Welcome to Gaia :: operating room (testing, do not post)

Log In

Forgot your login?

Sign Up

Register
 
GST
Export this topic to other sites using WildFire!
forum:8, topic:36618097
< 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx»xxxxxxxaliceopheliaswan
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxp l a y e d x b y x f a l l e n P 0 T A T 0 E _ _ x x



h a v e n ' t x y o u x h e a r d ? x i ' m x t h e x s c h e m i n g x g o s s i p
x a r o u n d x h e r e




                                » If there's one thing that I am for sure, it's conniving. I don't know if there's ever an hour when I'm not plotting the downfall of someone. I'm also a huge b***h, of course, it's a lot more subtle than [queen b***h] , and no one knows how devious or nasty I am. I'm super persuasive, and I'm yet to meet a person that I can't manipulate. I've got barely any conscience at all, and when I do, I push it away. You can't do what I do to people and be guilty about it. Which brings me to my next point; I'm very protective of myself. I refuse to be vulnerable in any way and I don't let anyone get close to the real me. I've played enough losers to know that it's a bad idea to let anyone but yourself know about your secrets, or insecurities. So, I guess whenever I'm trying to overthrow someone, and I want to get close to them, everything I say is a lie. Chances are, if I ever tell you about my hopes, dreams or dark secrets, it's all just a facade. Believe it or not, but I do have a softer side. For example, if I genuinely like you, I could never destroy you. And if I don't like you, well, bye-bye reputation.
                                » I've never had the conventional home life. See, my mom's this 'black widow' type of woman. She dates men (very rich men), gets married, and when the romance disappears from the couple, she divorces them and takes half their posessions. It's sparked lots of moving around, since my mom doesn't want to risk seeing any of her ex-husbands. So, I don't know who my dad is, and, ever time I ask, mom says a different name each time, like she doesn't remember. I have an older brother, named Jeremy. He's my best friend EVER. If you have to go through as much as we have (ie. getting close to a new daddy each year before having him torn from us), you just can't help but love what you got, because, at any second, Jeremy, or I could just be gone. At the moment, he's in college, which sucks, since I don't have my main support system. While he's gone, moms dating this new guy, he's like a million years old, but he owns a chain of supermarkets...
                                » Well, I guess you could say that my love life, at the moment, is non-existent. I've had boyfriends before, and flings, just like most of the other girls I hang out with, but, right now, I've got way too many other things going on. But, there is one guy that I'm totally hot for, and, he's got practically everything to do with the 'other things' I've got. You see, the guy is [quarterbacks name], you know, the dreamy quarterback. I guess, you'd also know that he's dating [queen b***h]. For a week or so, I've been formulating a plan to break them up. I'm one-hundred percent sure that [queen b***h] has got some very interesting skeletons in her closet, you'd be surprised. And, as long as I act enough like a loyal, desperate lacky to her, I figure I could infiltrate the locked safe that is her empty mind. I know it'll be hard, since the b***h has sent people to their deaths before, but, I'm doing anything to get the quarterback. Oh, one more thing. I know about that daredevil guy crushing on me, and, to be honest, he's cute, but he's super immature. But, that doesn't mean I can't use him, right?
                                » Stereotype paragraph.
                                » The new girl? What an annoying waste of space. She's so sweet I got a bad toothache just looking at her. She doesn't have a clue how to act in this school. A part from teh obvious, I barely know anything about her, but since the quarterback seems to be pretty interested in her, my second priority here is to destroy her. My first is definitely to get queenie, so then I can rule the jungle that is this high school, from there, it should get a lot easier. I bet you any money; in a month, I will be running this place and everyone would have forgotten all about the queen bee and this new girl. Trust me, her naivity doesn't make me feel bad for her in the least.
                                » Paragraph about deepest, darkest secrets.
                                » Hobbies paragraph.
                                » Paragraph about quirks and talents.
                                » If you were an animal, which one would you be and why? An entire paragraph about it, loves.
                                » 'Plans after school' paragraph.


