Post by LUCY "KITTY" HARRIS on Jul 6, 2010 7:36:17 GMT -5
Hi, my name is Alex and this is my first character. I found this site through an ad on another forum. Something you should know about me is that I am a fiend for muffins. Seriously. It’s relatively disturbing.
Canon:“Jekyll & Hyde” (Musical) adapted from “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” by Robert Louis Stevenson
Custom Title: The Amorous Harlot
PHYSICAL
Age: Unknown (Looks to be in her early twenties)
Gender: Female
Appearance: Medium-height brunette with a delicately chiseled jaw, one so defined to still be considered feminine. Has a very light olive complexion with a subtle rose flush perched atop high cheekbones. Her hair is usually styled in messy waves that hang loosely past her shoulders.
Height: 5’5
Body: Slender
Other distinguishing features: An elongated, raised and bumpy scar extending across the length of the right side of her head, situated prominently where the temporal lobe can be found. Though it is covered by the hair that has grown over the scar, it can still be felt. Completely contradicting her sultry appearance and questionable profession, her broad smile can be described as saccharine and amiable.
Wardrobe: Characteristic of a “lady of the evening”, she is almost always sporting attire that makes the elitist and otherwise supercilious portion of society turn their noses upwards to her. Utilizing a provocative and slightly disheveled sense of style, her closet is comprised of mainly titillating skirts, enticing shirts that leave just enough to the imagination, and an assortment of high-heels.
[/ul]Play By: Rachel McAdams
PERSONALITY
General personality: She is a young woman toughened and curiously softened by the harsh realities of life. Upon first meeting, her visage of street-wise temptress is fully intact. Wisecracking and prone to spouting lascivious obscenities, she can often be received as slightly endearing in her own vulgar way. Unbeknownst to most, however, her initial blasé attitude and exaggerated bravado act as her subterfuge. “Misdirection”, she refers to it as.
Her pronounced boldness and offending promiscuity generally serve as effective distractions from the damaged woman that lies beneath the veil of falsities. When not under the intense scrutiny of Spider and her fellow streetwalkers, she tends to harbor a more introverted personality. Wistful, slightly testy when frustrated, and habitually inattentive, her actual self is significantly different from the caricature that she purports. She is generally tenderhearted and sweet-natured, despite having every reason not to be. The hooker with the heart of gold, if you will, who aspires for nothing more than the truth.
Likes:
Dislikes:
Strengths: Her “acidic” charm, knowledge of the NYC prostitution and drug underground, her sociability, easygoing attitude, her generally truthful nature, discreetness
Weaknesses: Her intense fatalism, naivety in regards to personal connections, her inability to cope effectively with any sudden changes in her life, severe trust issues, her hazy past, men who impose their authority on her
BACKGROUND
Family: Unknown
Education: High School dropout (As far as she knows)
Occupation: Prostitute and occasional drug runner
Worst past experience: An accident, later determined to be vehicular, in which she lost all of her memories prior to the wreck.
Best past experience: The warped comfort and affection that Spider provided for her following the accident.
History: Her story is one with several, nearly the entirety, of the pages either missing, destroyed, or smeared beyond all comprehension. In order to make some feeble sense of the entire fiasco, one must start from the beginning and work their way to present day. The issue in this case would be the obscure beginnings of the woman in question. This tragic tale does not follow conventional structure in the sense that its middle is its beginning.
The night of July 16, 2008 found a young woman wandering through the streets of The Bronx in a catatonic daze. It is not certain just how long she had been limping about aimlessly or how far she had managed to travel away from the wreckage before someone noticed her bleeding wounds and escorted her to the nearest hospital. Unfortunately, as she would find out in due time, her escort did not necessarily have her best interests at heart. The first lesson she would ever learn after her accident would also be the harshest.
