Post by JoDee Belle Grant on May 20, 2007 18:54:08 GMT -5
Name: JoDee Belle Grant
Nicknames: Jo, J-Jo, Belle
Age: 16
Grade: Junior
Clique: Individual
Gender: Female
Actor/Actress/Model Used: Anne Hathaway
Hometown/Country: Preston, Pennsylvania, USA
Personality/Attitude:
I'd like to think I'm a pretty good person. But I also, however, like to be my own person, so a lot of people wouldn't exactly agree with that statement. I don't really like people though. I guess you wouldn't really say I don't like them. Its more that I don't trust them. Of course I have my select few that I let in, but they're all back home. Not here in this Hell-hole some people like to call a school. I wouldn't call myself a loner though. I talk to everyone, and I'm nice to just about everyone. Unless I don't like them. It doesn't take much for me to not like someone. I can get along with a lot of people because I know how to keep my opinions to myself when it's in my best interest. I don't choose sides. I know better. If someone goes after me though, that's a completely different situation. I'm not afraid to stand up for what I believe in, and I'll always stand up for myself.
I'm not perfect, and I'll admit it, unlike half the losers that go here. My life wasn't perfect and I'm not perfect. I get angry much too easily and I probably push people away a bit too much. I do get scared sometimes... okay, i get scared a lot, and when I can run away from my problems, I normally do. Also, I'm not exactly the most moral person on this earth. I have trouble staying with one guy for more than a few months at the most, and what I do with them has very few limits. You don't know how many times I've thought to myself, 'slut'. Only, I'm not a slut exactly. I've never gone all the way. I know, I've done almost everything else, so why should I wait? Honestly, I don't know why I wait. I just do. There's something about letting someone have that much of me that scares me. I just won't let something like that go to anyone. I realize that you're first time only happens once, and I don't want to ruin that.
I don't like to be loud. I don't like to bother people. It always bothers me when people are overly loud and obnoxious, so I try to avoid that myself. Okay, I guess I can be rather obnoxious at times, but I'm never loud. Overall, I guess I'm just a sixteen year old girl who is trying to be anything but normal. I see what most of the girls here do and I try to do the opposite. I don't want to be like them.
Likes:
-Writing
-Music
-Animals
-Horseback Riding
-Reading
-Fashion
-Guys
-My family
-Sports
Dislikes:
-People
-Bitches
-Smoking
-School
-Winter
Appearance:
I'm... normal looking, I guess. My eyes are pretty. I'll give myself that. They're chocolate brown, and I love them. Sometimes I'm tan, but for the most part I'm pretty pale. I have plain brown hair. Sometimes it curls a little bit. Sometimes it doesn't. I like to do fun things with my hair. I'm actually really into fashion, and hair, and looking good. I have my own style, yeah, but it looks good on me.
I like to wear plenty of different things. It really depends on my mood when I wake up in the morning. One day I may wear some kind of skater outfit, and then the next maybe something kind of preppy. I'm not really all that picky. A lot of times I'll even mix two "labels" together, almost as a statement, just to show that the two cliques can mix.
I don't really like labels. Actually, I don't at all, but in this school they're impossible to escape. I try though. I do everything I can to keep people from being able to label me. I want people to wonder about what clique I belong to. I want them to ask, "Hey, what is she?" and get the response, "You know what, I really don't know, but she's pretty nice," or "I don't know, but she's a bitch," or something of the like. I want them to have to judge my personality, not my appearance. And if they still don't like me, I'm not going to try and make them.
I'm pretty thin, I guess, but I wouldn't really say I have a great figure. I'm pretty curvy, but my thighs are big, so I always wear long pants like Jeans, and my stomach isn't completely flat. I'm nowhere near fat by any means, but I could still be a bit more fit around my stomach. I'm actually pretty in shape though. I guess you could say I have an athletic figure.
Picture:
Height: 5'4
Weight: 125 lbs
Relatives/Family:
-Melissa Grant-Mother
-Jared Grant-Father (deceased)
Occupation:
-Student
Background/History:
I was born on July 13. I wasn’t exactly… Okay, I was kind of an accident. My mom, Julia Brooks, wasn’t a bad woman. She was just a bit misunderstood. She was out drinking one night, had a tad too much, and, well, here I am. The man that screwed her over – I could never call him my father – left of course. I don’t even think he remembered who she was after that night. He was drunk too, probably. Or he was just an asshole. I’m willing to bet both.
