Post by eunae on Apr 28, 2013 17:33:20 GMT
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 380px; background-image:URL(http://i800.photobucket.com/albums/yy284/brooklynlolli/x0r3w0.png); border-left: 10px solid #1e1e1e; border-right: 10px solid #1e1e1e;] EUNAE "BUTTERFLY" PARK  ------------------------------------------------- FULL NAME eunae park. NICKNAMES most people can't/don't try to pronounce her name right, so she is called park or parker. her love and adoration for wings has earned her the nickname of butterfly (she prefers this to the former). AGE sixteen. GENDER female. BIRTHDAY september thirteenth. SPECIES human. ALLIANCE light. SEXUALITY heterosexual. ------------------------------------------------- PLAY-BY jung eunji. EYES brown, crescent-shaped. HAIR dark brown, long and straight. BODY TYPE lithe, tiny-frame, thin. HEIGHT 5'4"/167cm. WEIGHT 110lbs/50kg. DISTINGUISHING FEATURES STYLE eunae would rather wear an oversized sweatshirt and shorts with her hair pulled up into a messy bun or ponytail for the rest of her life. but she knows that her sister would never allow it, so she tends to dress in a cuter manner. she wears many dresses, of a more colored fashion, and many dressy shirts and sweaters. she has a wood-woven bracelet that she has worn since that fateful day in the park (that she received from the faerie). she tends to dress casually and prettily, but not over-zealously like her sister. ------------------------------------------------- LIKES
DISLIKES
STRENGTHS
WEAKNESSES
HABITS
FEARS
DESIRES
SECRETS
OVERALL eunae does not have the time to mess around with many types of people: idiots, people choosing to be ignorant, people that don't try, and general murderers, rapists, racists, sexists and other scum of society. the thing that annoys her the most are the people that talk just to talk, and people that don't even try with her name. she doesn't really like her name, because it is so hard for people to wrap their head around, but to have people dismantle it without any regard is just terrible. parker is her second resort. most people call her butterfly. if these things don't apply, then there is smooth-sailing in store for you with eunae. she's the type of person that is very casual and generally easy-going. her temper isn't generally an issue. she may seem pretty quiet to an outsider, but get to know her and you will find that it's only 75% of the truth. she is only so quiet because she likes to observe and think, and not waste her breath on such trivial topics. she’s quite shy and awkward in social settings (she admires her sister for being so social). the other 25% of the time, she is quite goofy and spazzy. she labels herself as somewhat spunky, and somewhat of a sassmaster. she spends much of her time pondering over mysteries of the world, like the unearthly creatures that roam the town and universe. being brought up on fairytales and children's stories, eunae has always had an interest and core-belief that there was more to life than just being human and mundane tasks. she has a bit of an obsession with proving this and becoming one with supernatural entities, she has since that fateful day in the park. she keeps this from her sister, though. eunae is in love with learning and reading. knowledge is power in her mind. she catches on to things quickly and is always trying to challenge herself. high school isn't nearly enough, so during the summer she takes free college courses. her sister often calls her a genius, but eunae disagrees, there is still so much for her to learn. ------------------------------------------------- MOTHER miyoung park. FATHER chanyeol park. SIBLINGS soomin park. OTHER PERSONS OF IMPORTANCE duffy, her cat. (dande)lion, the faerie she met in the park. ETHNICITY korean. WEALTH STATUS poor. OVERALL it was a bit of a wild september thirteenth when eunae came into the world, contrary to her personality. she and her older sister must have made the park family one of bad luck and curses, both being born on the unlucky days of their months, the thirteenths. maybe it was a sign of what was to come. anyway, eunae's parents were almost always working when she grew up, needless to say, she was basically raised by her sister, soomin. she was often told fairytales by her father, too (she hates to admit, but she's probably his favorite). eunae looked up to her, and still does (although has begun to criticize her sister's living habits more, now that she's sixteen and has gained a voice). eunae couldn't live without her minnie. soomin played an important role for the day that changed her life forever. that day in the park had been her idea, which was weird considering how girly she is (eunae chalks it up to the fact that maybe she wasn't so much at this time). it had been scary when it had first happened, eunae had snuck away from her sister to go climb a tree or pick flowers, something. then, this winged-person had crept up behind her and nearly scared her to death. there had been a sort of creepy feeling in the air, it only dissipated after the creature had given her a flower (what little girl dislikes flowers?) and made her laugh a few times. they had had idle chatter and small adventures in the park's gardens and the faerie had even helped her to climb the big tree by flying her up there. the fae had also been the beginnings to her lessons in self-defense. her 'lion had been so sweet and funny, she just had to show her sister. but when she looked back, he had been gone, into the shadows of the park. eunae had begged her sister to go back to the park the many days following that. even when they did go back, eunae could find no traces of her dandelion. it became quite an obsession with her after that, like peter pan come to life, or something along those lines. it did not really matter what it was, so long as it had to do with a world she knew nothing about. a world where she could be the heroine and set off on her own magical adventure. she researched and searched, secretly dedicated her teenage years to finding her 'lion and proving he wasn't part of her imagination. schoolwork was also a dedication, though she easily excelled in some of her classes and got good grades. her grades have somewhat fallen in result of her mind being in other places, and her being so lazy. anyway, eunae spends the majority of her time reading in the park or the cemetery (her two favorite places). she works weekends and few odd days in the food industry, (she'd rather work in a bookstore where she can oogle all the cute nerd boys). and she spends a lot of time with her cat. |
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NAME/ALIAS bloo.
