cher vc can anyone c me . i’m rosie ( she / her ) though i will respond to any number of profanities with sum special luv for village idiot ! i’m not hard to please . i see a woman going feral in a movie , i believe that movie is humanity’s greatest cinematic achievement . who am i , if not a hole for henry cavill ? umm like this to validate me or to get sum plotting going though you can always reach me on discord at elizabeth debicki is 6′3#7585 n ummmm below are the sewer rats !
case file : ramorini , luciano my god , whose performance am i watching
associations : shoulders worn with the weight of the world — an atlas too young and endured too long . scars like ghosts on the skin telling of tribulations from a past life long forgotten . a lack of decorum rejected seemingly centuries past .
1938 , italy what is this space between myself and myself
memoir : palms made to crumble empires and leave ruins in smoke . a wreckoning , a monster made even before the curse of a family legacy . the wicked ways of a grandfather who saw no child in pleading blue eyes — marrow and flesh to be molded . bloodied flesh , teeth bared , veins of ruined ash . sanity and solace in siblings he held too tight . what does it mean to be human , if you never truly were ? years spent lost in a hatred for a self not his own to claim . wishes his hands were made for more than the calamity of ruining but wishing is a faithless practice .
full name : luciano dante ramorini
nicknames : luc , occasionally luci though don’t expect to not get punched in the gut for it
birthdate : december 19
hometown : milan , italy
current location : sacred heart academy , wales
languages spoken : italian , english , latin
distinguishing features : a general unapproachable attitude
physical ailments : n/a
neurological conditions : n/a
positive : iconoclastic , candid
negative : amoral , parlous
fears : succombing to a darkness within him that grows , clawing , begging to be let out
aspirations : escaping this life
likes : rock music , the comfort of being alone , the mutt he took into his home affectionately named bowie , ice baths
dislikes : questions of morality , mint chocolate , having his head crowded with thoughts he doesn’t dare to say out loud , movie adaptations of books
case file : del bosque , cressida mouthful of white hot fire , tongue coated in poison
associations : a scream towards nothingness ; throat made raw and hoarse . nightmares from a past life that awaken your body in a heave all sweat kissed and ribs rattling . pomegranate juice sticky where it runs from a fist clenched too tight .
1938 , cuba there’s a hunger in me , something vicious
memoir : born where womanhood was defined by having a voyeuristic relationship with pain —— am i suffering beautifully ? is my agony lovable ? lived too long as a carefully constructed performance piece to those who would see themselves as supeior and power ( taken , not granted . never granted ) promised a ceasation of begging to be believed , recognized , acknowledged . a willingness to burn villages to the ground , drain people of their blood , and see to the ruin of empires but still thinks men to be the worst monster of all . years have not granted control over her blood lust and greed for power . a stubborn refusal to be tamed .
full name : cressida irene del bosque
nicknames : none
birthdate : november 14
hometown : santa cruz del norte , cuba
current location : sacred heart academy , wales
languages spoken : spanish , english
distinguishing features : an unassuming , innocent face
physical ailments : n/a
neurological conditions : n/a
positive : reticent , sycophantic
negative : choleric , scelestic
fears : completely losing her humanity
aspirations : to make a mark on the world where it counts
likes : milk baths with orange peels and flower petals , overcast skies teasing rain , whiskey and coke , receiving gifts and praise
dislikes : taking orders from those deemed less than her , religion , being threatened or challenged , sacrificing fashion for warmth
case file : stafford , delphine there’s something off about that girl . borderline
associations : wild flowers wilting in a cracked vase ; dry petals at the base . a nightgown torn as barefeet trek through an unforgiving forest — thorns catching at satin and lace . nosebleeds after a moment of acute stillness , static loud where it hums in your head and then , suddenly , quiet .
1951 , france any little shock could push her right over the edge
memoir : old money , silver spoon to quiet bird song cries to the tune of begging for love , to be seen . striking hands and wicked tongues . neighbour’s whispers quelled by forced smiles and chaste family portraits . made to be docile , seen and never heard . fifteen and clinging to girlhood , tabloids racing to cover the story : grisly home murder , young daughter only survivor . when they ask , she cannot say what happened — memory thick and foggy , blood - scented , tasting of ash . distant relatives a new home and she’s safe now ; save for the blackouts , coming to and finding blood that is not her own .
full name : delphine ried stafford
nicknames : dels
birthdate : july 5
hometown : nice , france
current location : sacred heart academy , wales
languages spoken : french , english
distinguishing features : a shy smile almost always hidden away
physical ailments : n/a
neurological conditions : dissociation
positive : seraphic , stoic
negative : diffident , heterotelic
fears : becoming as her parents were
aspirations : raise a family and give them the world
likes : the smell of ocean air , anything chocolate with a special reverence for croissants , art nouveau , tchaikovsky’s valse sentimentale
dislikes : regressing into a self she doesn’t recognize , having her picture taken , unnecessary cruelty , whipped cream in beverages
hello, its nora again ( she/her, gmt ) n this is the ethereal but spoiled alma olive putnam (she goes by all 3 names cos she’s pretentious as fuck). ive never used anya taylor joy as her fc before but anya has a smile that looks like she knows something u dont and thats completely alma’s vibe so we’re gonna try it out. she was raised in a farmhouse in vermont, big horse girl energy. very hungry for everything life has to offer. wakes up and smells the success in her blood. luvs the smell of libraries and listening to french music from a tinny record player in knee socks. here is pinterest. bio is below the cut, like this post to be bombarded with plotting messages but i might forget or get shy tho so pls message me x
application template.
