grace avery ivy

[grace avery ivy]

Application


{ you know you could've been a wonder


character’s name Grace Avery Ivy
gender female
discipline dance ; jazz
age seventeen
sexuality heterosexual


{ comes home on call, isn't that peace,


history

Born a happy girl in the arms of her mother and father, the first two years were most likely the best years of her life. Until an illness hit the city in March of 94', starting off as a cold until it killed your immune system completely, killing the person within the week. The poor three-person family struggled as they decided to stay in the city but best away from the people as they could for the sake of Grace. They didn't want to move her, they supposed it could wreck her learning patterns, being moved into a new environment so quickly. For some reason, no one seemed to be able to treat the sickness quick enough. Some figured that if they could just get the right medicine and doctors in then it would be alright - but no one really has access to one of the smallest and tallest towns in England.

Within the month that her parents had passed, Grace had made it through with nothing having been wrong with her at all. She was moved quickly to the UK and into a foster home - a week later surprisingly a young woman in her twenties eagerly picked Grace up and her and her newly-wed quickly picked the young child. Grace didn't mind her adopted parents. They were far too kind for words - although the only problem was for her that they weren't. They really weren't her parents and even as much as they cared for her it really never compared to anything that she wished she had. Even if that was rude she felt it almost everyday.

Her middle school years were supposed to be her chance to shine - but they truly weren't. She again, stayed in the backgrounds just waiting for that one possible moment - but it never came along. And that tore her apart on the insides how no matter what she did. Friends weren't exactly an trouble for her, but it was just the academic part. Where she didn't only show the teachers or students around her, but herself. She just wanted to prove her could. And she was capable of it.

In grade eight, a boy decided to get extra close. Give her that little extra attention - and that grew to a lot of attention. She returned it and within the week she was almost so sure that she was in love. Not only romantically, but as in just the feeling in her stomach. And she loved it. His name was Ian Sims, a regular boy from school but she wouldn't of approached him in a billion years. It was just something about him when he talked to her that made her feel good about herself. He kept on doing it, and making her feel special. He didn't stop and neither did she - until this had been going on past the time he had asked her to be his girlfriend. She quickly accepted and they continued talking like best friends with of course a few more details into the mix. And then one day, he said he was leaving. He had to move, and he didn't know when to tell her - so he left it till the day of. But the point was that either way he split it, he was still leaving. And gone. So she just didn't bother getting that close to anyone mostly in fear of them leaving.

Oddly, dancing came easily to Grace. Just when her hearing picked up the music, she just started flowing. She knew right away that she wanted to cherish any moment that she couldn't. Any moment that she knew she was taking for granted. Any moment that she knew she would be taking for her mother and father who were there in spirit but not in the flesh - it just wasn't the same. Dancing helped her take out her anger, or frustration on anything. She took the chance of taking that leap on the dance floor where she wouldn't let anything stop her.

And now she is here, confused and naive, but still Grace Avery Ivy and here to live her life.

parents
[ADOPTED-MOTHER]mary-anne fitle
[ADOPTED-FATHER]james fitle
siblings
none


{ am I losin' way too much


personality
kind
As much as Grace enjoys this trait in herself, it can get her into a few problems with most of the people at her school. Her little naive heart is searching for anything that shows even a small sign of welcoming. She can give herself away too easily to the people around her and it harms her in the worst way possible. Grace doesn't show much emotion, but if someone was to smile at her she wouldn't ignore it. It wasn't that she couldn't show emotion, it was more that she knew she couldn't bring herself to go beyond anything else.

quiet
This is the main thing about Grace Patterson. She sticks to herself, and never says much. Her thoughts, in her words, don't matter. They don't compare to what the person is trying to get across, so why intrude with a suggestion or comment that could get you in over your head? Playing her cards right wasn't hard to do - considering she couldn't trust anyone to share most of her thoughts with, and that helped her be more confident in herself for when she thought something was right. Though - again - she would never actually voice it to anyone.

