Post by radha bancroft on Feb 14, 2010 23:18:05 GMT -5
RADHA ELIZABETH BANCROFT;
HEY HEY! THE NAME IS UP ABOVE BUT EVERYONE CALLS ME RAT OR RADDY WHICH IS PRETTY COOL, RIGHT? ANYWAY, I'M A GIRL DAMMIT, BORN IN KOTTE, SRI LANKA, AND AM TWENTY FUCKIN YEARS OLD. DAMN STRAIGHT! STILL YOUNG, BABY! JUST TO GET THE BASES COVERED, I AM AN ASSISTANT AND AM ACTUALLY BI, THOUGH I’VE SWORN OFF THE FEMALES BUT I LOVE LEMONADE, TURTLES, DANCING, CARTOONS, AND FAKE BLOOD BUT I TOTALLY HATE BABIES, RELATIONSHIPS, MUSTARD, VEGETABLES, AND WORK. I KNOW. I'M THE MOST INTERESTING PERSON ON THIS PLANET, YEAH? BUT YEAH IF YOU WANNA KNOW MORE YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO KEEP ON READING!
ATTRACTION'S SATISFACTION ;
[color=b84c7f][b]RADHA BANCROFT[/b][/color] looks sort of like [b]FREJA BEHA[/b] and goes onto aim by the name of [u]GALILEO%[/u] but to hit her up, just call [u]540-1113[/u]. FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENCE ;
PERSONAL STYLE:[/U][/COLOR][/FONT][/BLOCKQUOTE][/SIZE]
[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT][/BLOCKQUOTE][/BLOCKQUOTE]“See, I don’t think I’ve gone shopping, like seriously shopping, in a few years. If you can remember it then fine but not by me, I’m telling you that now. What I know is that I’ve been recycling the same old dark or faded jeans and t-shirts since I was still living with my parents, a long while depending on your point of view. I don’t see any reason to buy new shit when the stuff I have already is good enough. My clothes get changed when I realize how horrible I smell, when work calls for the dressier of attire. But mostly I like the casual, jeans and a t-shirt, some gloves if they’re handy. Leather jackets would be nice but the funds elude me for such an item so I get stuck more often than not wearing this old fucking holey sweatshirt that I think has been in my possession since I was twelve. Well shit, at least my shoe size has changed. Oh, hm, I do dress like a boy. Forgive me for forgetting; I’m so used to it that it slips my mind. If I didn’t flash you or bat my eyelashes or, dare I say, sneak you a peak of my other girl-parts, I’m sure you’d think I was a very pretty young man. And then you’d ask to see my dick and be disappointed.”
PERSONALITY:[/U][/COLOR][/FONT][/BLOCKQUOTE][/SIZE]
[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT][/BLOCKQUOTE][/BLOCKQUOTE]“Ah fuckshit. I hate describing myself. Really, I could make up a lot of stuff and you would just assume that I was being honest. So let’s start there: I’m a rebellious little motherfucker, proud of my job, love my parents, have little scruples with the facts of life but deal with it all through a nice big fat fuckin’ smile. Overkill maybe…
Honestly, I’m no rebel. I might look like one and talk like my dick drags on the ground but I’m not. My job is shit and I haven’t quiet because I’d rather be a whiny pussy. Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather have the money than keep my dignity. Obviously. Besides my annoyance with my job, I suppose I do like to complain; it’s like self-reflection only you’re allowed to swear more and it makes people go away. Loneliness is a good thing sometimes. So yeah, I enjoy the occasional bought of depression and self-loathing like every other person on the planet. I blow things out of proportion when they affect me directly, but hey I’m not gonna stop unless you ask really nicely.
I’m not smart and I have no motivation; I guess the best thing that you could say about me is that I am passionate when the mood hits me just right. These days it’s been a struggle to see that silver lining I keep hearing about. Passion used to be a huge fucking deal but now it’s a glimmer in the surrounding darkness, you have to squint to see it. Hopefully it’ll come back around and gimme a hug but I’ll not hold my breath.”
