walsh, isabelle

[ISABELLE LEIGH WALSH]

isabelle leigh walsh!

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Iz is joining us from Chicago, Illinois. this sixteen year old is going to celebrate her next birthday on November thirteenth. she usually very creative, optimistic, compassionate, and is really quite good at dancing. their problem is with her mother and her past. tsk tsk. welcome to walk like a gentleman, hun.

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full name: Isabelle Leigh Walsh
celeb face: Leighton Meester
member group: high school student
age: sixteen
likes: dancing, coffee, her aunt and uncle, writing short stories, and music
dislikes: her mother, prostitution, being yelled at, snow, and being close to people.

personality:

Given the past that Isabelle was forced to lead, you’d think she’d be quite different than how she turned out. She’s always been a very imaginative person and loves to creative up new dance moves and even short stories but she doesn’t like showing them off to people. She’s very self-conscious about herself and doesn’t like getting close to people because she thinks they’ll use her and make her do something bad and or dirty. Though she doesn’t like being close to people she is a very amiable person and can strike up a conversation with just about anyone is given the will to do so. She’s very compassionate and loves to help others even though she sometimes should be the one receiving help. She’s very optimistic about life and loves to put a smile on for other people. Though she seems like the happy type of person when she’s alone the real part of her come alive. She’s really only half a person because of what her mother did to her and she doesn’t like to share it with anyone. She can sometimes be a quiet little mouse is frightened or reminded of her past and once she’s like that, it takes a lot of time to calm her down. So basically in front of the open she’s your typical sixteen year old smiley and giddy girl, but behind walls she’s just broken and terrified.

history:

Isabelle was born an only child to the Walsh name. Her mother had always been a lone wolf and her father had just been a random guy from a bar whose number she never got. So growing up Isabelle only had the support of her mother, and even that wasn’t much to begin with. Most of her adolescent life was spent alone in daycares while he mother went off and adventured at local bars and clubs with men whom just wanted a one night stand. Being stuck in daycare all the time left Isabelle to have hours of time to imagine a world that was completely different than the one she was stuck in and she liked being in her dream world as much as possible. At the age of seven her mother signed her up for just about every activity she could find and one of them was dance. Isabelle was a natural at it. She always out danced the other girls and got retunes down in one class. Since she was always left alone she had even more time to get the beats down with her steps. By the age of ten Isabelle was trying to compete in just about every dance challenge she could find. She did ballet, hip-hop, even improv. It didn’t matter what she was doing as long as she was dancing. Dance was her life for four long years until her mother decided that she needed to get a job. Isabelle didn’t understand what she meant. What eleven year old could get a legal job that made an actual salary? Turned out by job her mother meant putting her daughter up for other guys to see and take advantage of. At first Isabelle rebelled and even threatened to run away from home and every time she even tried her mother beat her silly. So she did what her mother told her to and lost herself in the process. Night after night Isabelle lost another little piece of herself. This lasted for just over three years. When she was fourteen her aunt and uncle came over for a surprise visit and found out what Isabelle’s mother had been doing to her. After a year full of legal battles, Isabelle was allowed to move away with her aunt and uncle. It has now been a year away from her mother and Isabelle seems just fine. She’s happy and loves being with her aunt and uncle. She’s away from the sex, the drugs, and every other nasty thing about protection and she can’t be any happier about it. At least, that’s what her new guardians think.

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hello! my name is Clair! and i'm excited to be here. i've been roleplaying for about seven years years now. other characters on this site that belong to me are none.. my time zone is central. and that's all you need to know about me! oh, and this is what an average post for me looks like:

There was nothing more pathetic than a drunken blond girl beating on someone’s door in the middle of the night. Seriously, it was. A year ago she would have looked down at herself and would brush it off as nothing. She would have never been like this if it wasn’t for the death of her one true love. Without him she found no reason to live, or to keep going to school, or to even care about her appearance. She was a nothing anyway. All she ever did was drink and do drugs now. That was a nobody and it was all Jeremiah’s fault. That bastard had to leave her all alone in the world and now she was nothing because of it. She wanted to much to hate him and kicked at his grave stone, but every time she even attempted to even step foot in the cemetery he was buried in she felt an overwhelming sadness and ended up in the nearest bar trying not to cry. She had learned months ago that crying in bars just attracted too much attention, not to mention it got one kicked out of a bar faster than it took to down a shot. It had only happened a few times, but it was embarrassing. It wasn’t something you’d tell friends or anyone as a matter of fact. Not even a physiatrist.