AGE n/a.
TIME ZONE est.
HOW YOU FOUND US advertisement.
OTHER CHARACTERS n/a.
RP SAMPLE
[/div]NAME/ALIAS bloo.
AGE n/a.
TIME ZONE est.
HOW YOU FOUND US advertisement.
OTHER CHARACTERS n/a.
RP SAMPLE
Dorian responded to Pluto in a similar fashion, a softer grunt and a small thump as he rested his head against the wall. Had death turned them into old men already, conversing through grunts and head gestures? If there was anything else Dorian had thought to say on such matters, the words had already fled. His energy had diminished with the debate of drugs and school. His mouth ran dry as he looked on at Pluto, dark hair and eyes and pale skin that bore Dorian's mark. A sigh seeped through Dorian's smiling lips as he gazed at the genie, and Dorian rarely was not looking at the genie. His legs opened farther as if trying to fill the space of the room that was left feeling void just as their conversation.
There were so many possibilities for the events of the morning. Both good and bad. However, the "bad" was usually only coupled with things of a not-so terrible nature like nearly being late for classes, not waking up, and "bastard, I need the bathroom!" There was silence too, but not normally the result of a disagreement, as this one was. Into the dawn, behind closed eyelids and soft snores, Dorian had dreamed of the morning that would have (and should have) come. There was silence, yes, but only because the breakfast was too delicious to pause for chatter. There was both a sweetness and a bitterness to the taste of the other's mouth. A certain unique flavor that Dorian would have spent the entire morning trying to figure out with his tongue, rather than dig through his closet of shoes in search of what looked nice with the his bracelets (or whatever). But one of his dreams had come true last night; the dream god probably needed to refuel. (It seemed like living with a genie did nothing to speed up this process)
But this morning had turned out bitter and sweet in its own way (which was also turning out to be unique). Dorian didn't mind either way, as long as the flutter remained in his stomach and his wings. With Pluto, the feeling still had yet to fade. Especially if the other kept pulling out those all-knowing smirks like some kind of wild card that never failed to turn Dorian's stomach to knots. There were so many little things that Pluto did, that caused Dorian's heart to tremble and insides to squirm. When combined, Dorian's blood burned through his veins and his heart threatened to explode. Baby.
Something in the back of his mind told him that he couldn't act so childish about such a thing. He'd had petnames and endearments given to him before. It wasn't anything new to him. They just didn't last. It had been a while since he had been anyone's baby, anyone's anything. His legs tightened around Pluto as his hands continued to dance across skin. He hummed in response. He had been his mother's world, her baby, spoiled and doted on in the way that mother's did to their only, and first-born sons. Filled with love and praise for all his life. It was pride in his father's eyes: all the "Yes, my son..."s and "That's my little boy!"s. The way his mother's friends always complimented him, wished him to be their son instead, and the way his mother always seemed to put a claim on him. "My baby has grown up handsomely, hasn't he?" When he'd hastily slide in a word about "not being a baby anymore" to save face in front of her friends, salvaging his teenage pride, she'd respond, "But you'll always be my baby, Dorian. Forever." As if he could do no wrong.
Forever came and left quickly, its exit like a slap to the face, leaving a long-lasting sting that brought hot tears to his eyes. A pit opened in his stomach and a piece of his heart sank into it. Before it hit the bottom, Pluto had reached out and saved this shard of his heart before it could shatter. It fluttered on its own, in its own forever, a new infinity. Dorian squeezed Pluto's hand. He gently rested his head on the others, letting out a contented sigh into the other's dark hair. His mouth opened, but closed again a few seconds later without a word being spoken, as if sound would ruin the moment. It was ironic how Pluto had wanted him to shut up only minutes prior, and now the roles were reversed.