insecure
Grace doesn't have one sure particle in her body. Everything she sees, everything she thinks, anything that she interacts with makes her question anything she's ever done. It wasn't a bad thing in the big picture of things, but when the girl was picking at everything in her free time those "small" things seemed far too big for her to handle later on. With the loss of her parents at such a young age and having to move into her adopted-parents home for over half of her life, she started to blame herself. Well - Why else would her parents of left the town? Because they were worried for their child. In her eyes it truly was her fault and no one could convince her otherwise. And though it must've happened a fair amount of time before, the large gap in between still mattered to her more than anything. People looking at her is almost too hard to handle - with the stares of those rude teens who have no respect for anyone but themselves. How can they just judge a girl who already does enough damage herself?

naive
It's true. No drinking, no drugs, no swearing - this girl is CLEAN. She couldn't ever bring herself to think differently from what her adopted-parents taught her. If she turned to even one certain beverage to have every once and a while it could still pull down everything and even some people around her. It worried her to think that even a swear word could affect what people thought of her - and she didn't want that. It wasn't that Grace didn't know all about the drugs and the odd things that were offered to her, it was just that she chose to ignore it. She was doing fine in life without having something helping her along the way. ...Sometimes.

secretive
She really can not trust anyone. Grace had only ever gotten so close to a boy that she was madly in love with him, and he left her later on to follow up on his school carrier. And so why waste a while getting to know someone so well if they'll just pop out of your lives so fast, with only a goodbye to replace all the memories? No point - and she'll never forget that. Trusting someone had always been a problem for her, no matter what went through her head. Especially in their school, why share things that could be twisted into something uncomfortably untrue?

vulnerable
Grace is one to cry easily. With just one mean thing said she could walk away from the situation completely and try it again later. She didn't want to have to deal with any issues with people "caring" that she was upset when she could tell they really didn't. Grace Patterson didn't deal with people telling her off, or how stupid she was acting. She couldn't handle it - she just couldn't. Grace didn't say things to others and always hoped that that meant nothing would happen upon herself.

likes photography, quiet, calmness, talking, sunny spring days, iced-tea, coffee, rain, neatness, home-cooked meals, trust, working hard, music, being able to provide for herself.
dislikes being rushed, loud things, parties, drinking, drugs, hyper people, yelling, red bull, crying, being idle, swearing, people who poke into her life, having to deal with everything on her own, stress, being alone, snow storms.
ambitions

to be a known dancer
to live her life to the fullest
to find "love"

fears

love
death
losing everything she has
not being able to dance

{ my darling you look lovely


portrayed by? Emily Gautheraux
eyes dark blue
hair blond
height 5'10
style
For clothing, Grace didn't always make too much of an effort, but one that counted. She didn't want to look frumpy, but she didn't want to look too well put together. Mostly vintage t-shirts, tank tops, some shorts, skinny jeans and a few dress-shirts. Nothing too big - she only went "big" on jewelry and sometimes makeup for herself. She could always be found with a big bag, filled with almost anything - anything at all. Books, money, school things, extra clothing, pens, elastics, three i-pods two cameras and anything else that she needed from around her room.


{ and I'm telling you why


your name ginny
age sixteen
years of roleplay three or four - but i quit roleplaying since the summer. now i'm back and ready. though, i do write and am a published writer as well.
code sentence if you like pina colada's and getting caught in the rain
other i like writing. and i'm a social person.
sample post

A small boy rushed Meghan, barely conscious, out of bed. "Theo, come, please now," Her hand rose to her mouth. "Maggie's too tired," She moaned, placing a hand on the boy's honey-blond head. "No, no Maggie's got to come, Maggie's got to stay stay because I hear noises." Her baby brother protested. "It's daddy." Meghan reassured him, squeezing her eyes shut as the hall light nearly blinded the poor girl. "No! It's not! Is daddy under my bed?!" Theo nearly screamed. He hated being told he was wrong, always. "Shush!" Meghan rushed to his mouth, clamping her hand over it.

Meghan. Meghan, come on, now." A voice said softly. "Go to your own bed, I'll take it from here, Hun." Her mother ran a few fingers over Meghan's cheekbone. Her eyes slowly opened, only to find herself in a mess of Spiderman blankets, and her brother crying like hell in the center of the room. "Maggie! You slept!" He cried. "Mum, make him stop," She pulled the covers over her head. "To your room, Maggie." Her mother said again, Meghan hauling herself out of the racecar bed and into her old, comforting, quiet white room she called home.