ANYA TAYLOR - JOY , CIS-FEMALE , SHE/HER → according to the school records , ALMA OLIVE PUTNAM has been attending sacred heart for the past three years . i last saw them hanging around the sacred heart cathedral ; i think they were studying the stations of the cross with a smile like a well - kept secret. at twenty - one years old , alma has been studying classics and get this , i heard that she has made a fortune on the black market by forging renaissance art to sell to collectors — figure it’s true ? everyone around here always associates them with neck scarves tied around your throat the way they do in french new wave films , running barefoot through the woods drunk on red wine and untapped power , a smile like a locked door that speaks only in riddles . in the time since these strange happenings , they have have encountered any unexplained occurrences . ( written by nora , 24 , she/her , gmt )
aesthetics.
a red beret nestled on top of bright platimum locks, neck scarves tied around your throat the way they do it in french new wave films, running barefoot through the woods in feckless hedonism, china dolls with porcelain faces lined against the walls of your room, the mona lisa smile, knee-socks tugged over the hockey grazes on your knees, a forged botticelli drying on your easel, ophelia floating in the middle of a lake.
proceed w caution, tw for death, drugs, alcohol, violence
the short form. (still long af tbh)
— studying classics cos she thinks it makes her sound smart, but actually hates fuckin latin and just loves learning about feckless hedonism and the festivals of bacchus and writing about how all women in myth are literally forgotten. was expelled from princeton in her first year so her parents basically paid her way into sacred heart and the board really liked her in her interview. i think the governors kind of expect to see her in the supreme court one day or st
— born in vermont in a big old farmhouse. her great-great-grandfather moved to america as an immigrant and worked on a plantation, made his way up cos he could speak a lot of languages and therefore win more people over. for the last two generations, putnam men have owned the farm and do little of the dirty work. big in the meat industry.
— both her parents had large personalities, so alma’s never really been shy around adults, even as a kid she’d speak to them in a forthright, confident manner, and because she was always surrounded by adults, she’s always seemed a bit wise beyond her years.
— very much a consolidation of every character in the secret history. has a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs. obsessed with w.h. auden and the beat poets.
— ”aestheticism is the only thing worth pursuing and even that is pointless”
— is majoring in classical civilisation. can read ancient greek and latin. also speaks french.
— studies hard and plays hard. she gets top marks but it’s because academia is literally her life, she loves the smell of libraries, the ancient smoke of learning, of feeling like old wine in a new bottle reincarnated from the bones of some old, dead witchy woman who invented a cure for cowpox or somethin.
— isn’t a foward-planner, however. alma prefers to leave her options open, play the field, live in a spontaneous manner so her study style is mostly cramming a few days before a test, or staying up all night writing an essay on a massive adrenaline boost powered by red bull or probably adderall, scribbling (or typing) furiously into the night.
— pretentious motherfucker. loves poetry, especially the romantics, loves morbid ones too, edgar allen poe, sylvia plath, allen ginsberg, she just loves them all. can’t get enough. her favourite films are like…. wanky artfilm independent european cinema. especially french new wave. “what do you think of goddard’s work??” while snorting a line off someone’s sink at 5am on a school night, but you can bet she’ll make it to that 9am class.
— very intelligent and beautiful and knows both of those facts. plays devil’s advocate. humanitarian, vegan.
— judgemental but takes great care not to appear so. petty and vindictive
— obsessively devours mystery and thriller novels. she herself is a gillian flynn book waiting to happen.
— tries to be an enigma. wants to be mysterious and unreadable because that’s what books have taught her makes women desirable and interesting and cool. very amy dunne in the way she expertly reinvents herself to suit her audience, when she wants to impress
— an incredibly talented dancer. she was accepted to juliard to study ballet, but after an injury to her foot she had to refuse her place, something that she’s incredibly bitter about. she went to princeton instead to study classics for a semester, before being expelled.
— alma comes from a family of high-end art dealers. while her parents paid her way into the school, that was mostly due to previous expulsions, not low intelligence. she’s incredibly intelligent but will only put in effort when she deems the cause worthy. she’s frustrating to teach, because she requires evidence, truth, in order to accept something as worthwhile. she plays devil’s advocate, but academically she’s brilliant.