Waking up in an unfamiliar situation is intensely unsettling. Waking up in a hospital with no recollection of how you wound up there or who you even are is downright terrifying. Once she had gained actual consciousness, a wave of insurmountable fear crashed down upon her that seemingly crushed her already fractured ribs and life into millions of irretrievable pieces. When the supervising, and admittedly negligent, doctor prodded her for answers that might help to piece together the puzzle that was beginning to become her life, she could offer no assistance. The only person that was providing answers was someone that she, even in her enervated state, questioned the validity of his responses. Her chief impression of the stranger who was bursting with answers was that he looked like a shady character and one not to be trusted. Since he was the only person, however, supplying any kind of insight into who she possibly was, she made the grave error of trusting him. She was diagnosed with severe retrograde amnesia resulting from a traumatic head injury consistent with a car accident. That revelation was an utter devastation to the young woman who, according to her conversant escort, was simply named “Kitty”. With no one else available to rely on for the details of a life seemingly forgotten, she accepted the help of her supposed savior.
While under his care, he underhandedly clued her in to the mystery of her life. Allegedly, she had been staying with him for quite some time and they had been fairly intimate. She had no family members and he was her sole benefactor. Still highly suspicious of exactly what he was telling her, she asked him to take her to their professed home. Instead of being assuaged, she was troubled yet again by the admission that the stranger who had escorted her to the hospital and had essentially given her her identity was actually a deceiving pimp named Spider. What followed that disclosure and her unfavorable reaction to that bit of news was her sudden captivity, that captivity somehow seeming familiar to her. It was during that bleak period that Spider utilized physical and intense psychological abuse to wear Kitty down with the intent to have her work for him as a prostitute. Left with no further options and down to her last shred of sanity, she grudgingly agreed.
Using psychosomatic influence in the form of false affection and preferential treatment, Spider managed to manipulate her into viewing him as her protector and enduring lover. With that brain-washing set in stone in Kitty’s mind, she did little to halt the corruption of her soul by selling her body for profit. For years she played the role of the faithful harlot, or “bottom girl”, only ever vaguely wondering about who she actually was. As time dragged on, however, her desire for uncovering her real identity morphed into a biting need for the truth. It twisted into an obsession that she could not satiate with mere ponderings and it grew so profound that one day, two years after her tragic accident, she finally worked up the nerve to ask Spider the details about their first encounter. It took almost 6 weeks for her ribs to heal after that particular blunder. As soon as she felt the brutality of his anger, she resolved to never broach the subject ever again.
Alas, just because she had conceded to keep from making any inquiries to Spider about her past life, that did not necessarily imply that she had also brought her nagging thoughts to a standstill. Unfortunately, all that she has been able to piece together is that she might not have been a resident of New York before the accident on account of not having met someone who recalled ever seeing or knowing her, though that might not be indicative of anything considering the people she now surrounds herself with. The motives for her presence in New York are still unknown, though she seems to think that she was likely running away from a predicament, hence the accident. What predicament she does not know, but there is one thing that she is certain of. She must’ve been a terrible person in the past because since the accident, no one ever came forth to claim her or even report her missing. That glaring truth dissuaded any thought of her actually putting a plan into motion. If the ones who inhabited her past had not made any effort to find her, the only sense in her toiling through a labyrinth of muddled emotions and non-existent memories was for simple self-discovery.
As the days continue to wither into years, that path to self-discovery grows more hazy. Terrifying to behold, Kitty also grows more and more accustomed to her obliviousness. Slowly and gradually, her resolve weakens. Acceptance of her fate seems inevitable at this rate, though she continues to hold out the hope that although nothing can be done about her past, her future does not have to suffer because of it.
THE SAMPLE
In Character Sample: Another night, another blade to mar her soul. For years, that figurative blade had danced across her velvety skin, biting deep and penetrating her. She was riddled with scars, scars that were only visible to her. They were elaborate and unsightly and they forced her gaze away from the mirror every single time.
