross bred flower with the names of both her father and brother, a tattoo she got done as a fourteenth birthday present.
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[/size]- - - PERSONALITY
Elliott likes salad, long walks on the beach and is a virgo. Joking. In all seriousness, Lio has a wide range of interests stemming from her obsession and addiction to coffee to her love and passion for the rain, but let's take it one step at a time, shall we?
Coffee, besides dancing, is number one in Lio's book. She loves everything about the warm brown liquid from aroma to taste to the warm sensation it gives you right before slapping you back to consciousness. Sometimes, Lio can't go half an hour through the day without grabbing another cup of coffee, and whether it's a fancy latte or just a regular old cup of joe, you can bet it's one accessory Lio will never leave home without. It's the first thing she wakes up to in the morning, and the last thing she tastes at night.
Dancing has been a part of Elliott's life since she was two years old, becoming well educated in her aunt's studio at a young age. She picked up a love for the activity, and art, early on in her life, and it became her escape in between the brutal attacks her mother put her through. It was her freedom from pain and from terror. At home, she felt as if she had to hide all the time, as if she had to protect herself from her mother's crazy antics, but when she was in that dance studio, she felt free with no boundaries. She'd learned how to escape at an early age, and it scarred her with trust issues up until this very day.
While the happy go lucky girl may seem as if she's standing high on a pedestal, she's standing far below it looking up. Lio has always been the kick ass kind of girl who hung with the guys, and it doesn't come as a surprise to any one that truly gets to know her that underneath all of the feminine facade lays a tom boy itching to escape, locked away since her high school graduation. Lio had always been the kind of girl to go camping or hiking with the guys, hang around and work on cars or sit around and play video games. She was never afraid to pick up a beer or take a few shots instead of drinking some fruity little cocktail, and she certainly wasn't afraid to rough house with the guys at any given time, whether it be a friendly game of football between friends, street racing, an illegal night at a pool hall or bar or even a guys night of poker or video games. Elliott was the girl all the girls wanted to love and hate at the same time, and she always liked it better that way.
In comparison, Lio never denied her girlish fate. In fact, she liked all of the same things your average teen girl was obsessed with as well. She always loved shopping and dressing up when the time called for it, going to a party and flirting with boys, riding on the back of some guy's motorcycle, baking in the kitchen..
Okay, maybe that last one is a little too '50s, but, regardless, Lio's always been a well rounded and diverse individual. Some of her other interests include candles or incense , showers , parties of any sort , romantic gestures , lilies , orchids , cheesy horror movies , spanish soap operas , traveling , interior design , boys clothing , photography , reading , writing , museums , movie nights , the game of pool , peanut butter , playing roller hockey by her own rules , candy canes , make up , kareoke (when she's drunk) , and poetry.
Oh, and for the record, she's a Scorpio.
While she may have more than her share of interests in the world, there are more than enough things in the cruel world she despises, such as spiders and other little creepy crawlies of the night, or day.
If it's always been one thing Lio truly finds herself hating on a daily basis, it's the fear that she could run into any little creepy crawly throughout her day. If it weren't enough that they're small enough to hide anywhere and sneak up on you when you least expect it, she doesn't find it normal that any such creature should have more than four legs. While she's usually cool, calm and collective around the little critters, to an extent, she can't seem to sit still if she's in the same room as a bee or spider. The things have scared her ever since she was a little girl. Of course, I'm sure being stung didn't help, and the fact that her father shared with her about the average human swallowing eight spiders a year has left the girl scarred. It's no wonder she covers her mouth with a blanket every night in the sack.
Insects aren't the only things that get under this dancer's skin though. In fact, there are several other dislikes that pinch a nerve when they surface in her life such as clowns , any type of prejudice or racism , hate crimes , stereotyping , abortions , conformity , drugs , the reliability of technology the world has hit , wasted talent, creativity or imagination , licorice , and bullying.