— she can recognise any renaissance artist just by their brush strokes. her aunt and uncle deal antiques and art, and from an internship with them after her expulsion from princeton, she learned how to market and sell art, how to recognise originals in contrast to fakes. from this, alma began to produce counterfeit art and sell it off as the original work to the contacts she had made in her internship. it’s disloyal, but it’s powerful.
— act like the flower but be the serpent under it. is a user. manipulative. leads people on. will throw another student under the bus to demonstrate her own intelligence and integrity
— heavily involved in the theatre society. loves attention.
— has an addictive personality. seems unable to do anything in a small dose, she has to let it utterly consume her. with sports, she’s fiercely competitive, runs track, played lacrosse at school, now is a cheerleader probably. with alcohol, it’s never a shot, it’s a whole bottle – wine or whiskey – she’ll be table dancing before the night’s up and making out with someone she’ll regret in the morning.
— her clothing style is like…. vintage thrift store but make it preppy. berets and cute hats, neck scarves, large fluffy cardigans or like those leathery jackets with big suede fringes on them, mini skirts (very 70s), and knee-high socks or boots. quite often she’ll be in sports kit, maybe a cute tennis skirt, n when she’s feeling casual she’ll wear like, a talking heads tshirt with a pair of mom jeans and converse, but otherwise, the library is her catwalk.
— relates to ophelia from hamlet and sibyl vane in dorian gray. weirdly obsessed with women who commit suicide. loves jackson pollock paintings and abstract art.
– likes old things. old books, old music, old houses, it reminds her of happier times like when she wasn’t alive. buys all her music on vinyl and has a gramophone because “the sound quality is better” kfdsjj.
plots.
here are some generic wanted plots but by all means message me so we can flesh them out more if any strike ur interest:
study buddies !! someone who is equally unprepared and so spends all night in the library with alma before a big deadline, maybe they even met in the library
if they’re from new england or vermont, then cousins . second cousins / extended family / family friends – probably spat volavons on your character once as children, omg childhood friends !
honestly someone who is fully in love with her or crushing on her that she can just break would be sweet :/ or on the other hand someone she unexpectedly gets feelings for and actually wants to guage her own eyeballs out bc of it
frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! former best friends separated by sporting or academic rivalries !
hockey / cheer friends who are on other teams but who she absolutely loves playin against!!!
fellow academics who like meeting up to discuss latin and greek ! gimme a secret society bonding by their love of ancient learning
i reckon she’s in a lot of societies, definitely the film club, maybe works as a projectionist at the uni cinema if they have one so give me ppl affiliated with that, give me fellow wanky pretentious art-lovers and poets and historians who will go to museums and galleries with her and listen to the velvet underground on vinyl
people she gets mortally fucked off her tits with at parties
people who think she is throwing her academic potential away by caving to hedonistic impulse
a secret society !!! honestly i would die for a slug club esque thing in which the children of notable families are invited to dinners or alma’s also an art forger, so maybe like a club of students set up to basically forge paintings and documents from the university special collections
people she has drunkenly made out with, hooked up with, or regularly sleeps with casually, maybe even a friend w benefits she is repressing feelings for, i love angst,
people she used to date or unrequitedly likes, but to them it’s just a physical thing, give me all the thirsty angst plots, and maybe some softness too, i need some religion in this girls life, she is a roman catholic after all
full biography.
alma olive putnam.
intro.
the girl is a knife. razor-sharp, double-edged, the bright shine of a two-faced, lovely thing. silver like the secrets you magpie thief from other heads. you’re a scavenger of knowledge, of tidbits, of gossip to lock away for later use and late-night re-inspection. a mind is like a clock if you get to learn the pieces. bit by bit, you dismantle the inner workings of the brains that tick around you – how easy it is to change it’s path, how words and their meanings can make a person laugh or cry in an instant. to have the power to control that is to be a god. it’s the power trip you crave wielding pom-poms in your hands; a possessive need for control that a younger you, small and weak, never had as a child. small lips, smaller smile, a doll clutched in your too-hungry fingers, hard enough to shatter the bones of a real infant. you cut your hair with your mother’s kitchen scissors before the autumn falls, rendering you out of season, unfit for the cold weather that beats against the nape of your neck, where a stick-and-poke marks the star you were born under ; the bull. “mama, when will i be a queen?” as soon as they find a crown small enough not to slip from your head.
biography.
if you get hungry enough, they say, you start eating your own heart. hands red, stained by pomegranate seeds, the empty pulp of its shell splattered on your thighs you find yourself wondering – what would it be like to want? in the beginning, you never knew hunger. twins, born under the same star, you first, him second – a nuclear family. never a sister to compete with, you were always the cherry pie of your parents’ hearts. white-haired, blue-eyed, beautiful baby of mine. the townhouse in vermont and the summer house in lyon, you wanted for nought, showered with attention, saddled with gifts - hardly a wonder you came to rely on such affection as a confirmation of your own worth.
at eight years old you first met death, blood on a gingham-print dress, a smear of it over your cheekbone and the pulp of a mangled animal at your feet murdered by the hands of a stable boy. “alma, my precious baby, you get away from that filth,” your mama would cry from the upstairs balcony – cigar in one hand and a bloody mary in the other – though whether the filth she referred to was the dead pig or the boy with a kernel of corn in his mouth, you never did find out.
