Post by clairebryants on Feb 25, 2012 19:08:38 GMT
claire leanne bryants
My love for you was bullet proof
but you're the one who shot me
[/center]age;; 21
gender;; Female
band you are affiliated with;; Injected Hopeless
position in band;; Photographer
sexuality;; Straight
play-by;; Candice Accola
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She's a hard worker...she can't help herself whenever she's needed for something. After all, she was raised by a mechanic who always needed help in the shop, so she was raised with work. However, if she doesn't like you, do not expect her to do a favor for you. She might be nice, but if she genuinely doesn't like someone or if they're a threat, she won't hesitate to turn them down. She's not confrontational with most people, but she has been in fights with one or two girls who pissed her off before. She can break a nose or two if she gets angry enough, and she's not afraid to protect herself or her friends. She's not a slut nor a stuck up brat, even though she looks like a Barbie at times. She's a Southern girl, born and raised around guys and taught to raise some hell in a good set of high heels. She'd rather go 4-wheeling and horseback riding than sleep around or go out clubbing.
She loves cars, motorcycles, alcohol, music, anything that can make her forget how crappy her life used to be...but her main focus is photography. There's just nothing like it. However, her biggest secret? She used to be an extremely talented and successful singer in New Orleans, before her family died. But she gave it up, stopped singing the day her last close family member was taken from her. And she hasn't played her own music since. The saddest part? Not one person on the tour knows who she used to be. And hopefully, they'll never find out.
likes;;
*Music
*Animals
*Guitars
*Beautiful cars and motorcycles
*Watching movies such as Monty Python and Mel Brooks classics
*Drinking (but not the hard stuff)
*Photography
*Jogging
*Shopping
dislikes;;
*Drugs
*Boys who don’t treat girls right
*Bugs
*Violence that reminds her of her parents
*Creepy stalkers
*Band sluts
*Rap music (she thinks those two words are oxymorons)
*The color pink
*Broccoli
*Nightmares
quirks and habits;;
*Bites her nails
*Wanders around a lot and is a bad daydreamer
*Has a certain spot in the pit every time she stands in the crowd
strengths;;
*Physically fit
*Fast and can run for extended periods of time
*Good with a camera
*Good at fixing cars, since her father used to teach her how to build cars
*Musically talented (secretly)
weaknesses;;
*Clumsy to a dangerous point
*Has vivid nightmares of her family members' murders at times
*Gets scared easily
*Can be a little hot headed and impulsive
*Hates feeling weak in front of others
*Has a slight drinking problem at times
fears;;
*Ending up like the rest of her family
*People will automatically judge her and hate her without knowing her.
*Clowns
*Roaches
goals;;
*Be a famous photographer
*Have the courage to sing on stage again
*Stop dwelling in the past
*Settle down in the future
history;; Claire was born to a musician mother and a loving, mechanic father. They all lived in New Orleans and were almost your normal, every day average family. Then, her parents took her to music lessons one day and found out she had a natural gift with music, especially singing and writing music. They enrolled her in the music school immediately, and she got to go almost every day to practice. She loved music because it gave her an outlet to express everything inside of her, both the good and the bad. Her parents couldn't be any prouder than when they saw her on a stage singing her heart out, especially her mother.
When her mother had her little brother Jacob, she couldn’t have been more thrilled to be a big sister. He grew to be more into the cliche boy stuff such as video games, sports, and army men, Claire was still more absorbed in the music aspect of the family. Though, they were still practically inseparable when it came to loving cars. She wanted an Aston Martin Vanquish and her little brother preferred Camaros. Her father owned a red Corvette, and she was taught at the age of 13 to fix cars like him. You need an engine repaired or a tune up? Claire's your girl.
When Claire was sixteen years old, she was performing at a small concert at the local House of Blues with her mom when she saw a man in the audience staring at her. She didn't think anything of it at first, maybe he was a fan and was just interested in the song. They left later that night, after an absolutely amazing performance that had started to give Claire a real name in music. Her father and Jacob met them outside since they had been in the audience to watch and give support. She saw that same man walking up to them with a gun in his hand. She heard her father tell her to leave, to run and don’t look back. That’s when she heard the gunshots. She heard so much pain and screaming all around her. She tried to turn but was knocked backwards as someone ran past her. When she came to and was able to sit up, her dad was kneeling at the bodies of her brother and mother, crying and yelling for someone to call 911. All she saw was blood, and she watched as her mother and little brother died before the ambulances could get there to save them.