 
     


umm . . . yer
 

heather grace sinclair
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>( t h ex h o m e w r e a k i n g xwhore )

                                        my friends call me » just heather
                                        don't tell the press » eighteen
                                        my favorite color i » cornflowerblue
                                        my real identityxiii » fallenP0TAT0E__xx


                                Hey, the name's Heather Sinclair, and I don't abbreviate, so nicknames are out of the question. I'm the youngest child and only daughter of my parents, Martin and Julie Sinclair. They're both pretty loaded, by the way. My dad's a property developer, and he makes a ton of money, especially in a place as gorgeous as Newport. My mom has a less earning, but still very important job. She's his secretary. I guess it works, too, since their marriage is still as strong as ever at twenty-six years. I could never imagine having sex with the same person for that long, well, actually, it creeps me out to think that my parents have ever had sex...EW! I didn't grow up here in Newport, but, I've lived in Cali my whole life. We moved around a little, but, basically, I've been staioned on a beachy landscape since I was just a baby, resulting in my gorgeous, natural tan. I know, be jealous.
     


umm . . . yer






kimberley jane strauss
xxxxxxxhere comes the bride





                                        "Please tell me that the press still don't know that I'm in Las Vegas," Kimberley Strauss (yes, the Kimberley Strauss) asked her personal assistant while she sat tiredly in the hotel restaurant. Kimmy couldn't remember the actual name of the place she was staying, she could barely remember checking in. But, there was a whole lot more that she didn't remember happening the night before, like, umm, off the top of her head, getting married. If only she could say that was the worst part.

                                        By far, the worst part was explaining to her friends just how she managed to become Mrs. Nicholas Vernon - overnight and without them noticing. It was bad enough for a regular person, but Kimmy? If the paparazzi caught wind of this she'd be in the tabloids for weeks. And then this whole thing would be mentioned over and over, just like Britney Spears' Vegas wedding. Except, it was still worse, since Kimmy had to awkwardly tell her boyfriend that not only had she cheated on him, but actually married the guy she did it with hours (well, it might have been minutes, she was totally wasted) before it happened. She was hoping that he had forgiven her, since she didn't have a clue what she was doing at the time. But, still, Kimmy would have been completely pissed if she learned that he'd cheated on her, drunk or not. So, for now, she was just going to let him decide whether he'd be OK. Because, if not, bye-bye stable relationship.

                                        Kimberley was leaning on her hand and propped up on her elbow. Her head was thumping loudly and every word that emitted from her friends sounded a thousand times louder than it should have. At the next table, her new 'husband' was conversing with his own friend. She couldn't have cared less, though. Not while her head was pulsing with a painful headache. "Can I get you anything?" Asked the restaurants waitress, who thankfully couldn't recognize Kimmy past the heiress' large, pink sunglasses; the waitress ('Becky', it said on her name tag) was clearly uninterested in her job, as if she was doing them a big favor. Kimmy was in far too much pain to think about anything, well, except for her very own hangover cure. "Could you please grab me some gravy?" Kimmy asked the waitress, as if speaking each word was a battle in itself. Becky looked at her in confusion. "Umm, would you like anything with the gravy?" She asked as if Kimmy was insane or something. "I don't know, some hashbrowns, pancakes. I'll take it in a mug for crying out loud. Just surprise me." She said, slightly irritated as the waitress scoffed at her and moved onto the rest of her friends.

                                        Kimmy looked over at her new husbands table for a second. He really wasn't that bad a choice for a one-night-stand/spontaneous Vegas wedding. She would have guessed that there was a type of guy that girls slept with while drunk. The physically unappealing, loser kind of guys. But, Nicholas was, well, very hot...and so was his girlfriend. Kimmy tore her eyes from the table and back onto her own. "You guys are going to forgive me for this, right?" She asked finally, deciding she wouldn't talk for a while, or, at least until she felt a little better.

                                        Now, where was that chick with her gravy...
 
     


umm . . . yer
 

                      n o t x y o u r x a v e r a g e x hufflepuff




      THUMP! THUMP!

      "Housekeeping!"