The garish hideousness of the red fluorescent lighting that filled the room and the lasciviousness paired with such lighting acted as a blinding taunt. She was a whore, she was well aware, but everywhere she went she seemed to be reminded of that sordid fact. The tawdry lighting was not only to blame. Her still naked body that glistened with grimy sweat that she had not perspired, her tousled hair, the bed sheets that laid in complete disarray, and the fattish man that still rested his gelatinous body on that soiled bed all served as irrefutable testaments to her conceived evaluation of herself. She was a reluctant whore, but a whore nonetheless and that unforgiving truth was enough to stir a desire within her to fling herself through and out the window she stood in front of. It’s not like anyone would notice much. Hell, they weren’t noticing her now, even when her naked form was up for display for all the world to see. If they did in fact see her, they did not spare any of their precious seconds thinking of her. So the story went, it seemed.
It was always after the violation of her body had been completed that she spent a couple of moments to lament, to lose herself in torturous musings. It was in those moments, moments where the sickening pleasure-filled grunts of men engaged in sexual violence resonated in her ears and the savageness behind their thrusts played across her flesh, that she could stand to think. Not otherwise. So, as was customary after every squalid tryst with a stranger, her inane musing commenced.
Kitty was supposed to be her alias, but instead it was cemented as her name. That bothered her most of all, her lack of a name and identity. Sure, some could argue that she did indeed have a name and an identity, but it was not her own. As much as it disgusted her when she heard men groan out “Kitty”, as they sometimes did whilst in the throes of aggressive passion, it disgusted her even more that she had no other name to hide behind. Kitty had no other name to go home with that would help her separate the façade from the reality. When she returned home, it was still Kitty, the prostitute, that walked through the door.
Her mind flitting back to the man that had dubbed her Kitty, her fingers subconsciously traced over the spider tattoo that adorned her left hip. She harbored an extreme dislike for Spider, it was true, but she could not shake the hold he had over her. True to his moniker, he had managed to spin a web of lies so intricate for her that she could barely distinguish falsities from the truth, at least when it came to him. He had ensnared Kitty and held her fast, and she, the silly little fly, was trapped. Only, it wasn’t evisceration that the cunning Spider was aiming for. No, what he coveted was complete control and control was what he’d obtained. For such an easy target, it was not difficult for him to exert his authority over her. Kitty was too weak to resist.
The squeaking of rusty springs coming from the mattress and the rustling of clothes behind Kitty shook her out of her reverie, and she only bothered with a cursory glance. Her latest customer was mumbling something about his satisfaction with her services and his keenness for another meeting. Inwardly, she cringed. He was a vile excuse for a man, one so disgusting that his repulsiveness seeped into her. Instead of voicing her true repulsion, however, she simply tossed him a false smile over her shoulder and responded, “Ditto.”
With that, he handed her a wad of sweaty money. One hundred dollars. That was how much her disfigured soul was worth.
(I have a few concerns. The first is that since the history of the original Lucy Harris is never explained and her character is not explored that thoroughly, I worry that I may have stretched my creative liberties too far. In truth, Lucy Harris is an original character already, added to the established canon of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
My second concern involves the writing sample. If it is slightly too racy, please let me know. Considering her profession, I need to know exactly how explicit I am allowed to get with these posts.
My third concern is regarding the retrograde amnesia. Now, because of the amnesia, a very large portion of her history is missing, practically all of it. I am worried that not clarifying her past and instead making it even more indistinct is not acceptable. The general reason behind rendering her past so vague is to allow a plot to flourish from that mystery. Possible connections to other players and whatnot. I didn’t choose the amnesia route because of laziness, I assure you.)
Lucy “Kitty” Harris
|Low Class|
Canon:“Jekyll & Hyde” (Musical) adapted from “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” by Robert Louis Stevenson
Custom Title: The Amorous Harlot
PHYSICAL
Age: Unknown (Looks to be in her early twenties)
Gender: Female
Appearance: Medium-height brunette with a delicately chiseled jaw, one so defined to still be considered feminine. Has a very light olive complexion with a subtle rose flush perched atop high cheekbones. Her hair is usually styled in messy waves that hang loosely past her shoulders.
