Post by .:Lab:. on Apr 9, 2011 21:58:28 GMT -5
lark elizabeth taylors
[atrb=border,0,true][bg=2b2b2b] [style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: 0px; ]iza title! * She never slows down, She doesn't know why but she knows that when she's all alone, feels like its all coming down She won't turn around The shadows are long and she fears if she cries that first tear, the tears will not stop raining down name; Lark Elizabeth Taylors. age; 15. sexuality; Straight. birthday; August 14th, 1995. I think 1995. I fail. ____________________________________________ likes. Lark particularly enjoys running. She also has a strange affection for the rain. Being alone calms her down, also. dislikes. Crowded and busy places make Lark tense up and get all jittery. She hates lots of people, and people who think they are all that or bad. power. None yet, if/when she is experimented on, maybe she will contract one. That made it sound like they are a disease.. occupation. Student. Oh yeah. activities. Lark has learned that she actually enjoys the track team a lot, even though they don't compete, no body to compete against. Another thing that she is interested in is just strolling around aimlessly in the park, or alone in the empty school halls. The halls remind her of her alleys at home, in New York. [/style] |
[atrb=border,0,true][bg=2b2b2b] [style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: 0px; ]watever title u want personality. Lark happens to be about as shy as shy gets. She hardly ever comes in contact with other people, and so sometimes she is a bit rusty on how to act when confronted with them. If she does happen to meet another, her arms instantly hang limp at her sides, and her fingers nervously strum. She lets her bangs flop over her eye, and she stares at the ground, as her face reddens. The other person probably does most of the talking, as she nods or says the occasional, “Yeah.” If anyone happens to bring up why she isn't in school, or why she hangs around in alleys, she automatically bolts away in fear. One of her reasons for not liking to be around people is, when she is around others, she has to be who they want her to be, but when she is alone, she can truly be herself. When alone, Lark will probably be swinging her arms and humming a tune to herself, that or running around, dodging throughout the alleys and hoping over fallen trashcans. Running is the one thing that brings her joy, it's like she can bolt away and leave all the pain and sorrow in her life behind in the dust. Running also happens to be something she is very good at, from her years of practicing, she is expertly agile and has lots of stamina. Lark could probably maneuver the twists and turns of the alleys with her eyes closed. But what Lark gains in speed, she very much lacks in strength. Being basically skin and bones, she has no strength at all, except in her legs. Another thing that makes Lark very happy, the rain. Ever since she was small and her and her dad would go and splash around in puddles, she has had an attraction the rain. In a way, it reminds her of him, and of all the happy afternoons she would spend with her father outside as drops of water cascaded from the heavens. One thing that always seems to haunt Lark is flashbacks, vivid images and scenes from her childhood, from happy memories with her dad, to the day he was arrested, to the fights with her mom. They always seem to play over and over in her mind when she is at her most vulnerable. They flash behind her eyes, as she starts to stumble and fall, tears water-falling down her cheeks. She hates these flashbacks, just as much as she hates to cry. It makes her feel like a little child again, alone and helpless. Her childhood was not a pleasant thing, and re-living it is just monstrous. appearance. Lark is a very tall, very skinny teenager. She seems to get her height from her dad, and it's not like she is naturally underweight. Lark's family is high in debt with some very dangerous people, and so her mother has to pay them almost everything she earns, just with enough left over to pay the rent and a bit of running water for drinking and quick, every-other-day showers. Not enough to buy food, so this girl has resorted to mild thievery in order not to starve. But, she does not get near enough nutrition as she should, and so her weight is way below what it should be, and she is overly thin. From even first glance, Lark in an unusual character. The first thing people normally would notice is her height, then second right away is her hair. A medium shade of brown, cut very choppy and extremely layered. It lays about shoulder-length, give or take a bit. The most noticeable part of her hair though, has to be the large, choppy, clump of blue bangs that hangs over her left eye at all times. It always covers that left eyes, never pinned back, never pushed back. Just there, hiding a part of her, the way she likes it. Her hair is normally a bit tangled, for it is hard to get out numerous knots with an old, chipping comb. But at least it isn't always a birds-nest, or a greasy blob. The reason for the choppiness and layers in her hair, is because whenever needed, either Lark or her mother cuts her hair, but normally it is her. They have no extra money to pay for trips to the hair salon. Larks eyes, or one eye I should say, seeing as the other is never visible, are a medium-dark shade of brown. They would probably be described as the color of dark chocolate. Her eyes are normally reverted the ground when she is around other people, she gets very people-shy. When Lark is near crowded places, which rarely happens, her eyes dart around everywhere, getting a glance of everyone she possibly can, just to make sure that none of them are setting out for her. But when Lark is running, or in the rain, her eyes shine bright and happy, the few times when they show joy. Mostly, though, her eyes show years of pain and sorrow, dull and lifeless. As for clothes, Lark's wardrobe is very inexpensive. She practically wears the same outfit everyday, and the only cleaning they get is when either Lark is out in the rain or she gets a chance to scrub them under the sink. A navy blue tee is what she wears for a shirt, and the faded letters printed across the shirt say, “Fitch.” The irony is her family would never be able to afford something from a store like Abercrombie, the shirt was passed down to her mom by an old friend, who passed away. For pants, Lark wears dark gray, cloth sweatpants, not the silky ones. There are tears on her knees, from the many times she has fallen in the alleys she runs through. The pants that used to fall down and fold at her shoes, now only go to her ankles. The shoes Lark always wears are an old pair of gray Converse tennis shoes. Lark's skin tone is pale, earned from the many hours spent slinking along in the lone, covered alleyways. Also, strange enough, the area of