      Petra Ambrose groaned as she lifted her head of matted hair and looked towards the door. The maid was outside her room, just like she was every morning at eleven o'clock, even after Petra told her time and time again that she was a late sleeper. She was sure that the witch had it in for her. "It's OK, Celeste, I can clean it up myself!" Petra called out and pulled her pillow back over her head. It was the same thing she always told Celeste, but, she never listened. And, true to her routine, the maid opened up Petra's door and waltzed straight in, cleaning utensils and all. Petra had no idea why Celeste didn't like her; to her memory, she hadn't been rude to the girl upon meeting. But, she guessed that she was probably just bitter about her line of work...

      "Come on, Miss Ambrose. You can't just live in your room on such a beautiful day. Especially since brekkie ends in a half-hour." Celeste said, her voice leaking with satisfaction at the sight of Petra's irritated face. Petra sat up in her bed and looked out the view of Diagon Alley she got from her window. It was nothing spectacular, and not just because all Petra could see was a brick wall of the shop across the road. It was because it was boarded up as well. Petra sighed, why did she have to have this room. She was sure that some other room had a much better view than this. But, with all the you-know-who scares and the Daily Prophet's deatheater warnings, practically every other store in Diagon Alley looked just the same. Well, except maybe for the Weasley twin's one, but, everybody already thought those two were completely insane; the joking sings on the store did nothing to calm the people's fears when they went home.

      Petra stood up off of her bed as Celeste began to fix the sheets. Petra sneered at her slightly before walking over to the suitcase by the door which still had all of her things in it, even after five days in this place. Petra knew that putting the clothes into the wooden trunk at the foot of the bed was just a spell away, but, really, she couldn't be bothered. Summer was a time that should be free of all spells. On any other day, Petra could have just grabbed a few articles of clothing out of her bag without thought and put them on in seconds. But, today, with Celeste in the room, she took the time to choose her clothes, on the off chance that the maid would be gone by the time she was done. Of course, she was wrong, and Celeste was intentionally taking her time to fluff the pillows on the twin bed Petra had slept in. She rolled her eyes at the girl and headed for the bathroom with her clothes in hand.

      Petra locked the door and began to change into a thick-strapped singlet, a hooded, gray cardigan and a pair of blue jeans. Petra studied her appearance in the bathroom mirror before picking up her blue toothbrush and some toothpaste. When Petra was done with the brushing, she decided she couldn't be bothered with make-up for the day, and it was the Summer anyways; who'd care? Petra unlocked the door and dumped her pajamas back onto her bed before slipping on some flip-flops and looking back at Celeste for a second. "I'm going now, you can stop with the charade." She said sarcastically and walked out of her room to greet the sight of the door across her own. Usually, there was an old guy standing there, ready to mumble something inaudible to her while he smoked a pipe. But, she guessed that he wasn't up yet, since, she was out far earlier than most other days.

      Petra descended the stairs and caught sight of the bar, where a few familiar peers were sitting. Most of the time, she avoided them, not because she didn't like them, but, Petra did like to go at her own pace. If somebody wanted to hang out, she'd have to get up early, eat quickly and walk eagerly; not her style. She approached the bar, just in time to hear her two favorite (ha!) Slytherins conversing. "...they have abandoned us with dirty Mudblood's and Half-Bloods..." Petra stopped in her tracks and scowled at the guy, what was his name again? Ba! it didn't matter. "No one in this bar is as filthy as you two..." Petra muttered, wanting to rip out her own eyes just to get away from their harsh presence. She headed on past them without a second glance. "Hey!" Petra said, a lot more cheerily this time, and to no one in particular. She took a seat beside Bridget and Chris, seeing as they were the only other Hufflepuff's around, but her attention was primarily on Tom, who'd just approached her. "Anythin' I can get yer, Miss Ambrose?" He asked, his eyes beckoning hopefully for a positive response. "I'm craving pancakes at the moment, Tom, could you-" Was all she could get out before Tom immediately disappeared into the kitchen.