Height: 5’5
Body: Slender
Other distinguishing features: An elongated, raised and bumpy scar extending across the length of the right side of her head, situated prominently where the temporal lobe can be found. Though it is covered by the hair that has grown over the scar, it can still be felt. Completely contradicting her sultry appearance and questionable profession, her broad smile can be described as saccharine and amiable.
Wardrobe: Characteristic of a “lady of the evening”, she is almost always sporting attire that makes the elitist and otherwise supercilious portion of society turn their noses upwards to her. Utilizing a provocative and slightly disheveled sense of style, her closet is comprised of mainly titillating skirts, enticing shirts that leave just enough to the imagination, and an assortment of high-heels.
[/ul]Play By: Rachel McAdams
PERSONALITY
General personality: She is a young woman toughened and curiously softened by the harsh realities of life. Upon first meeting, her visage of street-wise temptress is fully intact. Wisecracking and prone to spouting lascivious obscenities, she can often be received as slightly endearing in her own vulgar way. Unbeknownst to most, however, her initial blasé attitude and exaggerated bravado act as her subterfuge. “Misdirection”, she refers to it as.
Her pronounced boldness and offending promiscuity generally serve as effective distractions from the damaged woman that lies beneath the veil of falsities. When not under the intense scrutiny of Spider and her fellow streetwalkers, she tends to harbor a more introverted personality. Wistful, slightly testy when frustrated, and habitually inattentive, her actual self is significantly different from the caricature that she purports. She is generally tenderhearted and sweet-natured, despite having every reason not to be. The hooker with the heart of gold, if you will, who aspires for nothing more than the truth.
Likes:
- Romance novels. Under the cover of night, and when her restlessness grips her to the point of desperation, she takes pleasure in reading the musings of whirl-wind romances wrought with tragedies and triumph. Though the intention is to obtain some meager form of contentment, more often than not it simply disheartens her even further.
- Making idle and meaningless conversation - one of her vast array of defense mechanisms.
- Honesty. Her situation, as off-putting as it is, stirred in her a desire to seek the truth. When someone is honest of their own accord, no matter how humiliating or taboo the circumstances, she appreciates it immensely.
Dislikes:
- Her line of work and the sexual objectification that it entails.
- Her inability to remember any details regarding her past.
- Liars. In her pursuit for the truth, she developed a severe abhorrence for those incapable or unwilling to provide it.
- Her own contradictory nature when it comes to truth and lies since she is often misleading out of pure necessity.
- Solitude. Being alone, and specifically suffering alone, causes her great distress. In the case of Lucy, “Misery does indeed love company”, selfish as that may sound to others.
Strengths: Her “acidic” charm, knowledge of the NYC prostitution and drug underground, her sociability, easygoing attitude, her generally truthful nature, discreetness
Weaknesses: Her intense fatalism, naivety in regards to personal connections, her inability to cope effectively with any sudden changes in her life, severe trust issues, her hazy past, men who impose their authority on her
BACKGROUND
Family: Unknown
Education: High School dropout (As far as she knows)
Occupation: Prostitute and occasional drug runner
Worst past experience: An accident, later determined to be vehicular, in which she lost all of her memories prior to the wreck.
Best past experience: The warped comfort and affection that Spider provided for her following the accident.
History: Her story is one with several, nearly the entirety, of the pages either missing, destroyed, or smeared beyond all comprehension. In order to make some feeble sense of the entire fiasco, one must start from the beginning and work their way to present day. The issue in this case would be the obscure beginnings of the woman in question. This tragic tale does not follow conventional structure in the sense that its middle is its beginning.