Anyway, my mom had me on July 13, and she had every intention of keeping me. But she was poor, and she couldn’t provide much for me. She was always good to me though. When I was about seven, she went completely bankrupt, and right around that same time she was taken to court for an old debt she had never paid off. They deemed her incapable of raising a child, and they took me away from her, and placed me in a foster program.
I was adopted eventually by a young married couple: Melissa and Jared Grant. They lived in a cozy house that was pretty large and roomy. I missed my mother, but she came to see me every now and again, and I did like this new family they placed me with. I took their last name as my own, by my mother’s choice. She wanted me to have the chance to completely start anew. And I did. I went to a new school, met new people in my new neighborhood, and made a friend or two that, little did I know, would be there for life.
When I was about twelve, a new family moved in. They had children my age. They were twins; a boy and a girl. Lisa and Ryan became my best friends. I was a quiet girl, and they helped to bring me out of my shell a bit. They were the only people I ever trusted. I even ended up going out with Ryan. He was my first boyfriend, at fourteen, and he was the only one I never did anything unchristian with. They moved away when I was fifteen, but even now, when I need a kind friendly voice to help me through things, I’ll call Lisa. When I’m hurt and beating up on myself from yet another of my relationships that I took just a bit too far, I’ll call Ryan, and he’ll kindly offer to beat the jerk up for me.
My adopted parents became the best parents I ever had. They were even better than – though it makes me feel so guilty to even think it – my own mother. They weren’t rich, they didn’t spoil me, and they taught me some of the most important lessons life has to offer. I love them so much. Often, when I do something really wrong, like mess around with a guy, or drink, or anything else like that, I’ll think of how much I’m letting them down, and it really hurts me. But it seems the moment I’m done telling myself I’ll never do it again, I’ve already done it for the fifty-millionth time.
At fourteen, my parents enrolled me in Laurent High School, and I’ve been stuck in this place for two, almost three years. I hate it. The only class I like is English. I love writing. I don’t trust people, but I always trust my writing. It’s how I cope with things. A piece of paper can’t and won’t go telling all my secrets. My stories, which often portray what my mood is at the time, go exactly as I tell them to. I know how they’re going to end. The only thing I can really change is how my characters get to the ending I’ve chosen for each of them.
Now I’m a junior at Laurent, and I’m sure this year will be the same as all the others. Except now I’m an upper classmen. Yippy… yeah, I don’t think much will change. It never does. But I guess we’ll see.
Canon or Custom?Custom
Timezone:Eastern
Sample RP:
The warm, sweltering sun beat down on the hot asphalt. A cool breeze attempted to make its way through the neat little neighborhood, but it never seemed to succeed. There were chalk drawings all over the bumpy black roads, made by the little children that lived in the houses on either side. There were no sidewalks to draw on, so they used the roads. Cars rarely drove on these roads anyway. The whole length of the street was filled with pictures. Flowers, trees, rainbows, footballs, hopscotch games, and the like were scattered everywhere.
JoDee Grant loved to look at these drawings. Some of the things the kids on her street came up with were insane. She laughed out loud at one of the drawings and bent down to get a closer look. Two little stick figures were throwing some kind of yellow fruit at a pig. She never knew what the stories were behind these random drawings, but she liked to look at them. There was never anything better to do.
She wasn’t like any fourteen year old girl you might meet. She was deep and intellectual, but never dramatic. She thought about things. She liked to try and figure out what the kids were thinking about when they drew these pictures that would most likely get washed away in the rain the next day. She stood back up and scanned the rest of the pictures, taking a particular interest in one or two.
She drew in a quick breath and jumped a bit as she felt someone touch her from behind, but relaxed quickly as a pair of familiar arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. She felt a brush of someone’s lips to her neck, and she tilted her head a bit to the side to allow Ryan more access. He placed another kiss on her shoulder, which was bare, save for the two thin straps that belonged to her bra and her shirt.
She turned around in his arms and planted a kiss on his lips, smiling into the kiss as she felt his lips move against hers, and obliging when his tongue attempted to slip into her mouth. She pulled away after a few moments and lay her head on his chest, amazed that he was hers. He was so amazing, and he was hers.