Coolness enveloped him, or it had already been there and he had just been distracted. He was without clothes after all. But when he pulled away from Pluto, his arm was slightly sticky. His nose crinkled in distaste, but the expression quickly vanished. Yes, he was cold (apart from that area of his neck that still felt electric from Pluto's touch). It did feel a little nippy in the room. The hairs on his arms had begun to stand up. But instead of answering, he voiced his thoughts from earlier. “Am I yours?” he tentatively asked. Gaining more voice, he continued, “'Cause I wanna be.” he untangled their hands and shifted so he could gauge a better reaction from Pluto. Dorian felt the blood creeping up his neck, the flush, and felt the tingles of an anxious sweat. After another brief pause, he took Pluto's hand again. It felt right. They felt right. It was too wrong to be apart. “I really want you. I really want for you to be mine."
There were so many possibilities for the events of the morning. Both good and bad. However, the "bad" was usually only coupled with things of a not-so terrible nature like nearly being late for classes, not waking up, and "bastard, I need the bathroom!" There was silence too, but not normally the result of a disagreement, as this one was. Into the dawn, behind closed eyelids and soft snores, Dorian had dreamed of the morning that would have (and should have) come. There was silence, yes, but only because the breakfast was too delicious to pause for chatter. There was both a sweetness and a bitterness to the taste of the other's mouth. A certain unique flavor that Dorian would have spent the entire morning trying to figure out with his tongue, rather than dig through his closet of shoes in search of what looked nice with the his bracelets (or whatever). But one of his dreams had come true last night; the dream god probably needed to refuel. (It seemed like living with a genie did nothing to speed up this process)
But this morning had turned out bitter and sweet in its own way (which was also turning out to be unique). Dorian didn't mind either way, as long as the flutter remained in his stomach and his wings. With Pluto, the feeling still had yet to fade. Especially if the other kept pulling out those all-knowing smirks like some kind of wild card that never failed to turn Dorian's stomach to knots. There were so many little things that Pluto did, that caused Dorian's heart to tremble and insides to squirm. When combined, Dorian's blood burned through his veins and his heart threatened to explode. Baby.
Something in the back of his mind told him that he couldn't act so childish about such a thing. He'd had petnames and endearments given to him before. It wasn't anything new to him. They just didn't last. It had been a while since he had been anyone's baby, anyone's anything. His legs tightened around Pluto as his hands continued to dance across skin. He hummed in response. He had been his mother's world, her baby, spoiled and doted on in the way that mother's did to their only, and first-born sons. Filled with love and praise for all his life. It was pride in his father's eyes: all the "Yes, my son..."s and "That's my little boy!"s. The way his mother's friends always complimented him, wished him to be their son instead, and the way his mother always seemed to put a claim on him. "My baby has grown up handsomely, hasn't he?" When he'd hastily slide in a word about "not being a baby anymore" to save face in front of her friends, salvaging his teenage pride, she'd respond, "But you'll always be my baby, Dorian. Forever." As if he could do no wrong.
Forever came and left quickly, its exit like a slap to the face, leaving a long-lasting sting that brought hot tears to his eyes. A pit opened in his stomach and a piece of his heart sank into it. Before it hit the bottom, Pluto had reached out and saved this shard of his heart before it could shatter. It fluttered on its own, in its own forever, a new infinity. Dorian squeezed Pluto's hand. He gently rested his head on the others, letting out a contented sigh into the other's dark hair. His mouth opened, but closed again a few seconds later without a word being spoken, as if sound would ruin the moment. It was ironic how Pluto had wanted him to shut up only minutes prior, and now the roles were reversed.
Coolness enveloped him, or it had already been there and he had just been distracted. He was without clothes after all. But when he pulled away from Pluto, his arm was slightly sticky. His nose crinkled in distaste, but the expression quickly vanished. Yes, he was cold (apart from that area of his neck that still felt electric from Pluto's touch). It did feel a little nippy in the room. The hairs on his arms had begun to stand up. But instead of answering, he voiced his thoughts from earlier. “Am I yours?” he tentatively asked. Gaining more voice, he continued, “'Cause I wanna be.” he untangled their hands and shifted so he could gauge a better reaction from Pluto. Dorian felt the blood creeping up his neck, the flush, and felt the tingles of an anxious sweat. After another brief pause, he took Pluto's hand again. It felt right. They felt right. It was too wrong to be apart. “I really want you. I really want for you to be mine."
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made by brooklyn at caution[/center]