There is a world of likes and dislikes we could continue exploring about Elliott, but I'm sure you're itching to get your hands on information other than what she likes and dislikes.
Having been abused when she was younger, Elliott has shut down quite a bit, and while years of therapy have helped the wounds heal, the scars still remain. She's formed quite a bit of trust related issues over the year, and fears being alone in any given place with anyone. There are a few people she's let into her heart, mind and soul completely, but other than the selected few, Elliott feels the need to surround herself with people at all times.
Another fear that lurks deep within her core is ferris wheels. A silly as it may sound, she's terrified of the innocent carnival ride and has been ever since she was a small girl. Upon riding one with an older cousin of hers, he decided to be a jerk and rock it back and forth, telling her she would fall out and crash to her doom below. She hasn't been on any kind of ferris wheel since.
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[/size]- - - HISTORY AND BACKGROUND INFORMATION
Please keep in mind that you the creator will know everything
about your character even if the character does not
about your character even if the character does not
BIRTHPLACE: Paris, France
MOTHER: Lillianna Collette Washington - Forty Two - Current Resident in a Mental Hospital/Criminal.
FATHER: Kiefer Michael Triage - Forty Eight - Successful Diagnostician/Surgeon.
SPOUSE: Not Currently Married.
SIBLINGS: Jackson Niel Triage - Twenty Six - Sex Crimes Detective.
EXTENDED FAMILY: None worth mentioning.
HISTORY: It was November eighteenth, in the year nineteen eighty five, when this young dancer's story began. She'd been quite a hassle to deal with even before that, showing signs of being a dancer even before the light of day hit her most unique newborn eyes. She'd been a kicker, constantly moving her feet, but on the day of her birth, like many babies had before her, Elliott Lynette brought joy to her parents, creating another miracle in their lives, and creating the opportunity for Jackson Niel to be a big brother.
Elliott became the ideal daughter, daddy's little girl and mommy's little helper, and growing up, her brother became her best friend. She felt blessed, and was too young to understand just how lucky she was. From the outside looking in, The Triage family's closest friends and neighbors would only assume they were the perfect family. They were always laughing, and having a good time. They were always together. At the age of two, Elliott was enrolled in dance classes, and the family could be seen leaving the house together to go to her recitals. She was an adorable little thing, a frizzy haired two year old in a dance costume and make up twirling about in every direction until she got dizzy and fell right down on her rump.
Things seemed to be perfect for the Triage family, and little Elliott hadn't a care in the world. She was a happy little girl who had it all, until she was eight.
Lio had become a typical little girl. She continued her dance lessons and attempted to grow up too quickly. She loved playing with children her own age, and had become quite the social butterfly, and from the outside the Triage family still looked perfect, no signs of stress or frustration, or even doom, but when Elliott came home at the end of the day, she can still remember the silent spell her house fell under. Her parents weren't laughing anymore, and things became all too serious. Elliott's father was struggling to pay bills and her mother had been laid off of work. Elliott can still remember crawling into her older brother's bed, sneaking under the covers with a flashlight and whispering into the wee hours of the night.
It wasn't until Elliott was in sixth grade, at the ripe age of twelve, that things began to spice up for the young girl. She'd become an excellent dancer, the envy of most girls at the studio, and she'd become quite a social butterfly, keeping her share of friends and enemies beneath her belt. She'd also developed quite an interest in soccer, as well as boys. It was in sixth grade that her school had begun to introduce them to the body, to parts of the body more than just arms, legs, a nose and a head. They had begun to talk with the children about peer pressure, drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, and of course, sex. The children became rowdy, talking about it among themselves inside and outside of school, but Elliott wanted to experience it first hand. She was acting out, using rebellious behavior as a weapon against her parents who were on the verge of divorce. They may have had the rest of the world fooled with their perfect marriage routine, but Elliott had become more intelligent than they'd intended her to be at such a young age, and she saw right through their facade.