Nicknames: Jo, J-Jo, Belle
Age: 16
Grade: Junior
Clique: Individual
Gender: Female
Actor/Actress/Model Used: Anne Hathaway
Hometown/Country: Preston, Pennsylvania, USA
Personality/Attitude:
I'd like to think I'm a pretty good person. But I also, however, like to be my own person, so a lot of people wouldn't exactly agree with that statement. I don't really like people though. I guess you wouldn't really say I don't like them. Its more that I don't trust them. Of course I have my select few that I let in, but they're all back home. Not here in this Hell-hole some people like to call a school. I wouldn't call myself a loner though. I talk to everyone, and I'm nice to just about everyone. Unless I don't like them. It doesn't take much for me to not like someone. I can get along with a lot of people because I know how to keep my opinions to myself when it's in my best interest. I don't choose sides. I know better. If someone goes after me though, that's a completely different situation. I'm not afraid to stand up for what I believe in, and I'll always stand up for myself.
I'm not perfect, and I'll admit it, unlike half the losers that go here. My life wasn't perfect and I'm not perfect. I get angry much too easily and I probably push people away a bit too much. I do get scared sometimes... okay, i get scared a lot, and when I can run away from my problems, I normally do. Also, I'm not exactly the most moral person on this earth. I have trouble staying with one guy for more than a few months at the most, and what I do with them has very few limits. You don't know how many times I've thought to myself, 'slut'. Only, I'm not a slut exactly. I've never gone all the way. I know, I've done almost everything else, so why should I wait? Honestly, I don't know why I wait. I just do. There's something about letting someone have that much of me that scares me. I just won't let something like that go to anyone. I realize that you're first time only happens once, and I don't want to ruin that.
I don't like to be loud. I don't like to bother people. It always bothers me when people are overly loud and obnoxious, so I try to avoid that myself. Okay, I guess I can be rather obnoxious at times, but I'm never loud. Overall, I guess I'm just a sixteen year old girl who is trying to be anything but normal. I see what most of the girls here do and I try to do the opposite. I don't want to be like them.
Likes:
-Writing
-Music
-Animals
-Horseback Riding
-Reading
-Fashion
-Guys
-My family
-Sports
Dislikes:
-People
-Bitches
-Smoking
-School
-Winter
Appearance:
I'm... normal looking, I guess. My eyes are pretty. I'll give myself that. They're chocolate brown, and I love them. Sometimes I'm tan, but for the most part I'm pretty pale. I have plain brown hair. Sometimes it curls a little bit. Sometimes it doesn't. I like to do fun things with my hair. I'm actually really into fashion, and hair, and looking good. I have my own style, yeah, but it looks good on me.
I like to wear plenty of different things. It really depends on my mood when I wake up in the morning. One day I may wear some kind of skater outfit, and then the next maybe something kind of preppy. I'm not really all that picky. A lot of times I'll even mix two "labels" together, almost as a statement, just to show that the two cliques can mix.
I don't really like labels. Actually, I don't at all, but in this school they're impossible to escape. I try though. I do everything I can to keep people from being able to label me. I want people to wonder about what clique I belong to. I want them to ask, "Hey, what is she?" and get the response, "You know what, I really don't know, but she's pretty nice," or "I don't know, but she's a bitch," or something of the like. I want them to have to judge my personality, not my appearance. And if they still don't like me, I'm not going to try and make them.
I'm pretty thin, I guess, but I wouldn't really say I have a great figure. I'm pretty curvy, but my thighs are big, so I always wear long pants like Jeans, and my stomach isn't completely flat. I'm nowhere near fat by any means, but I could still be a bit more fit around my stomach. I'm actually pretty in shape though. I guess you could say I have an athletic figure.
Picture:
Height: 5'4
Weight: 125 lbs
Relatives/Family:
-Melissa Grant-Mother
-Jared Grant-Father (deceased)
Occupation:
-Student
Background/History:
I was born on July 13. I wasn’t exactly… Okay, I was kind of an accident. My mom, Julia Brooks, wasn’t a bad woman. She was just a bit misunderstood. She was out drinking one night, had a tad too much, and, well, here I am. The man that screwed her over – I could never call him my father – left of course. I don’t even think he remembered who she was after that night. He was drunk too, probably. Or he was just an asshole. I’m willing to bet both.