The night of July 16, 2008 found a young woman wandering through the streets of The Bronx in a catatonic daze. It is not certain just how long she had been limping about aimlessly or how far she had managed to travel away from the wreckage before someone noticed her bleeding wounds and escorted her to the nearest hospital. Unfortunately, as she would find out in due time, her escort did not necessarily have her best interests at heart. The first lesson she would ever learn after her accident would also be the harshest.
Waking up in an unfamiliar situation is intensely unsettling. Waking up in a hospital with no recollection of how you wound up there or who you even are is downright terrifying. Once she had gained actual consciousness, a wave of insurmountable fear crashed down upon her that seemingly crushed her already fractured ribs and life into millions of irretrievable pieces. When the supervising, and admittedly negligent, doctor prodded her for answers that might help to piece together the puzzle that was beginning to become her life, she could offer no assistance. The only person that was providing answers was someone that she, even in her enervated state, questioned the validity of his responses. Her chief impression of the stranger who was bursting with answers was that he looked like a shady character and one not to be trusted. Since he was the only person, however, supplying any kind of insight into who she possibly was, she made the grave error of trusting him. She was diagnosed with severe retrograde amnesia resulting from a traumatic head injury consistent with a car accident. That revelation was an utter devastation to the young woman who, according to her conversant escort, was simply named “Kitty”. With no one else available to rely on for the details of a life seemingly forgotten, she accepted the help of her supposed savior.
While under his care, he underhandedly clued her in to the mystery of her life. Allegedly, she had been staying with him for quite some time and they had been fairly intimate. She had no family members and he was her sole benefactor. Still highly suspicious of exactly what he was telling her, she asked him to take her to their professed home. Instead of being assuaged, she was troubled yet again by the admission that the stranger who had escorted her to the hospital and had essentially given her her identity was actually a deceiving pimp named Spider. What followed that disclosure and her unfavorable reaction to that bit of news was her sudden captivity, that captivity somehow seeming familiar to her. It was during that bleak period that Spider utilized physical and intense psychological abuse to wear Kitty down with the intent to have her work for him as a prostitute. Left with no further options and down to her last shred of sanity, she grudgingly agreed.
Using psychosomatic influence in the form of false affection and preferential treatment, Spider managed to manipulate her into viewing him as her protector and enduring lover. With that brain-washing set in stone in Kitty’s mind, she did little to halt the corruption of her soul by selling her body for profit. For years she played the role of the faithful harlot, or “bottom girl”, only ever vaguely wondering about who she actually was. As time dragged on, however, her desire for uncovering her real identity morphed into a biting need for the truth. It twisted into an obsession that she could not satiate with mere ponderings and it grew so profound that one day, two years after her tragic accident, she finally worked up the nerve to ask Spider the details about their first encounter. It took almost 6 weeks for her ribs to heal after that particular blunder. As soon as she felt the brutality of his anger, she resolved to never broach the subject ever again.
Alas, just because she had conceded to keep from making any inquiries to Spider about her past life, that did not necessarily imply that she had also brought her nagging thoughts to a standstill. Unfortunately, all that she has been able to piece together is that she might not have been a resident of New York before the accident on account of not having met someone who recalled ever seeing or knowing her, though that might not be indicative of anything considering the people she now surrounds herself with. The motives for her presence in New York are still unknown, though she seems to think that she was likely running away from a predicament, hence the accident. What predicament she does not know, but there is one thing that she is certain of. She must’ve been a terrible person in the past because since the accident, no one ever came forth to claim her or even report her missing. That glaring truth dissuaded any thought of her actually putting a plan into motion. If the ones who inhabited her past had not made any effort to find her, the only sense in her toiling through a labyrinth of muddled emotions and non-existent memories was for simple self-discovery.
As the days continue to wither into years, that path to self-discovery grows more hazy. Terrifying to behold, Kitty also grows more and more accustomed to her obliviousness. Slowly and gradually, her resolve weakens. Acceptance of her fate seems inevitable at this rate, though she continues to hold out the hope that although nothing can be done about her past, her future does not have to suffer because of it.