Everything was just completely fucked up for Emilie. She couldn’t keep up with school so she just gave up. All her hard work was flushed down the toilet. Her drinking and erratic behavior was killing her body slowly. She’d end up partying all night with random guys, and woke up in new random places. Then she’d spend half the morning throwing up and would then starve herself the rest of the night. Her own mother couldn’t even look at her anymore. Her precious mother, who was her best friend – her everything, couldn’t stand her own little girl. Her mother had actually kicked her out of the house and told her she couldn’t come back until she had her little Emilie back. Too bad her mother didn’t know little Emilie was never coming back. She died and no amount of therapy, rehab, and love could bring her back. It was a sad truth her mother would never come to understand, Emilie on the other hand got it. What made matters worse was that sometimes Emilie couldn’t even look at herself. She was disgusted by the blond thing she saw in the mirror. Her eyes looked hollow, her face a paler color of what it once was. The flush in her cheeks was nowhere to be found and most of the time her cheeks were run with black eyeliner from crying so much, not to mention her eyes would be puffy and red. She was no longer the beautiful girl she had once been when she first came to college. She was something of a monster. It was why every mirror in her little apartment was either broken or covered with some sort of towel. She didn’t want to see that ugly thing looking back at her. She was sure if she had to stare at it for a moment longer she’d break.

It was a surprise she hadn’t killed herself yet. She had tried many a time, but success never came. She might have been depressed and willing to die but she was still afraid of the mystery that surrounded death. But really, who wasn’t afraid of dying? She was sure that with her current use of drugs and wild party hours she’d be gone in no time. It was a gruesome and morbid thought but it was really the only thing that could get Emilie through the days. If she kept being reckless she’d someday end up with Jeremiah not just mentally, but physically. And if there was a heaven, or a hell, maybe she’d find him? She doubted that a nice person like Jeremiah would end up in hell. She was destined for it with her behavior. No angel had suicidal tendencies, drank, did drugs, or slept with countless men whom she let beat her around. If anything she was lucky if she ended up in the lighter levels of hell. What did she know? Maybe there wasn’t a heaven or a hell, maybe you just stopped existing and that’s that.

The hopeful smile played at the corners of Emilie’s lips as she heard soft footsteps make their way to the front door. Oh thank god, he’s there. Now all she had to do was get inside and get him undress and she’d be okay for at least an hour. He probably didn’t even want her here though. They always met in alleyways, or some other dark place and then they’d go to her house. Why that was the routine, she didn’t know but that didn’t mean she wasn’t okay with it. As long as she had him for a little while she didn’t care where they were. They could be in a fucking tree for all she cared, but she was sure it’d be very uncomfortable and awkward, not to mention cold if it was chilly outside. She had a feeling that he didn’t want to be seen in public with her. Well, who would want to? She was pathetic and much younger than him. He was probably embarrassed that he was having sex with her. Well wasn’t that pretty much a punch to the face? It would have if she actually liked him or something. She just liked having him around. He was the closest thing she had to Jeremiah right now and she’d keep him for as long as she could.

Once the door was open the smile on Emilie’s lips pulled up into a slightly larger smile. “Josh.” She breathed out, taking a step away from the door with a slightly stumble. She caught herself and looked up at him. She pushed a few strands of misplaced blond hair out of her face and tucked them behind her ear. She felt herself ‘eep’ as Josh grabbed her arm and pulled her into his home. She barely took notice of his nervous glance around before he pulled her in, probably worried that someone saw the drunken girl begging to get into his home. She pulled her arm away from his grip and looked up at him with a hard look. “Sooo?” She mumbled, her eyes dragging down his naked body. She was so lucky she came when she did. It would make the stripping part of sex much, much easier. She looked back up at him, her lip caught between hr pearly white teeth. “I see you dressed fer the occasion?” her drunken words slurred as she took a step closer to him. Her hands gently rested on his chest, feeling his smooth rock-like body under her frail fingertips. A low hum left her lips as she allowed her fingers to glide down to his chest but she stopped at the towel and looked up at him, a curious expression played at her delicate features. She only hoped he was willing to play a little game, because just seeing him half naked was driving her wild.

^{this was made by THE ONLY EXCEPTION ! at caution. do not remove this or
i'll have to send my thousand ninjas after you.}