SIGHTING LIGHTENING ;
FAMILY:[/U][/COLOR][/FONT][/BLOCKQUOTE][/SIZE]
[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT][/BLOCKQUOTE][/BLOCKQUOTE]Mother: Kaveri Vemul Bancroft, 49, N/A
Father: Ryan Christopher Bancroft, 52, Travel Agent
HISTORY:[/U][/COLOR][/FONT][/BLOCKQUOTE][/SIZE]
[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT][/BLOCKQUOTE][/BLOCKQUOTE]“Once upon a time… my parents fucked and out popped a baby. You get the gist. Let’s see, my dad was a travel agent, still is, and he was in Sri Lanka and met my mom and they fell in love and all that shit and got married and then had a kid. All very straightforward and easy. Good for them; there’s probably more than that but I forget so you’re gonna get the short version. I don’t remember living there with my mum’s family, we moved away when I was little. We lived in a lot of places when I was growing up, all over the world, wherever you could think of, I’d probably been there or close enough. It was pretty fuckin’ sweet in my opinion. Yeah, I didn’t get the chance to make friends a whole hell of a lot and keep them and grow up like a normal kid but I hold no quarrel with my upbringing so I don’t care about being compared to other kids who had to travel against their will. Tough titties for them. Hell, I made up stories and exaggerated sometimes when I knew that I wouldn’t e there for long and I laughed along as people believed me so readily. That was when I was younger though.
I’m stuck in Paris now; not stuck exactly. I like it here. My dad’s getting older and he doesn’t like to travel as much, for his health y’know. Paris… the city of love, yeah? Not really, not for me anyways. It’s like every time I get hooked on a girl she goes the opposite direction. And then I go and do it again, like the woman-repeller from a fucking storybook. Don’t get me wrong, guys are okay in small doses and not in droves of muscles and an asshole attitude. I’m more partial to girls, though I can’t keep one for longer than a month or so before I’m getting that awkward and depressingly distant text message telling me it’s over. How sad is that? The worst thing about it is that I got my job through an old girlfriend and her model friends, leggy sexy twerps. Now I’m stuck in a job that I don’t even like and I can’t quit because I need the money. Where the fuck is the justice in the world, people? I just think it’s safer now that I’ve sworn off women; my luck can’t really get any worse. Or I’m just jinxing it and provoking a result.”
PASSING CASTING ;
In all honesty, Jack had more productive things that he could have been doing that evening, quickly turning into night as he left his apartment in the pajamas that he had been wearing since he got out of work earlier. There was no point in putting on other clothes, not that he could see. All he would be doing was heading around to the pizza place around the corner, grabbing a pie, and going to Tally’s dorm. Pajamas were perfectly acceptable for such an adventure as that. Well… Jack thought pajamas were good for any adventure; they were comfortable and you could easily fall asleep in them no matter where you were. The slippers might have been a bit much but he was devout in not wanting to get dressed. So he left his apartment having done nothing more than throw a jacket on over what he was already wearing.
Most of the time, Jack was already craving pizza. It was his favorite food so when he was hungry it immediately came to mind. An hour ago, he had been perfectly satiated. And then he was talking to Tally and he got hungry just by the power of suggestion. It was ridiculous that he could be persuaded that easily but it didn’t make it any less true. Jack was weird in a grand number of ways and that was only one. The absurd and bemused looks followed him from the time that he left his apartment, to his entrance into the pizza parlor, right back outside again onto the sidewalk. He smiled a little happy half-smile as he went; yes, he decided, wearing Star Wars slippers with a muppet’s face on them had been a beautiful idea. He was so full of them at the strangest times, and he didn’t even have to think about it. He lowered his nose down to take in the scent of the pizza that he carried, kind of wanting to stop at the next bus stop bench and eat it all by himself. He could devise a story about killer pigeons or a violent starved hobo when Tally asked. Humming to himself, Jack kept walking and scheming to himself, knowing the way to the college campus without having to think about it. It hadn’t been all that long since he was a student there too.