your family earned their keeps in farming, great-grandfather wolfgang hildegarde a german immigrant, great-grandmother maura lisbon a prairie girl. they fell hopelessly in love between troughs and pig-shit, working for three dollars a day at a farm their descendants would later own, trade deals with the indians, vacations to calcutta, your father todd putnam in the kind of sheepskin coat his father’s father could only dream of owning. he worked hard so that you’d never have to. your mama once asked – you heard it through the window, rounding cartwheels across the picket-fenced lawn – could he not find a respectable career rather than selling shrink-wrapped pork for a dime a dozen? that blood money had no business raising a child. you look far back enough, edie, your father had said in his low, strong voice that could bring a civil war to silence, and i think you’ll find that all money is blood money.
language was never fickle on your tongue, french dinner time talk by the time you were out of your hush puppy shoes, your mama fixing the au pair a smile as she fixed herself another martini. you learned the clarinet at four and how to dance with the grace of a swansong at six, ethereal under a spotlight, an audience captive in the palm of your hand. by eight you knew that you’d always been destined to be loved. loved so hard they would want to taste you, bite into the soft plump of your cheek and eat you alive. that was how magnetic you wanted to feel. but mother hamsters eat their own young when penned in together too long, and soon you became too wild, too restless, another package on your father’s delivery invoice, box-shipped out to english boarding school.
fitting in had never been something you had to concern yourself with. you were always the shiny new toy the other girls wanted to play with, bright like a dropped coin from a magpie’s beak. wherever you went, you seemed to leave a trail of awe, pig-tailed harriet’s adoring you, imitating you, teachers forgiving your class-time chatter for the sake of your wild heart and the restless spirit you possessed. tell us what it’s like in the states, alma. they’d coo, enamoured by your hollywood drawl. does your father own a gun? you hardly knew. barely even knew the colour of his hair, for the scarce amount of times he’d stoop to kiss your cheek, though you’d tell silver-tongued tales if it’d guaranteed you an audience. when you learned how to smile at the right times, and that flattery would get you everywhere, it soon became apparent that charm would pave the yellow brick road to success even when your lack of drive couldn’t.
the road you followed – gum-snapping, roller-blading, friendship bands all up your arm – eventually led you to sacred heart. bright-eyed and gingham skirted, you’d always known you were more. there was a hunger in you to be something extraordinary, a want so adamant to be imagined and desired that it was almost savage. in leather-bound volumes and a circle of stones, you were helen of troy, the girl for whom they’d launch a thousand ships. but there’s so much rage within you, collecting like sawdust in cavernous parts. hockey helped. there was something grounding about the feeling of a stick clasped in your hands. sweat. stiff knuckles. feet pounding the earth. the smash of wood against flesh in the scram of a game, passed off as mere enthusiasm. “slipped, sorry.” hockey is the one thing you had that was yours alone – a feral instinct that motivates you to play; something primitive within you that sparks an energy like no other. on the pitch, you feel alive. you feel like a god.
take your heart from your chest & examine it
let it bleed in your hands
talk to it softly
as you might once have spoken to a lover
𝑑𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑦 ℎ. 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑛
“ poor , unfortunate half of a soul . the girl cullen hasn’t been the same since the incident . the incident , what else are we to call it ? surely , it had to have been a cruel prank . who would do that to themselves ? one minute she’s excusing herself to shove her nose -- ( do you think it’s real, by the way ? they do have some money , don’t they ? ) -- back into that nonsensical bore of a book , and the next , she’s filling the hall with the nightmarish scent of DEATH ! we couldn’t get her out of bed for days , not even a word , not even for her brother . she just lay there , wrapped in stained polyester , covered in that little piglet’s blood ! they had to force her into the showers eventually , hose her down , and that was a whole seperate ordeal ... she got over it , obviously . mostly . i mean , she was never really much more than the shell of a person in the first place ... easy to miss in that hand - me - down menswear , quiet , boring . and it’s not like we never tried with her . even before the incident ! sure , she seems nice enough , but i’ll bet she waxes poetic behind closed doors about how uncultured the rest of us are . fuck off , i know who oedipus is ! hey , can i get another bump ? ” 28.01.1974
OF THE DUSK
NAME : daisy hypatia cullen . AKA : no friends , no nicknames . DOB : tbd , 1952 . GENDER : cisfemale . PRONOUNS : she/her . SEXUAL ORIENTATION : demisexual . ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : panromantic . RELATIONSHIP STATUS : weird , codependent & unavailable . OCCUPATION : classics student . HOMETOWN : nearby , don’t worry about it . LOCATION : the richmond house , don’t worry about it pt two . FACE CLAIM : lily rose depp.