It was a few weeks after she'd turned twelve, and she was at her best friend's, Jamie, house. They were playing video games, as usual, hanging out and just having a good time like they had many times before. Besides her brother, she'd grown up with Jamie, and he knew more about her than she seemed to know about herself. It was cold, the weather slowly preparing itself for winter, and his mother had the fireplace lit in the living room. It was a glowing warmth of perfection you could only find in the world of cinema, and if that weren't reason enough for her to go for it, his mother had trusted their youth and responsibility enough to leave them in an empty house for half an hour while she ran to the store. It started off small, sweet kisses and arms wrapped comfortably around necks and waists. It heated up rather quickly, however, and within a few short minutes, Elliott gave away her virginity, something not even her older brother by two years had accomplished yet.
Elliott became closer with her father. He became her confidant, and while she would never reveal the loss of her virginity, she talked to him about everything. The two became a dynamic duo, and he became her rock during the divorce process they all saw coming. By fourteen years old, the process was completed, and both Jackson and Elliott stayed with their father, who'd recently received quite a promotion and quite a raise. They were living the good life, a life their mother would not be included in as punishment for letting her daughter catch her on the kitchen counter, cheating on her father with her teacher.
The Triage family moved to where their father's promotion had been offered, the United States, in a place called Santa Monica, but bliss only lasted so long when Elliott was kidnapped shortly after her fifteenth birthday, a devious plan of her mother's and uncle's in an attempt to get a piece of her father's new wealth. They took her away from her home, locking her in a dingy, damp and dark cellar which reeked of garbage and was crawling with insects and rats. They abused her, using her as bait, daddy's little girl, the apple of Kiefer Triage's eye. She was hit, tossed aound, kicked, burned, cut, and even raped by her uncle while her mother was out one night. She could still remember his greasy fingers running through her hair, and the horror of him ripping her clothes off, touching every inch of her, forcing himself into her and the sickly twist of his amusement due to her struggles and screams. It was a year before they found her in that abandoned warehouse. It took them a year after Kiefer had paid the ransom to find her starving, barely alive. She was unconscious and nude, and her mother and uncle were long gone. It was another few months until she woke up from her coma, until she was able to reveal her rapist, and her abuser. They were arrested immediately, and Elliott was returned home to her family. She was seventeen, and she was lined up for therapy for the rest of her life. Her father paid for no one except the best, and she began to learn to get her life back on track.
She graduated with her class, an accomplishment she worked hard on while anti-socializing herself just to focus on getting rid of the nightmares, and even the daymares. It was a while before she finally learned to sleep through the night, make it through the day without flashing back to that horrible year. It was at eighteen that she began making new friends, and reconnecting with old ones. It was at eighteen that she began rebuilding her life completely. It was at eighteen years old, the summer before her first year at college, that she met him in a bar.
Oliver Tyler Bryson became her new toy. He was handsome, charming, and the spitting image of her in guy form. She found herself enjoying the army man's company, and the two of them became an item shortly after, on the agreement that they were both just passing time and having fun. They became close friends before that though, and while she trusted him with her whole heart, she could never commit, she was too afraid to because of personal scars, personal baggage. She never told him though, in all honesty she was trying to block it from her memory altogether.
The two became too close for her comfort, and she began pushing him away, a regret she'll never let herself live down, and after two years into a blissful and perfect relationship with him, she broke it off.
The two are still friends, and while they both still secretly yearn for each other, Elliott can't bring herself to tell him the truth, to open up with him long enough to relive her own personal nightmare. It hurts every day, but she's too afraid to cope with it.
Currently, she focuses most of her time on her own dance studio, Rhythm, and lives her life one day at a time. She still attends therapy sessions, and is still living a lie, blocking out any painful memory she has as a defense mechanism.
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[/size]- - - OUT OF CHARACTER
ALIAS: DIRTY JERZ ?![/center]
EXPERIENCE: A little over nine years.