He had to say that he had been relieved and happy when he got his own place and didn’t have to go to class all the time anymore. He had a lot of free time now but he was still working, both in person and otherwise. Comics and commissions filled a lot of his time when he wasn’t hanging out with friends and going to work at the Planetarium. Jack turned off of the sidewalk into the awning of the building, carefully maneuvering the pizza box out of both hands to only one, also shaking loose the earbuds that were in his ears, the soft music pouring out for anyone close to hear. He was reminded of the many times that he had lost his key for the building and had to wait outside for someone else who also lived there to let him in. It happened more than it should have, resulting in him actually having to eventually pay for the key every time that he lost one. He could just picture dozens of keys sitting in random places in the city; maybe he would come across one in a year or two and smile to himself that he finally located it. A personal triumph indeed.
Jack hit the buzzer for Tally’s dorm room, peering in through the door into the small lobby, eyebrows raised comically. There was no one there. It disappointed him a little, but one look behind him at the sidewalk and a few glances at his slippers put him right again. He buzzed again and spoke into the intercom, “Hey hey, pizza guy. Lemme in before my slippers get cold or I’m gonna eat all your pizza myself.” He leaned one side against the door and looked inside, waiting for her to open up for him. In the meantime, Jack amused himself by opening the pizza box a crack and picking off a slice of pepperoni or two.
Most of the time, Jack was already craving pizza. It was his favorite food so when he was hungry it immediately came to mind. An hour ago, he had been perfectly satiated. And then he was talking to Tally and he got hungry just by the power of suggestion. It was ridiculous that he could be persuaded that easily but it didn’t make it any less true. Jack was weird in a grand number of ways and that was only one. The absurd and bemused looks followed him from the time that he left his apartment, to his entrance into the pizza parlor, right back outside again onto the sidewalk. He smiled a little happy half-smile as he went; yes, he decided, wearing Star Wars slippers with a muppet’s face on them had been a beautiful idea. He was so full of them at the strangest times, and he didn’t even have to think about it. He lowered his nose down to take in the scent of the pizza that he carried, kind of wanting to stop at the next bus stop bench and eat it all by himself. He could devise a story about killer pigeons or a violent starved hobo when Tally asked. Humming to himself, Jack kept walking and scheming to himself, knowing the way to the college campus without having to think about it. It hadn’t been all that long since he was a student there too.
He had to say that he had been relieved and happy when he got his own place and didn’t have to go to class all the time anymore. He had a lot of free time now but he was still working, both in person and otherwise. Comics and commissions filled a lot of his time when he wasn’t hanging out with friends and going to work at the Planetarium. Jack turned off of the sidewalk into the awning of the building, carefully maneuvering the pizza box out of both hands to only one, also shaking loose the earbuds that were in his ears, the soft music pouring out for anyone close to hear. He was reminded of the many times that he had lost his key for the building and had to wait outside for someone else who also lived there to let him in. It happened more than it should have, resulting in him actually having to eventually pay for the key every time that he lost one. He could just picture dozens of keys sitting in random places in the city; maybe he would come across one in a year or two and smile to himself that he finally located it. A personal triumph indeed.
Jack hit the buzzer for Tally’s dorm room, peering in through the door into the small lobby, eyebrows raised comically. There was no one there. It disappointed him a little, but one look behind him at the sidewalk and a few glances at his slippers put him right again. He buzzed again and spoke into the intercom, “Hey hey, pizza guy. Lemme in before my slippers get cold or I’m gonna eat all your pizza myself.” He leaned one side against the door and looked inside, waiting for her to open up for him. In the meantime, Jack amused himself by opening the pizza box a crack and picking off a slice of pepperoni or two.
DESTINATION RESERVATION ;
I, ASH, HEREBY HAVE READ THE PROBOARD AND FORUM RULES AND UNDERSTAND THEM TO THE FULLEST EXTENT AND PLAN TO FOLLOW THESE RULES FOR AS LONG AS I AM ON ON PROBOARDS/THIS FORUM. BY DISOBEYING THESE TERMS AND CONDITIONS, I AM SUBJECTED TO BEING BANNED AND UNDERSTAND/AGREE FULLY WITH THE CONSEQUENCES.[/SUB][/BLOCKQUOTE]