Anyway, my mom had me on July 13, and she had every intention of keeping me. But she was poor, and she couldn’t provide much for me. She was always good to me though. When I was about seven, she went completely bankrupt, and right around that same time she was taken to court for an old debt she had never paid off. They deemed her incapable of raising a child, and they took me away from her, and placed me in a foster program.
I was adopted eventually by a young married couple: Melissa and Jared Grant. They lived in a cozy house that was pretty large and roomy. I missed my mother, but she came to see me every now and again, and I did like this new family they placed me with. I took their last name as my own, by my mother’s choice. She wanted me to have the chance to completely start anew. And I did. I went to a new school, met new people in my new neighborhood, and made a friend or two that, little did I know, would be there for life.
When I was about twelve, a new family moved in. They had children my age. They were twins; a boy and a girl. Lisa and Ryan became my best friends. I was a quiet girl, and they helped to bring me out of my shell a bit. They were the only people I ever trusted. I even ended up going out with Ryan. He was my first boyfriend, at fourteen, and he was the only one I never did anything unchristian with. They moved away when I was fifteen, but even now, when I need a kind friendly voice to help me through things, I’ll call Lisa. When I’m hurt and beating up on myself from yet another of my relationships that I took just a bit too far, I’ll call Ryan, and he’ll kindly offer to beat the jerk up for me.
My adopted parents became the best parents I ever had. They were even better than – though it makes me feel so guilty to even think it – my own mother. They weren’t rich, they didn’t spoil me, and they taught me some of the most important lessons life has to offer. I love them so much. Often, when I do something really wrong, like mess around with a guy, or drink, or anything else like that, I’ll think of how much I’m letting them down, and it really hurts me. But it seems the moment I’m done telling myself I’ll never do it again, I’ve already done it for the fifty-millionth time.
At fourteen, my parents enrolled me in Laurent High School, and I’ve been stuck in this place for two, almost three years. I hate it. The only class I like is English. I love writing. I don’t trust people, but I always trust my writing. It’s how I cope with things. A piece of paper can’t and won’t go telling all my secrets. My stories, which often portray what my mood is at the time, go exactly as I tell them to. I know how they’re going to end. The only thing I can really change is how my characters get to the ending I’ve chosen for each of them.
Now I’m a junior at Laurent, and I’m sure this year will be the same as all the others. Except now I’m an upper classmen. Yippy… yeah, I don’t think much will change. It never does. But I guess we’ll see.
Canon or Custom?Custom
Timezone:Eastern
Sample RP:
The warm, sweltering sun beat down on the hot asphalt. A cool breeze attempted to make its way through the neat little neighborhood, but it never seemed to succeed. There were chalk drawings all over the bumpy black roads, made by the little children that lived in the houses on either side. There were no sidewalks to draw on, so they used the roads. Cars rarely drove on these roads anyway. The whole length of the street was filled with pictures. Flowers, trees, rainbows, footballs, hopscotch games, and the like were scattered everywhere.
JoDee Grant loved to look at these drawings. Some of the things the kids on her street came up with were insane. She laughed out loud at one of the drawings and bent down to get a closer look. Two little stick figures were throwing some kind of yellow fruit at a pig. She never knew what the stories were behind these random drawings, but she liked to look at them. There was never anything better to do.
She wasn’t like any fourteen year old girl you might meet. She was deep and intellectual, but never dramatic. She thought about things. She liked to try and figure out what the kids were thinking about when they drew these pictures that would most likely get washed away in the rain the next day. She stood back up and scanned the rest of the pictures, taking a particular interest in one or two.
She drew in a quick breath and jumped a bit as she felt someone touch her from behind, but relaxed quickly as a pair of familiar arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. She felt a brush of someone’s lips to her neck, and she tilted her head a bit to the side to allow Ryan more access. He placed another kiss on her shoulder, which was bare, save for the two thin straps that belonged to her bra and her shirt.
She turned around in his arms and planted a kiss on his lips, smiling into the kiss as she felt his lips move against hers, and obliging when his tongue attempted to slip into her mouth. She pulled away after a few moments and lay her head on his chest, amazed that he was hers. He was so amazing, and he was hers.