An alarm clock went off to the soft sound of Death Cab For Cutie, Meghan's hazel eyes slowly opening. 6:50 the clock read. "Good lord," She whispered, turning onto her side – to see a small body latched onto her leg. "Theo," She murmured, pulling him up, and onto one of her pillows. She pulled the covers atop of the small boy, small yawn coming from her. "You want to kill me, don't you?" Meghan's eyes were raised at the ceiling as she pulled herself from the covers. A pang of cold rushed over her, a shiver running up her spoke. She let out a moan, pulling herself to the bathroom. Ah, preparing for school. The 'competitive' time of day. Standing in front of her makeup kit that adorned her whole counter in the bathroom. Her hands grazed the cosmetics, her long fingers carefully picking up her eyeliner. She pulled the towel out of her hair from the shower, Meghan's damp, bleach blond hair falling onto her shoulders. Meghan took pride in her hair, having something her friends and her did when she was drunk turned out quite nicely. Though, her best friend, Sarah, did cut her hair for her. It was choppy, layered, just past the shoulders length. Her sides swept bangs were delicately placed over her right eye just slightly. She raised her hand to her eye, applying the black pencil to around her eyes. Meghan moved back from the mirror once she was done and stared in satisfaction for the task she had just accomplished. Spending only a few more minutes on her make up, she was happily done.

Next task: Hair. Her locks by this time had dried, and she plugged in her straightener to the nearest outlet, placing it on on the only clear spot on the counter. She pressed the on button, pulling out her brush to pass the time while the hunk of metal took time to heat up. She hummed 'Look After You' by The Fray. Goddamnit they owned her. And she didn't just say that because it sounded cool, honestly, it's all she would listen to if she had the choice. Picking up the now warm straightener, she placed the hot plaques over a chunk of her hair, slowly moving it down the colorful piece of work she was always so proud of.

Once again, Meghan had finished with a proud smile on her face. The pin-straight hair hung from her head, and over one of her large, hazel eyes. She moved her face close to the mirror and examined her few freckles that embellished her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She couldn't and wouldn't say she loved them, they were always a pain for when makeup came into the picture.

She moved out of the bathroom and into her bedroom – only to find Theo still sound asleep on her pillow, clutching at the white cotton sheets. As much as Meghan loved her baby brother, he grew to be the biggest pain. How was she supposed to survive a full day if she couldn't survive the night? Aha, next up was: Clothing. This wasn't so hard. She pulled open her drawer, pulling out a long, clean white wife beater, a male Abercrombie brown and white polo. She enjoyed the look of it on her – she really didn't have that much of a figure. 5'9 and 118 pounds was hard to work with at times. Meghan bent down and pulled out the bottom drawer, a pair of light blue Hollister jeans, with a few few rips and tears in them. Done, finally.

In her clean clothing, she stood at her bed, nudging Theo's shoulder. "Baby, wake up." She whispered. "Mjdmeeii…" He moaned. "Theo," The small boy crawled into her open arms, and she took him to his room. Alright. She glanced around the room. Letting out quite a loud and long yawn, she let her eyes briefly close. Time: 7:40. Meh. School. She walked to her dresser, opened a white box and pulled out a small chain bracelet. She clipped it to her wrist and grabbed her white and navy tote she had learned to love. She rubbed her eyes with her fists, a small moan coming from her. "Mummy," She moaned. "Meghan." Her mother answered, turning around in the hall. "Could you be so kind as to driv—" "No." "But mum! Why not? I had to stay up with Theo last night, /and/ let him sleep in my bed." "Yes, as well as leaving him terrified and crying in the middle of the room as you slept. /In his room/. The school is only ten minutes away, I'm sure you can handle that," "Mom, I don't think you understand how tired I—" "Enough." Her mother took a sip of her coffee. "Have fun at school." She moved around Meghan, the teen rolling her eyes. She She let out a groan as she trudged down the stairs.

[Razz Perkins]

ACCEPTED!

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