New York in which she lives in hardly ever gets much sun. It always seems to be gloomy and cloudy, which in reality is the way everyone there seems to feel. Gloomy, like a large cloud has been blocking joys rays from reaching through. history. Lark was born to Lisa and Dylan Taylors in a small, normal home in Long Island, New York. She was their only child, and they had much fun for the first three years or her life. Lisa worked as a bank and Dylan seemed to be a stay-at-home dad, though he did bring in a fair amount of money somehow. Lark was always very attached to her father, but that was probably because he stayed home with her all day, then although she didn't know, went off during the night. Life was good, Lark had friends, their family lived in a nice neighborhood and was financially stable. But that all changed one horribly, memorable night. The night was calm, a mother picked up a young girl to set her gently on her bed. The girl giggled loudly and the mother gently tucked the girls stands of hair back. Suddenly, the silence was shattered by a horrible, low, piercing sound. A shrieking howl filled the air and a car door slamming echoed through the night. The mothers eyes got wide, and she set the child on the ground, running down the stairs as fast as her feet would carry her. Chocked sobs filled the downstairs, followed by some pleading and screaming. The little kid teetered to her legs and hobbled over to the edge of the stair. Shadows of three figures danced upon the walls, one bent over, her head in her hands. A tall shadow held his hands behind his back and shook his head in despair. “May I say goodbye to my daughter before I leave?” A gruff voice said. He was welcomed by a shove from the guy standing behind. “You can tell her all about what you've done while you're in prison, pal.” A younger voice sounded. The girl babbled a string of confused words, then tip-toed to the window, tugging on the curtains. She was just able to see over the window sill as a man in a blue suit pushed her father along, a pair of silver bracelets clamping her daddy's hands behind his back. The girls eyes widened and she let out a loud scream and started to cry. “No, no... Dada, dun' weave!” Her cries turned to screams as she desperately tugged on the curtains, howling for her father to return. Her beloved father was arrested for both drug-dealing and man-slaughter. He was sentenced to life in prison, never seeing his little girl or wife ever again. It turned out her dad was deep in his loans to many dangerous people, one specifically tracked him down, and in despair her father smashed his attackers skull with a crowbar. Problem is, her mother is now forced to pay off the loans her father once owned, leaving them in a horrible financial state, only enough money to pay rent and minor water bills while working three jobs. After two or three years, when Lark was around six, her father was arrested when she was three, her mother couldn't pay for their house or bills anymore, they no longer had electricity and were about to be ousted from the house, their family of two had to pack up and they moved away from Long Island to another and cheaper part of New York, unfortunately a bad part. They rented a tiny, three room apartment, the rooms consisting of a kitchen, a bathroom, and the main room, where an old, tearing couch is the only object to sleep on. Everyday, from age six to age twelve, Lark would wake up at five a.m. and walk at least a mile before hitting the bus stop, then she would go and sit in school for hours, being tormented by bigger, tougher kids. School was hell to her. The kids mocked her constantly, mocked her hair, how poor she was, and her mom who did nothing but work. Lark fell deeper and deeper into depression, she had no friends left, and she spoke only when spoken to. She learned to shrug the other kids off, and soon became known as the loner by everyone in the 7th grade. After months, she couldn't take it any longer. School didn't help her, the teachers were afraid of the kids, they did nothing to stop fights or bullying, Lark was failing, her highest grades were low D's. She never saw her mom, she was off working shift after shift at her three jobs, earning just enough to pay off the thugs and pay the bills for their run-down apartment. Every day Lark became more and more reserved, she started skipping school, days at a time, until she finally just stopped showing up. So basically, Lark dropped out of school in 7th grade. The good thing though, was that once she wasn't in school, Lark actually slowly became a bit happier at a time. She found out that she had a deep love for running, especially when it was raining. That became her savior, every time, everyday, she would spend hours after hours dashing through the twisted alleys of New York. They became her friends, the ones she could always depend on, the ones that would never leave, the only things in her life that she could truly count on to remain unchanging. The only bad thing about leaving school was that she also left her only source of food, the school actually paid for her lunch meal, seeing as her family couldn't. So now she was left without food, slowly starving with nothing to do about it, and if she turned herself in to some social services to get taken care of, they would snatch her from her mother, seeing as those living conditions were definitely not suitable for a mere kid. But who knows what her mom would do if she was too taken away? Suicide? Go mad? When her father was arrested, a hollow hole opened up inside of her mother, a place that could never again could be filled, and the only one who could temporally patch that hole was Lark. Even though she never saw her mom, there was no doubt that everything her mom did was for her, she loved her so much, even if they did get into many arguments. What Lark had to do was resert to stealing, her last choice of things to do. What she learned to do was casually walk by a food vendor selling something like fruit, snatch a piece, then take off running. If the merchants even noticed that they had been robbed, there was no way they could catch Lark's dashing figure. And with the streets as crowded as they were, the owners rarely got a good look at the thief. So her whole life, Lark has been toughing it out, but so far, she has managed. family. Mother- Lisa Taylors; 40 years old; works at Target, Subway, and Belk to get by. Father- Dylan Taylors; 42 years old; in prison. friends. None now. enemies. None now. love life. None. hobbies. Lark loves to run, as mentioned a few times above. She also likes to practice quietly with the track team. She knows something is up with this school, and so she is doing some exploring secretly to find out what's happening. extra. Uhh.. She has many flashbacks...? quote. Well, she doesn't say much, but if she does it will probably be a lot of, "Yeah"s and "Uhuh"s. [/style] |
