Post by tegan laure corrine! on Mar 12, 2007 14:41:16 GMT -5
NAME:
Tegan Laure Corrine. (tea-gan lour core-in.)
AGE:
Nineteen.
GENDER:
Female.
DESCRIPTION:
Standing at exactly six foot with flaming red hair, porcelain skin covered in freckles, and not to mention shocking blue eyes, Tegan Laure Corrine certainly attracts some attention when walking down the street. Being overly tall for her gender and age, plus having such a contrasting colors for her features, she grew used to people complimenting her for such natural beauty, but never let it make her head too big. Speaking of the female’s head, Tegan’s locks are something she takes great pride in; particularly the color of her hair, often boasting that she’s never even touched a box of hair dye. Those malicious chemicals would not only take away from her unique, shocking shade, but they would also damage the practically faultless, natural volume and texture she has. But unlike her color, hairstyles for the girl have been around the block and back. It certainly isn’t surprising to see her hair in tight, loose, or average sized curls, or to see her tresses bone straight. But if Tegan is feeling sluggish and can’t be bothered with styling or curling or straightening or teasing, her thick hair simply hangs down to the middle of her back, slightly wavy.
Tegan’s eyes are as shocking as her rare hair color. If it weren’t for the gray shade lightening up the color, her eyes would almost be considered a deep navy blue; the psychical shape of her eyes being a ‘standard’ almond shape, with heavy lids. As far as skin tones go, Tegan’s is without doubt one of the palest you’ve ever seen. Odd enough, since she now resides in the Bahamas, the girl simply can’t tan. Luckily, she doesn’t care much if her skin deepens or not; she likes her smooth, freckled skin just the way it is.
For makeup, Tegan absolutely loves to play around with it. She may even consider becoming a makeup artist further on in her life, but that’s something completely different. Everyday is like a special occasion when it comes to cosmetics- sometimes going very neutral with coffees and deep mahogany shades, and other times making things a little more exciting with vivid, divergent purples and greens. Mainly she keeps these colors on the eyes, and instead mainly sticks with more neutral tones for her lips and cheeks, only on occasions playing up her soft, full lips.
Fashion is one of the subjects that Tegan is mildly engrossed in, her style being a wide range of anything and everything. Mainly, an everyday ‘uniform’ for her consists of skinny jeans or shorts, an unexpected blouse or shirt (either with charming stripes, hearts and dots, or bohemian and relaxed), easy-going sandals or flats, and last but not least accessories. Tegan simply cannot live without at least one form of decoration hanging from her body at all times- whether its vintage rings or necklaces, large sunglasses, oversized purses, or bangles of all sorts. One might say that her style can be anything from delightful, intense, and energized to stress-free, blasé, and natural.
PERSONALITY:
Annoying and outgoing, Tegan could talk your ear off or just tell you to get the hell away from her. It all depends on how she's feeling at the moment- sarcastic, manic, temperamental or jovial, she always has something to say. Some may think her main goal in life is to say at least three words to every person within an eight-mile radius before she croaks, but really she just speaks her mind. Mostly when greeting someone new, she’ll start out the conversation by complimenting them- only if there’s something to praise him or her on, though.
With men she has a weakness for, she’ll do anything to make them her own, even if it means cheating. If she gets bored with one guy, she’ll move onto another- plain and simple, sometimes giving warning she’s dumping them, and other times just letting them find out the hard way. But that certainly doesn't mean Tegan sleeps around- unless she happens to be very intoxicated and very disoriented. She's careful with who she's seen with, as she was always raised around people of the highest rankings. It takes a whole lot to blow Tegan away the first time when meeting someone, as she’s always had high expectations. No number is the greatest, for there’s always one higher. No record is the best, for there’s always one that breaks it. No world is the largest, because there’s always got to be something more massive then it.
Tegan has a big adoration with partying and having a good time. But of course, it takes a whole lot of sweat into making your party good enough for Tegan’s grading system. Every beat of the music has to be ideal, every sip of the punch faultless. The female also is very stubborn. It’s her way or the high way, and she’ll only make exceptions for the absolute finest of her friends.
As far as hobbies go, Tegan doesn’t have much. Occasionally she’ll pick up a paintbrush or camera and do something artistic, but what she’s really interested in are books, computers, and writing. She’s started on several novels of her own, but they almost always fail. Either she’ll a) get too fed up with the plot, b) not even have a plot, or c) loose the notebook at some random restaurant or unintentionally drop the writings in the ocean. Letter C tends to happen a lot, minus the accidentalness of it all. If she does continue on with a story, or at least till chapter eight, most of her inspiration comes from previous books she had read. She’s a big fan of Stephenie Meyer and Anne Rice, having a strange fascination with the undead. Her interest in computers isn’t much; she enjoys creating things on Photoshop and keeps a blog online, at WordPress. Then of course there’s Myspace- who doesn’t have one? An occasional Sims 2 game if she’s without a book to read, no muse to write, no party to crash, or body around to entertain her.
HISTORY:
It’s not your typical story of how a child came into the world…well, at least nowadays its not so regular. And for one effortless reason- the parents of Tegan Laure Corrine actually were in love. Yes, yes, shocking and honestly quite tedious to hear that Elle Jay Morise and Seth Thayer Corrine weren’t drunken adolescents at a party, but instead were happily married and well into their twenties when Tegan Laure took her first breath.