THE SAMPLE
In Character Sample: Another night, another blade to mar her soul. For years, that figurative blade had danced across her velvety skin, biting deep and penetrating her. She was riddled with scars, scars that were only visible to her. They were elaborate and unsightly and they forced her gaze away from the mirror every single time.
The garish hideousness of the red fluorescent lighting that filled the room and the lasciviousness paired with such lighting acted as a blinding taunt. She was a whore, she was well aware, but everywhere she went she seemed to be reminded of that sordid fact. The tawdry lighting was not only to blame. Her still naked body that glistened with grimy sweat that she had not perspired, her tousled hair, the bed sheets that laid in complete disarray, and the fattish man that still rested his gelatinous body on that soiled bed all served as irrefutable testaments to her conceived evaluation of herself. She was a reluctant whore, but a whore nonetheless and that unforgiving truth was enough to stir a desire within her to fling herself through and out the window she stood in front of. It’s not like anyone would notice much. Hell, they weren’t noticing her now, even when her naked form was up for display for all the world to see. If they did in fact see her, they did not spare any of their precious seconds thinking of her. So the story went, it seemed.
It was always after the violation of her body had been completed that she spent a couple of moments to lament, to lose herself in torturous musings. It was in those moments, moments where the sickening pleasure-filled grunts of men engaged in sexual violence resonated in her ears and the savageness behind their thrusts played across her flesh, that she could stand to think. Not otherwise. So, as was customary after every squalid tryst with a stranger, her inane musing commenced.
Kitty was supposed to be her alias, but instead it was cemented as her name. That bothered her most of all, her lack of a name and identity. Sure, some could argue that she did indeed have a name and an identity, but it was not her own. As much as it disgusted her when she heard men groan out “Kitty”, as they sometimes did whilst in the throes of aggressive passion, it disgusted her even more that she had no other name to hide behind. Kitty had no other name to go home with that would help her separate the façade from the reality. When she returned home, it was still Kitty, the prostitute, that walked through the door.
Her mind flitting back to the man that had dubbed her Kitty, her fingers subconsciously traced over the spider tattoo that adorned her left hip. She harbored an extreme dislike for Spider, it was true, but she could not shake the hold he had over her. True to his moniker, he had managed to spin a web of lies so intricate for her that she could barely distinguish falsities from the truth, at least when it came to him. He had ensnared Kitty and held her fast, and she, the silly little fly, was trapped. Only, it wasn’t evisceration that the cunning Spider was aiming for. No, what he coveted was complete control and control was what he’d obtained. For such an easy target, it was not difficult for him to exert his authority over her. Kitty was too weak to resist.
The squeaking of rusty springs coming from the mattress and the rustling of clothes behind Kitty shook her out of her reverie, and she only bothered with a cursory glance. Her latest customer was mumbling something about his satisfaction with her services and his keenness for another meeting. Inwardly, she cringed. He was a vile excuse for a man, one so disgusting that his repulsiveness seeped into her. Instead of voicing her true repulsion, however, she simply tossed him a false smile over her shoulder and responded, “Ditto.”
With that, he handed her a wad of sweaty money. One hundred dollars. That was how much her disfigured soul was worth.
(I have a few concerns. The first is that since the history of the original Lucy Harris is never explained and her character is not explored that thoroughly, I worry that I may have stretched my creative liberties too far. In truth, Lucy Harris is an original character already, added to the established canon of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
My second concern involves the writing sample. If it is slightly too racy, please let me know. Considering her profession, I need to know exactly how explicit I am allowed to get with these posts.
My third concern is regarding the retrograde amnesia. Now, because of the amnesia, a very large portion of her history is missing, practically all of it. I am worried that not clarifying her past and instead making it even more indistinct is not acceptable. The general reason behind rendering her past so vague is to allow a plot to flourish from that mystery. Possible connections to other players and whatnot. I didn’t choose the amnesia route because of laziness, I assure you.)