      Petra grinned, happy that she was going to get a real breakfast for the first time in the Summer. With all of her oversleeping, she's missed out on it, and was actually pretty grateful for Celeste's rude awakening. "Anything on today's agenda?" Petra asked, mainly to Chris and Bridget, but, she kept her voice loud enough for most of the others to answer if they felt it.
     


umm . . . yer
___________

XXXasher michael penn

XXX XX" the tv personality "


" now we've got a big, big mess on our hands, tonight "



»XXXXXXthe first layer

          ash
          twenty-three
          december 20th
          sagittarius


»XXXXXXthe second layer

          Hey, I'm Ash, but, I guess if you watch MTV these days, you'd know me as Asher Penn. It's my stage name really, a lot catchier than Ash Penn, I think. Yeah, so, I guess virtually every teen has to know me as a VJ on MTV, as I have been for a few years. More specifically, I'm on TRL most of the time, but, I'm basically all over the place. I co-host TRL, other music shows, I'm the host of a reality TV show on there (I know, I totally sold out on that one). But, I have been a guest and made cameos on other TV shows, which, I guess, really sets the whole TV personality thing in stone. If everyone doesn't know my name by now, I'd be pretty shocked. Don't get me wrong, though, I'm not one of those kinds of celebrities that get all emotional if you don't know their name. Actually, I'd probably prefer it if people didn't always come up to me in the streets asking for autographs, well, except maybe the hot girls (the legal ones). My career started when I was nineteen, and prior to that I was just like every other teenager in California; well, at least, the ones that didn't drive around in luxury cars and spend thousands a week. No, I was the average kind of guy. I was living in a one-bedroom apartment and working at a furniture company, trying to earn enough money for a down-payment on college. One day, I was a at a friends and MTV advertised that they were looking for a new VJ. A few of my friends told me I was pretty charismatic, so I went for it and BAM. Instant fame.

          Before that I just grew up in a regular life; suburban home, two siblings (older brother, younger sister); not exactly the type of life you expect people to grow out of and become famous. In fact, since I was a kid I've wanted to be a lawyer. Not for the money; I didn't want to end up like those old guys that defend the people you know are guilty of something. I wanted to help people, kinda like Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird. I've always been pretty mature like that. But, since I got this opportunity, I've kind of left back my dreams of trying to help people; it's hard doing anything but my job at the moment. Soon, though, when I'm well-known enough, I want to start some big charity event. Not sure what the cause will be, but I promise it'll be something worthwhile. At this point I should mention that I'm not exactly an angel. Charities are easy if you're famous, that's why everyone does it, and I do want to help the world somehow. But, personally, I can be a bit of an a**. I'm pretty sarcastic, and often make jokes at the expense of other people. And, there is one type of person I just cannot stand, no matter how charismatic or laid-back I am. You know that singer, Sacha Davis? Well, I've met her a few times on MTV, and, it's not exactly public, but, God, do I detest her. She's an idiot, I know, that's pretty harsh, but, she is. At least, I think so. She's nice and all, but, way too oblivious and naive to survive in this industry. I just can't stand to be around her she's so clueless.

          Since I've heard about my co-stars on this reality show (which I foolishly agreed to being in early in my career), I've had mixed feelings. I get along with almost everyone, well, except Alexander Stewart, because I played a tiny prank on him on national television and now he's a b*****d to me; and Sacha, of course, because I just don't like her foolishness. But, I'm also pretty happy, since, I've had this long-running (i'm talking centuries), crush on The Heiress. She's gorgeous, and, I've actually had the pleasure of meeting her a few times. I know it's not really a guy thing, but, I always get butterflies in my stomach whenever I'm in her company. I've attempted asking her out a few times, and was almost successful, but, with such busy schedules that we have, we were quickly rushed out of wherever the hell we are. It seems like at least one night a week (provided I get a free one) I spend it just staring at the phone, thinking about calling her, and then what to say. But, I've decided I"m doing it in person. And, this show is just perfect. The challenge will be getting the time to do it with no cameras around. I know how these things work, and it seems there's always somebody watching you, whether it's the cameras, the producers, or other people in the show.