Elle and Seth were twenty-five the moment Tegan was born, and the moment Tegan was born, she became their whole life. April 25th became a massive festival of joy for the next years of Tegan’s childhood; never was it just the average ‘birthday party’ with a few friends and family. Because of Seth’s well paying profession as a well respected plastic surgeon, the tiny family unit could afford top notch birthday celebrations, with immense, fancy dinner plates and elegant silverware, the most divine treats and gifts any child could ever imagine. It only made sense that the family never had to worry much about bankruptcy, bills, or any of the sort. Tegan grew up well in the city known as Beverly Hills, getting all the finest education and possessions, befriending all the right people and knowing the life of the elite. Basically, what it all comes down to is that Tegan Laure Corrine had an awfully superior childhood, which some may even refer to as spoiled. Either way, she was very well trusted, respected, and generally well thought of and spoken to- well, to most adults anyway.
By age eighteen, Beverly Hills was starting to get...unexciting, it possible. The lights were becoming duller, the people less diverse and snobby, and the sun less bright. Everything about her hometown was becoming surprisingly dreary to the female. So it was only expected, that with her smart charm, exotic looks, and respected persona that Tegan would get her way; and her way was the Bahamas.
Just as everyone knew it would unfold, Tegan was soon on a plane to the sunny getaway, getting a head start on her live as an individual, no longer being slightly overshadowed by those significant adults from her childhood. Now, she could be the ‘annoying and outgoing’ person she truly was, without having such a predictable and obligatory reputation to live up to. Now, she could be herself, no more watchful eyes and authority figures to stop her.
MODEL:
Cintia Dicker.
Cintia Dicker.
SAMPLE POST:
[/sup][/center]"Would you like some tea, Miss Gredler?" The White Rabbit questioned a girl with black shards of hair, clothed in a sky blue and cream dress. Before she could reply, the rabbit glanced at his watch in horror. "I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date!" And without another word or action, he melted into the ground, a puddle of white and tuxedo jackets. But the puddle turned hues of purple and pink, and was shaped again into a Cheshire Cat. It's eerie, mesmerizing eyes stared deeply into Tarin's soul, but once again it was gone in a melted mass of confusion and amethyst before the girl could react. The lilac and disorientation quickly became a heart, a playing card, a Queen. The Queen of Hearts shrieked at Tarin's petrified expression; "Off with her head!" She ordered, and millions of Tarin Clones appeared from the sky, sauntering up and closing in on her with spears and guns to kill her.
Tarin Marie Gredler awoke with a sharp, piercing scream of terror in her miniature apartment in Manhattan. Twisting and entangling herself in a mass of blue and white blankets and sheets, which, in a sinister way, matched the blue and white dress from her night terror. It took her a few moments of screaming and shaking to realize that it was only a dream, and outside her window was the smog filled, Saturday morning air that one could only find in Manhattan. This was not an illusion, this was reality. There were no monsters outside her window today.
Breathing heavily and rubbing her forehead and eyes, it took the girl who was resting her shoulders against a bright pink pillow a minute to actually open her eyes. Wincing against the strong beams of sunlight flooding into her room, she groaned, the feeling of fear still deeply inked into her mind and bones. Kicking the knotted mess of cotton blankets down to the end of the bed, Tarin slowly forced one aching leg after the other off of the bed and onto the floor, eventually standing up.
Immediately, she was greeted by her 5' 11", slender and slightly pale frame in her full length mirror. Her towering body was covered not in a sky blue and cream dress, but instead a form fitting white tank top and tiny zebra print shorts, dark lace running around the edges of the clothing item. As she brought a bony hand up to scratch her head lazily, she noticed she had forgotten to take out the two bobby pins that she had placed in her layered hair yesterday. Too lazy to care about the open window on the other side of her bed, Tarin sluggishly stripped off the items of clothing and pulled on a black, triangle bikini top. The plans she had made last night for today's sunny morning involved heading down to the pier, maybe writing a bit or studying, but who knows what she would get done with that nightmare fresh in her mind. Completing her outfit by slipping into the infamous bright, sea foam, and skintight jeans, she grabbed a black quilted tote and threw a textbook or two in, along with several pencils and a lime green notebook; not even caring to rid her face of yesterday's smudged eyeliner as she walked out the door.
It was only a few minutes to the beach and it's pier, but the time was cut in half by Tarin's mile long legs. The sun beating down on her neck and face as she walked, almost halfway to the pier by now; the sun and fresh air had seemed to have given her fresh energy. With each step, the heavy books in her large, quilted and black bag hit the side of Tarin's hip; reminding her that as soon as she got to the pier, she could bury herself in facts and history, numbers and rules of punctuation, which would eventually distract her from her nightmare.
She didn't know why this particular midnight terror had her so frightened and confused. In fact, all she did know was that she had a burning need to determine the reason of it all. Why the blue and white dress, why the Cheshire cat, why the rabbit who was always, always late? These questions tugged and ripped at Tarin's mind, and before the girl knew it she was standing at the edge of the pier, looking down into the ocean's bright and complex waters. A few more minutes of questioning her dream, and Tarin couldn't take it anymore. Waking up from her thoughts and pushing herself back to the world titled 'reality', Tarin shook her head and banned her mind from thinking about the dream. As she slowly lowered herself onto her stomach, propping herself up with her elbows and pulling out a textbook, the sudden sight of the school book surprised her with a feeling of dislike. Of course, she still wanted to ponder over her nightmare, yada yada yada. But she also had told herself that she needed to study, needed to write...and of course she wasn't hoping for a distraction to come along.
