Rings of Honor

- A FreeForm Roleplaying Community  

Junior Adventurer

Username:

Chloe Bell

Groups:

Registered users

Character:

Chloe Bell

Character Race:

Human

Gender:

Female

Character Portrait:

Profession:

Goetia girl, odd jobs, catering to seventy two hitchhikers.

Appearance:

Chloe Bell should have been a name crowned in gold. Sparkling with the Bell family jewels that pumped out corporate garbage which she never had a political taste for. Their mannerisms were too forced for the wild eyed virago to ever really adopt so the silver spoon was wrestled out from her bleeding gums (from all the glass she was forced to eat when seated at a table of too-pale vultures) and thrown in a box of family albums now hidden high in an attic smack dab in the gut of The Hamptons. She wasn't born with the diamond shine that mother-dearest wanted or the easy-breezy bubblegum laugh that distant daddy was promised. They couldn't groom such a feral Xanthippe who jumped from the windowsills to go sipping from brown bags (Mad Dog 20/20 was a cheap thrill ride that the Quick Mart provided for any sylph-shouldered runaway) while sharpening her claws on all the boys who smelled of cigarette smoke and hand-me-down denim. No matter how many ropes they tried to tie to all her hydra headed desperation, they couldn't keep the clandestine Delilah from escaping the white washed promises fed to her.

She'll never remember the last heart she broke or the last car she confessed in; these are all just blurs that she can't recognize in any line up with all the hijinks that alcohol plays in her eyes. It's not that she doesn't want you to know that your notch on the bedside post will just add up to another prince that couldn't save the dirty damsel. And it's not part of any nursery rhyme that will be her unrealistic ending because there are no frogs to kiss in the bowels of New York. Her journey from backseat bachelorette to this carnivorous bête noire doesn't begin with anything soft and the ending will be presumed just as jaggedly reckless as her lips when the smile she slips you comes with dangerous levels of toxicity.

Her right way was constantly a wrong turn but the mistakes she makes are never with out the delight that she dances at midnight and sleeps till noon. It's a liquor soaked novel like this that is just shy of becoming a consorts scarlet letter diary with the pages wrinkled by the savages she kisses (and forgets) in the Stygian fields.

Character Scene:

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Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication,
in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me,
I escape, one way or another. No more walls. - Anais Nin