          As for the rest of my love life, it's actually kind of been good. I go on date every now and then, and, really, it's better if you ignore the rumors and buzz about them. People think just because I went to dinner with some singer one time, we're going to get married and move to New York. But, I just turn a blind eye to that stuff, because, really, there isn't a lot I've got to lose from them. It's not like I have a girlfriend (sadly) that'd be pissed if she saw picture of me and some hot, blonde singer hanging out. It doesn't matter though, so I still date. I think since I got famous, I haven't actually had a real girlfriend. I have a fling, but, I guess that's not exactly the same. Truthfully, I'm more of a relationship kind of guy, but, Hollywood's not exactly monogamous. But, if the chance ever exposed itself, I'd definitely ask the heiress if she wanted to be my girl; provided we ever go on a first date.


»XXXXXXthe third layer

          yellowgreen
          fallenP0TAT0E__xx
 
     


umm . . . yer
 

LUCKY b***h,
a fallenP0TAT0E__xx and krisxbun private roleplay.
     


umm . . . yer






nicholas arthur sinclair
xxxxxxxTHE EDiTOR-iN-CHiEF





                                        Nicholas Sinclair (yes, the Nicholas Sinclair), sat in his very own swivel chair (it was the most comfortable chair in the building) while he watched his new favorite obsession from afar. Well, she wasn't quite an obsession; Nick didn't have obsessions. He had targets. Missions. And boy, was this proving to be a tricky one already. It had barely been a few hours, and already Nick's mind was being dominated with thoughts of the new girl. Annaliese Heaton. So far, all he knew about her was that she was a total diva; but, she had the talent in the modeling business to get away with it. The girl had been booked at every high-fashion magazine from New York to Paris. Not that any of that mattered to Nick. He was more interested in her. Her long legs, sexy curves and gorgeous face; the minute she'd walked into the office (he was flirting with the receptionist at the time), Nick had frozen, his mouth agape as his eyes followed her while she masterfully ignored his presence. And yet, Nick was still pretty sure he could induce a good swoon from her with just a simple 'hello'.

                                        This game took skill, though. He had been talking to her assistant for the last hour, learning all about how much of a primadonna she was. But, to be honest, Nick didn't care about that. In fact, it may have made it easier; treat her like a princess, and she's his. Seemed easy...in theory. He couldn't help but sneak a small peek when Annaliese slipped into her dress for one of the photos, of course, he couldn't really see that well from his distance; Nick didn't want her thinking he was some kind of stalker, right? When he found that she was now in the make up chair, all alone, Nicholas rose and began to make his gradual way towards her seat. He grinned when she yelled at the make up artists (who hadn't arrived yet). This girl wasn't going anywhere if Nicholas was concerned. He arrogantly assumed she wouldn't want to. Nicholas fancied himself as a master of calming down the ladies.

                                        Right before he maid it to her chair, Nick checked his breath; minty fresh as always. And his appearance? Well, that was perfect even when it wasn't groomed. "Hello, beautiful." Nick said smugly as stood behind her chair, leaning down so she could see his handsome face in the mirror opposite them. When he was sure she got a good look, Nick spun around her make up chair (which was also swivel, though, a lot less luxurious than his own). He grabbed hold of the bombshell's right hand and lifted it slightly so he could place a soft peck on the palm. "I'm Nick Sinclair, editor-in-cheif of GLAM." He said, trying not to come on to strong while the sight of Annaliese in such a revealing dress was driving him mad on the inside, and he had such a good view from above. Nick figured that telling her about his large power in the magazine would get him a little respect, and, possibly make her drop her panties a little quicker. But, what if she thought he was gay or something? Surely, he didn't believe it, but, there had been times...

                                        "I inherited it from my mother," He added casually as she let her soft fingers drop from his own. Nick's eyes studied Annaliese's body for a moment (rather obviously, actually). "Annaliese, yes?" He asked, knowing damn well who she was. "You know, if you're interested, I know a way you could bump that editorial into a cover shot as well," Nick said, it was never too early to get suggestive; at least not for him. "Come to dinner with me tonight? If you stay for breakfast, I assure you the cover shot," Nick grinned, both his arms on the rests of the chair, as non-threateningly as possible as if he failed, he wanted to keep this casual.
 
     


umm . . . yer
 

THE FUNERAL DATE
» ___________
a x fallenP0TAT0E__xx x and x l a d y _ t e r r o r x private production

( x a x v e g a s x s p i n - o f f x )
     


umm . . . yer
< 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10