BEFORE NIGHTFALL
one half of forehead gang present ! is a twin and it shows ... it shows . would murder a man ( and a piglet , perhaps ? ) for her brother , reese . apologies in advance ! / lack of self - care is not limited to her blood - soaked misadventures . yes , she will use a washing machine , but she’s not going to any extra effort for all those cigarette burns & coffee stains . fingernails are only dirt free ( why tf is she always digging in it !? ) because she’s chewed them down to their beds . had & has all the potential to be lovely , grandma is so disappointed ... / well - mannered , polite enough , very sweet , wishes u well , but is absolutely avoiding you & everyone else . would love some friends , but she’s just not going to take time out of all her unhealthy obsessions & ophelia antics to maintain any relationships . ugh , how happy could she be if she would just let some fockin’ gal pals in ! / classics students apologists ( donna tartt nation ) rise , she’ll try anything she reads about ... once it’s dark out / yes , she’s a cheap camilla , sue me !
MADDISON JAIZANI , CISFEMALE , SHE / HER → according to the school records , BEVERLY SAFIE MAHDAVI has been attending sacred heart for the past two years . i last saw them hanging around the cliffs ; i think they were adding to the graffiti . at twenty - one years old , bev has been studying history and get this , i heard that she often sinks beneath the waves when going for a swim near the cliffs , only to reappear after an impossible amount of time has passed — figure it’s true ? everyone around here always associates them with opening the window on a sunny afternoon expecting warmth but instead being met by a cold and thawing stillness , crossing your fingers behind your back , headlights cutting through fog like thin sheens of ice . in the time since these strange happenings , they have encountered unexplained occurrences .
the quality of these intros has rapidly declined... but i’m doing my Best. — trigger warning for drowning.
grew up in the beach town of brighton, she’s always loved the ocean & summer is her favorite time
her parents own one of the most successful restaurants right near the boardwalk, and bev was always a bright, sunny girl, toddling around and greeting customers ever since she was little
they weren’t the richest family in the world, but they made good money every summer, and bev was their darling only child
she got anything she could ever want, piles of clothes and makeup as she grew into a teenager, always striving to maintain her popular girl status at school
funny how one day can change everything, huh ?
as a beach baby, she’d always been a strong swimmer, and had never had any issues before — but one day a storm whipped up while she was out in the waves for an evening swim
bev got pulled under the waves, and by the time she was rescued, she hadn’t been breathing for a while. much too long to still be alive
nevertheless, doctors tried everything they could to bring her back — and imagine their surprise when she took a gasping breath and opened her eyes
it was a miracle, everyone said, and bev herself moved in a state of shock for a while after her resuscitation
ever since then, though, she’s been... a little off
her hands are always ice cold, her lips tinged just a slight shade of blue ( which she covers up with a nice lipstick, but... still )
sometimes puddles of ice cold water appear seemingly randomly in her apartment so that’s fun
still, she tries to live normally, especially after coming to sacred heart. but something about the waves always seems to be calling her home
as for personality, she’s a little vapid and materialistic, a little condescending and occasionally mean, but she’s got a good heart under it all. she means well ! she’s just a lil clueless sometimes ! yes she is reminiscent of cher horowitz sometimes thank u
definitely not the luckiest when it comes to love :/ i’m sure she’s gone through a slew of significant others and is always surprised when her heart gets broken
mmm that’s all for now folks
PLOTS !
childhood / summer friends — bev is from brighton so it’s possible that your character met her while on vacation ! bonus points if they go to brighton every year & they’ve maintained the friendship over time
platonic soulmates — we love bffs in this house
study buddies — she’s absolutely miserable with math and the sciences, someone pls help her
drunk friends — maybe bev wouldn’t be caught dead with them sober, maybe they hate each other sober... who knows !
enemies to lovers — tell me it wouldn’t be SPICY
rebound — she always sleep with this person when she breaks up with someone or gets her heart broken
FLORENCE PUGH , CISFEMALE , SHE / HER → according to the school records , ZOEY ELIZABETH ZINGER has been attending sacred heart for the past three years . i last saw them hanging around the cliffs ; i think they were drawing patterns into the dirt with the toe of her shoe and finding faces in storm clouds . at twenty - one years old , zoey has been studying philosophy and get this , i heard that she went missing as a child , prompting a public search effort , only to reappear in the middle of the night a week later , unharmed but with no memories of what happened to her — figure it’s true ? everyone around here always associates them with cutting your own hair at three in the morning , not recognizing your reflection in the mirror , and needing to be reminded that you are alive . in the time since these strange happenings , they have encountered unexplained occurrences .
hey , it’s me ! back again for trip number TWO on the hot mess express ! your conductor today will be miss zoey zinger , human disaster ! all aboard !
alright so . FULL disclosure , a lot of this is a wip bc i decided at the last minute to pick up another character JKSDMS . but ! this won’t be nearly as long as natalie’s ( the audience cheers ) so you’re welcome !
here’s some stuff i have :
a pinterest board !
a stats page !
no bio or anything bio adjacent , sorry :/
so ! here’s what we got so far
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈 : 𝑨 𝑯𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀
she was born on february 29 , 1952 . . leap day . i know . icb it either ! it rly does set the tone . . anyways ! she was born in a town called bromley , just outside of london . her dad , arthur zinger , was an established member of parliament when she was born . her mom , betsy zinger , was a housewife .
her childhood was all well and good and relatively uneventful until . .