OTHER CHARACTERS ON AWA: None, currently.
ROLE PLAY SAMPLE:
( KEMPER ?! OUTFIT. 832 WORDS. COMPLETE! )
"FEEL THIS" SONG LYRICS CREDIT TO BETHANY JOY
CREDIT TO OH SO COOPERNATURAL ! @ CAUTION 2.0She wasn't the type to make a big deal about most things in life. She wasn't the least bit dramatical, and the only time she found herself whining was when she was being adorably pouty to get her way with her closest friends and family, and of course, Kemper. Mira did her best to stay out of drama's way. In fact, Miranda spent many hours in her lifetime mocking those who believed their broken nail was going to end the world, as well as those who thought a breakup or bad relationship was going to end their life. She'd been in that position before, and so had her sister, as well as her closest friend in life. Now she was no preacher, and she'd never claim to have had a bad life, but she'd survived, and so had the many pieces of her fragile heart. She wasn't worse off than anyone else though. She'd never had a deadly disease, and she was well of financially. Mira had a roof over her head, and she'd never starved. She did, however, know what it was like to be on the raw end of a deal, to have been dealt a bad hand. Her grass had never been brown or dying, but it had never been crisp and green either.
Miranda's coffee brown eyes stared up at his big, brown, chocolate ones. They were like liquid chocolate of the milk kind, an even in a distorted state of mind, still made her melt. They still made her heart race, and her knees weak. She wasn't at all in a right state of mind, however. Had she been, she would have remembered logging into that chat room and making a scene about marriage with Kemp, embarrassing him in front of her closest friends and family, all of whom were already convinced the celebrity security detail was bad news for the fragile dancer. If there hadn't of been heroin swimming through her blood stream, clouding her good judgment, Mira would have stopped herself from acting like a spoiled brat. She wouldn't have locked the front door or the bedroom door. She wouldn't have dared scream or cry out loud those doubts and accusations that pierced through the layers of his skin like a hot knife through butter, aiming for his heart as if a dagger. Those same words took away the very gleam in his eyes she held so dear. She would have hated herself right now if she knew how ridiculous she was acting, how much pain she was causing for Kemp.
She stared up at him with puffy, tear stained eyes and smiled weakly. She felt numb, and cold, and as her body began to shiver in a desperate attempt to stay warm, her mind began a more desperate search for answers. It was a panicked attempt, but she did her best, in that moment, not to stir up a big commotion until she could figure out what was going on, but instead, her mind only handed her a handful of jigsaw puzzle pieces consisting of a bottle of Beringer's white zinfindel, a locked door, a screw driver, and herself, crawling over a hard wood floor and loose screws before finally collapsing on the carpet in their living room. She couldn't piece the puzzle together though. Her best shot was to assume she was drunk, but that explanation didn't fit Kemp's worried and disappointed expression. It wasn't as though she'd never been drunk before. It wasn't adding up or making the least bit of sense. An overwhelming need to apologize drowned her, but the why factor continued to stump her, frustrate her.
Mira couldn't remember jerking away from Kemper, screaming for him not to touch her as if he were another haunting memory of her mother, as if even a split second in the fabrics of time, he had even an ounce of intention to hurt her, as if for even a moment she was in any sort of danger. It was only natural for her memory to conveniently forget her remorse afterward as well, blaming herself while falling into a black hole of self destruction, doing her best to convince him that he could do better than her while it was her worst fear to lose him. She'd forgotten how to be Miranda Nicole Ryann without Kemper Tristan Garrett.
Her big, brown eyes continued to stare up at him. This time, her eyes were stained with curiosity while tears began to swell up in them once more. Miranda indulged herself in his warm embrace, still trying to keep warm while burying her face in his lap, the muffled cries she let slide past her lips next were hardly understood. "I'm so sorry. Kemp, baby, I'm so sorry!" Her raspy voice rang over the new found silence of the room.
Jinkies !
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