Claire's father and she buried Jacob and Brianna a few days later, and her life has never been the same since. The police never caught the man responsible, and her dad would never tell her what had happened and who the murderer was. A month or two later, to make matters worse, Claire's father was in a state of depression and ODed on his pills, leaving his daughter to her careless uncle who cared more for money than for his niece. After that all happened, she didn't have the strength to continue her music. It's like her love and passion for it died with her parents.
She began to fall into photography and discovered that she was very good at it. So she invested some of her uncle's money into some of the nicest cameras on the market and began her life of photography. She got a job snapping photos for the band Injected Hopeless and heard they were heading on tour. She knew it would be the perfect opportunity to get out of her own personal Hell and do something with her life, make some money doing what she loves while being around music and a good group of talented guys. They've become her family, and she doesn't know what she'd do without this band and tour. Well, she'd probably be back with that ass of an uncle, downing a bottle of Jack, but she's trying not to think about the past anymore.
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age;; 21
what makes the world go 'round?;; lemon squish
roleplay sample;;
Ciara had never been so numb in her life. It was as though her entire body had been thrown into the Arctic and then left there because someone either forgot her or didn't care. It had been a week since everything happened, and the pain was unbearable to her. It was worse than when Jack had left for Boston, leaving her to alcohol and racing. This pain wasn't the reckless type of pain but instead the numbing pain that rips the heart open and feeds it to wild dogs.
"Let us commend Krysta O'Connell to the mercy of God." She barely heard the priest speak as she stared blankly at the black coffin in front of her. Her brothers stood around her, yet she felt no one. She saw nothing. Not her father clutching a Kleenex in one hand and his wedding ring in the other. Not her crying brothers who were crossing themselves and holding onto each other for support. She only felt numb.
However, when her father placed his hand on her shoulder, she shook herself as she stared into his heartbroken face and remembered she was truly there, surrounded by what was left of her family and friends. So she allowed the pain to come back and walked with the coffin, her lip quivering horribly and tears beginning to flow softly down her cheeks. They all stood around the grave as the coffin began to lower into the ground.
"We therefore commit her body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life." The priest finished speaking, prompting Ciara to look over at her father and hold his hand tightly. She let him go and watched as her brothers and father walked up to stand around the grave, dirt in their hands. They began to sprinkle it over the coffin of their mother, not bothering to hold back their grief as they told her goodbye. And then it was Ciara's turn.
The men backed away to let her through, and Ciara hesitated for a moment before swallowing past the lump in her throat and walking over to the grave. She bent down, took some dirt in her free hand, and sprinkled it slowly across the black surface of the coffin before taking each of the two red roses in her hand, kissing them, and throwing them on there as well.
"I love you Mom. So much. I miss you already...why? Why did you have to leave me?" Ciara knew her mother was one of the only ones in her family who truly understood her and her hatred of the feud. Her mother was the one who kept her father from losing himself to the violence and bloodshed. And now she was gone. Murdered by Don Mercutianato himself. Just thinking of it sent Ciara into her older brother Jonathan's chest, wrapping her arms around him and crying til her entire body hurt.
"Let us commend Krysta O'Connell to the mercy of God." She barely heard the priest speak as she stared blankly at the black coffin in front of her. Her brothers stood around her, yet she felt no one. She saw nothing. Not her father clutching a Kleenex in one hand and his wedding ring in the other. Not her crying brothers who were crossing themselves and holding onto each other for support. She only felt numb.
However, when her father placed his hand on her shoulder, she shook herself as she stared into his heartbroken face and remembered she was truly there, surrounded by what was left of her family and friends. So she allowed the pain to come back and walked with the coffin, her lip quivering horribly and tears beginning to flow softly down her cheeks. They all stood around the grave as the coffin began to lower into the ground.
"We therefore commit her body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life." The priest finished speaking, prompting Ciara to look over at her father and hold his hand tightly. She let him go and watched as her brothers and father walked up to stand around the grave, dirt in their hands. They began to sprinkle it over the coffin of their mother, not bothering to hold back their grief as they told her goodbye. And then it was Ciara's turn.
The men backed away to let her through, and Ciara hesitated for a moment before swallowing past the lump in her throat and walking over to the grave. She bent down, took some dirt in her free hand, and sprinkled it slowly across the black surface of the coffin before taking each of the two red roses in her hand, kissing them, and throwing them on there as well.
"I love you Mom. So much. I miss you already...why? Why did you have to leave me?" Ciara knew her mother was one of the only ones in her family who truly understood her and her hatred of the feud. Her mother was the one who kept her father from losing himself to the violence and bloodshed. And now she was gone. Murdered by Don Mercutianato himself. Just thinking of it sent Ciara into her older brother Jonathan's chest, wrapping her arms around him and crying til her entire body hurt.
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