( tw : child abuduction )
when she was nine years old , she went missing from her family home . the daughter of a politician going missing , of course , spread like wildfire and people all over the place were set on helping return her home . after a week of searching without any leads , zoey reappeared in the middle of the night . she didn’t remember anything that had happened to her , but according to all of the many doctors who examined her after said that she was unharmed . it didn’t appear to be targeted towards her father’s career , nor was there any evidence that she was in any danger now that she was home . so it was eventually dropped .
( end tw )
she was “ okay ” but like . she wasn’t okay . she very much lived in the shadow of that for the rest of her life , everywhere she went .
it only got worse when her dad was elected prime minister five years later . yes , that’s right ! the prime minister himself . then she had another whole shadow to live in .
now she’s at university and she’s still very much . doesn’t know who she is . she’s very much had her whole life defined by the things that have happened to her and so she’s like ? but who am i really ? she doesn’t know , n she’s majoring in philosophy even though she can’t do anything with it n she’s just . havin a rough time .
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 : 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀 .
okay so like . she’s a lot so this is going to be . . very disorganized and i apologize
okay
so she was homeschooled for a long while after her whole Incident bc her mother was very . . protective , n with good reason i don’t blame her . so her social interactions were limited n she was rly rly shy for a long time n she’s more social now BUT still quiet deep down and social situations kind of stress her out #relatable
she definitely thinks that something is wrong w her because she Thinks that she’s not affected by everything that happened to her . she just doesn’t realize that the repressing is the trauma behavior . like she just hasn’t accessed that part of her brain bc therapy ? in this day and age ? no way !
she also gets rly stressed abt social interaction bc . babygirl is GAY AS FUCK !
again . in this day and age ? no way !
she is super , super , painfully closeted because she knows that a ) it’s big time not acceptable for her to be into girls and b ) even more , it’s against her father’s political beliefs and that’s , , not something she’s ready to unpack yet
tried to date boys , it didn’t work out . she’s still very Overly Flirty w men bc she’s overcompensating but she Won’t go out on dates or anything serious n i feel like it gives her a little bit of a bad rep :/
she’s kind of just like that in general like ? very quiet in a way that’s mysterious n alluring , , like a manic pixie dream girl type of situation . and ppl fall in love w their idea of her but not the real her :(
she’s very dreamy , very in her own world . definitely has some elements of luna lovegood going on in there
very soft , so so fucking soft
very loyal to people and very sentimental and very homey .
needs stability or she will die . period .
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈 : 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺 .
i’m running out of time so these will b short , sweet , and i can elaborate more in the dms n whatnot
okay
first of all , i want all the gay angst IN THE WORLD . please give me secret relationship / relationship adjacent things pls ! sneaking around ! pain ! suffering !
exes !
guys that she dated that she ended things w bc she didnt actually love them like that :(
girls that she dated in secret ? where things ended Badly bc of the whole , , closed doors only thing :( :(
pls . . this is so important , i rly want someone who will b her fake bf PLS . like maybe they’re also closeted n it’s mutually beneficial . maybe they want to make someone else jealous n are like “ okay let’s do it ” , maybe just a good friend who wants to help her n then things get Messy if / when they become involved w other ppl
FRIENDS . supportive friends who like . know but they pretend like they don’t know bc she needs to come out for herself
maybe . a girl who she had a Huge Fucking Crush on and it manifested in this rly negative jealousy / rivalry type of thing ?
okay thats all i got for now whew .
if u read all / any of this . . i love u . <3 either hmu on discord ( let's go 𝓁𝑒𝓈𝒷𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓈 ! #6227 ) ksdjfskm OR ! like this n i will come to u ! okay , that’s all , bye
according to the school records, ADELITA SANTIAGO has been attending sacred heart for the past TWO YEARS . i last saw them hanging around STAN’S PLACE ; i think they were CLOSELY INSPECTING EVERY PATRON ENTERING AND LEAVING THE BAR . at TWENTY years old , lita has been studying PSYCHOLOGY . and get this , i heard that they WERE SHIPPED OFF TO SACRED HEART AFTER A NASTY FIGHT WITH THEIR STEPMOTHER — figure it’s true ? everyone around here always associates them with THE INCESSANT POPPING OF BRIGHT PINK BUBBLEGUM , GOLDEN RINGS GLISTENING IN THE SUNLIGHT , and A DULL ACHE RESOUNDING THROUGH A HOLLOW CHEST . in the time since these strange happenings , they HAVE NOT encountered unexplained occurrences .
it’s me again, back to introduce a new muse!
BACKGROUND
born & raised in mexico city (ie mexico’s capitol)
her mother died during childbirth, which left her father to raise adelita on his own
he did a very good job of that while also running his own flourishing business
adelita’s father developed a habit of spoiling her once he had the means to do so
because of this, adelita’s life was perfect until she was thirteen
that’s when her stepmother (marisol) came into the picture
basically, marisol was a gold digger who loved her father’s money
marisol eventually moved the whole family (including a stepbrother) to spain
stepmother felt threatened once adelita grew into her looks & started tormenting her
on top of that, adelita was bullied at her private school
everything came to a head on adelita’s eighteenth birthday
her stepmother took her aside and told her something so cruel, so offensive, that adelita will not repeat it to this day
in retaliation, adelita physically attacked her stepmother in front of all their guests
that’s what got her sent to sacred heart by her father, who was beyond mortified
he’s on the verge of cutting her out of his will and has taken his wife’s side, but hopes that time at university will set adelita straight
even though adelita has promised to behave, she can often be found at stan’s place because she wants to rebel however she (safely) can
PERSONALITY
fake it ‘til you make it, right? (see: adelita acts like hot shit despite thinking otherwise)
flaunts all of the trendy outfits, jewelry, etc that her dad’s money buys
because she’s upset with her dad, she gladly spends his money
if you kiss her ass, there’s a chance she’ll drop a few grand on you for the hell of it
swoons and fawns over anyone with more money than her
so far, she hasn’t had any experiences with the creepy/spooky happenings
because of this, she laughs off every rumor she hears
and will most likely mock anyone who tries to convince her otherwise
chaotic bisexual who gladly hooks up with men and women alike
anything to get back at her father and numb the pain she’s experiencing deep down
she will 100% do things out of spite, even if it’s to her own detriment
may or may not be willing to throw hands at any given time
PLOTS/CONNECTIONS
roommate — adelita’s father insists that she stays on campus, so her roommate has to hear her complaining constantly about their dorm
bad influences — someone who encourages her risky and wild behavior and probably uses her money as they please
good influences — someone who is trying their best to reel her in
exes — adelita fuels her wavering ego by breaking hearts and taking names and has little concern about her exes
booty calls — gender doesn’t matter as long as they’re cute and temporary
stepbrother — think of the messiness of her stepbrother attending the same school, having to interact with a stepsister he probably hates
LINKS
a full bio page
details a bit more of her background and the messiness of it all
COURTNEY EATON , CIS FEMALE , SHE/HER → according to the school records , IVY HAEATA ANDERSON has been attending sacred heart for the past three years . i last saw them hanging around the john bracken library ; i think they were writing poetry in a leather-bound notebook . at twenty one years old , ivy has been studying english literature and get this , i heard that she roams the tunnels when plagued by insomnia in the dead of night — figure it’s true ? everyone around here always associates them with faded photographs with illegible writing on the back, shaky hands clutching a bouquet of wilted flowers, and the soft sound of rain hitting the roof . in the time since these strange happenings , they have encountered unexplained occurrences . ( written by rose , 23 , she/her , est )
hello lovelies!! my name is rose and apparently i like plant names because this is ivy! i’m super excited to be here. like this and i’ll hit you up to plot!! (or you can dm me, my discord is scoops troops#4933)
tw for death, bullying
- ivy grew up in kaikoura, new zealand. her mother was also raised in kaikoura, while her father was from england. they met as students at the university of canterbury. they had always known that after they graduated, he would go back to the uk, but what they hadn’t planned on was her mother becoming pregnant with ivy. (it was very scandalous, especially given that this was 1952). he had a promising job offer back in england so he left, leaving ivy’s mother and grandmother to raise her. she had a happy childhood in a beautiful beachside town, raised by two women she loved and admired. ivy did go to england every year to spend the summer with her father, and while she didn’t have the best relationship with him, she knew he loved her in his own way.
- when ivy was 11, her mom died. it was extremely devastating for both her and her grandmother. ivy had always been shy, but the loss made her retreat even further into herself. she had always loved reading, and after her mother’s death books became her best friends. she began reading at an advanced level and always had her nose in a book. it wasn’t long before she started writing, too, mostly journaling but also short stories and poetry (the kind of stuff she looks back on now and cringes, but was decent for an 11 year old). a couple years after her mother died, ivy found a box filled with dozens of her mother’s journals. she’s read every page at least five times, and sometimes will look through them to see what her mother was doing on that day however many years ago. they helped ivy feel close to her mom, and the profound impact that they had on her inspired her to become a writer.
- ivy’s shyness made her kind of an easy target in terms of bullying, a seemingly never-ending stream of insults and name calling, and for a long time she just took it because she didn’t think there was any other way to deal with it. but one day when she was in high school, some boys said some… less than savory things about her mom (small town, young single mother, people suck, etc. etc.) and she flipped out. like all of this anger that even ivy didn’t know was bubbling under the surface just kind of exploded. it was so shocking to people, for this sweet, quiet girl to become so loud and angry, that they found it amusing and the bullying got worse.
- her grandmother was her rock, but she decided she wanted to get as far away from there as she could, and her father suggested she look at universities in the uk. ivy wasn’t sure what drew her to sacred heart, but it just felt like the place she was supposed to be.
- given how shy ivy is, she’s not always the easiest to get to know and she doesn’t have a lot of friends. she’s definitely a wallflower type (wow my subconscious really named this wallflower after a plant that grows on walls, idk how to feel about this lsakdjfhsldkfjhsd) and she typically lets other people take the lead in conversations. she comes across as mousy, in a sweet sort of way. but for the people who actually do get to know her, she’s an extremely kind and loyal person. she’s really passionate about literature and art and music and history and if you’re talking about any of that? all of a sudden she won’t shut up. she doesn’t handle strong emotions well, like she definitely happy cries. and angry cries. and tired cries. basically she cries a lot. her anger is a lot more in check than it was when she was a teenager, but if she feels like someone or something she cares about has been disrespected she will lash out quite suddenly. (and then go cry about it). she’s kind of a mess, emotionally speaking, the one thing that really helps her handle that is writing about her feelings, and she journals religiously.
- a few quick headcanons: she listens to music like 92% of the time and you can thank her dad for a deep love of britpop and jazz. she loves baking and if she has access to an oven she’ll probably give you cookies on a regular basis. she’s left handed and the side of her hand is always covered in ink smudges. she’ll do stupid things because she thinks it will be good inspiration for a story, when in reality, she’s just being stupid. she has terrible insomnia and sometimes reads encyclopedias to try to fall asleep. she likes to hide behind a camera and take pictures of other people to avoid having pictures taken of her. cannot sing to save her life. loves black coffee and cigarettes and is in denial that beatniks aren’t cool anymore. is pretty much always carrying around a book. scribbles in the margins of everything. her new zealand accent is noticeable but not thick, and is gradually fading the longer she’s in the uk.
and more aesthetics because it was really hard to narrow down to three: dirt underneath your fingernails, tear-stained cheeks, getting lost in a museum, messy hair, always being cold, stargazing, oversized wool sweaters, preferring to listen rather than speak, homesickness.
wanted connections:
ride or die!!, fairly self-explanatory, someone she can be 100% herself around and in exchange for their love and friendship she’d, you know, die for them
close friends, pretty much the same thing??
someone she knew from her summers in england!! (i’m pretending that new zealand has their extended school break during the northern hemisphere summer ok)
roommate, i don’t know which would be better, them getting along or them hating each other
enemy/annoyance, it’s not exactly easy to piss her off but once you do she is pissed
writing buddies?? like they share their work with each other and give notes and stuff, maybe in some sort of club?
some sort of mentor? a lit professor would be great but really anyone who teaches the arts/humanities, bonus points for cultists
a professor who hates her, she’s such a goody goody that would really kill her
bad boy meets good girl, honestly i’m a sucker for this trope, i love mess what can i say
really any kind of opposites attract situation, romantic or platonic
flirtationship, she’s really not good at being upfront about how she feels but maybe she’ll write something that’s the poetry version of subtweeting about them, she’s angsty as fuck
exes, just more mess and angst please and thank you
idk if this is too sadistic but maybe the wrong corner of a love triangle? like, the corner that gets left behind when the triangle becomes a line (i can’t do geometry analogies i’m sorry) just a thought because...mess
DOVE CAMERON , CIS FEMALE , SHE/HER → according to the school records , AMANDA HOLLY MORGAN has been attending sacred heart for the past one year . i last saw them hanging around stan's place ; i think they were smoking a cigarette . at twenty - one years old , amanda has been studying fashion design and get this , i heard that she can sense the presence of spirits — figure it’s true ? everyone around here always associates them with pastel colored clothing, blood red lips, the eerie sound of heels clacking down an empty hallway . in the time since these strange happenings , they have encountered unexplained occurrences .
hey whadup it's ya boy skinny penis !! i can't wait to bring my baby luv amanda to this rp. you can find her stats page by clicking on this wine glass 🍷 & her wanted connections page by clicking on this stiletto 👠
bio
amanda holly morgan was born in los angeles, california to a wealthy family. her father owns a chain of luxury hotels all over the states and has been grooming his children to take over the business. amanda was the ‘it’ girl all throughout high school, throwing the wildest parties, hooking up with famous celebrities, and wearing clothes fresh off the runway. she was enrolled into sacred heart academy by her dad, looking to put an end to her incessant partying and rule-breaking. she is pursuing fashion design as she found it to be an easy major given her affinity for style. she is often seen at stan’s drinking or smoking her usual pack of cigarettes or sneaking lovers into her dorm room.
the rumor
amanda has always had a certain sensitivity to the supernatural. she reported seeing strange figures since childhood but it was often brushed off by her family, believing her to have an overactive imagination. since enrolling to sacred heart, she had seen certain mysterious figures around the chapel and heard pained moans from the tunnels. she avoids them like the plague, opting to stay in her room or in crowded places.
