for every 99 times

[Auralia Hayley Bownier]

auralia hayley bownier !
I feel like i am all alone, all by myself
i need to get around this. my words
are cold, i don't want them to hurt
you If I show you, I don't think
you'd understand - - - - - - - - -

THE DAY WE MET WAS LIKE A HIT AND RUN
and i still taste it on my tongue

[/b][/color] auralia hayley bownier
nickname(s): lia
age: seventeen
sexuality: straight
job: n/a
gender: female.
[/font][/size][/ul]

THE SKY WAS BURNING UP LIKE FIREWORKS
you made me want you oh so bad it hurts

[/b][/color] 5'8"
body type: slim/slender
hair and eyes: Her hair is a light, fair blond, and her eyes are a startling emerald green.
clothing style: Auralia likes to dress as inconspicuous as possible. She hates anything flashy or anything that can draw attention, and prefurs to stick to jeans and a hoodie. On a good day, she'll wear cargo shorts, a white tee, and her favorite black vans.
overall appearance: Auralia Hayley Bownier. How to describe such a beautiful, beautiful girl... She’s striking, that’s for sure, with her shining, golden-blonde hair, and those piercing green eyes of hers. She stands at a slightly taller than average height of 5’8”, with a powerful and hostile stature. Her long legs are often covered with old, worn out Levi’s jeans, her slender torso usually sheltered by a white tee or a dark colored hoodie. Lia prefers to stay out of sight and out of mind from everyone—especially the cops. That’s why she wears all dark clothes and loads of eye liner.[/font][/size][/ul]

I USED TO BE LOVE DRUNK
but now i'm hungover

[/b][/color] cigarettes, coffee, shelter, cloudy but not rainy days, money, selling drugs, knives, little dog, bracelets, music(e.i. guitar, songwriting, ect.)
dislikes: cops, rainy days, the cold, her dad, her older sister, locks, home, Boston, doing drugs, people with perfect lives, happy people, sluts, pimps, clubs, her mom
habits: smoking, talking to her dog, selling drugs, cutting, drinking coffee
secrets: she ran away from home, she’s a drug dealer
personality: Auralia has got some serious issues. She’s a loner, that’s for sure, and is in desperate need of guidance. She’s pissed off at the world, and the only one she shows affection to is her dog. She’s touch and won’t take crap from anyone, and if anyone tries to give her crap, she’d cave their face in. She doesn’t like to be seen or known about, so she tends to stick to ally ways, old, beat down, and abandoned buildings. When she’s not slipping through shadows, she’s slinking around with her hood up and trying to hide her face from the world. When she speaks with someone, it’s usually in a very hard, cold, and clipped business like tone. She doesn’t usually socialize unless it’s selling drugs. She’s addicted to smoking and cutting herself, but the cutting isn’t because of depression. To her, they’re battle scars of survival, not signs of her depressing weakness. In fact, she’s just an angry, angry girl, and tends to take it out on herself and others. She’s doesn’t cut often, and it’s not too serious, but she does have some pretty nasty scars across both her arms. She’s never opened up to anyone in her entire life—never. Accept for maybe Cinderfella, her quite feminine male mutt of a dog.
play-by: Natasha Bedingfield.[/font][/size][/ul]

YOU DROVE ME CRAZY EVERY TIME WE TOUCHED
now i'm so broken that i can't get up

[/b][/color] Luceile/32/Topless Bartender
father: Rob/54/none[/u]
siblings: Macy/12/none
other family: Cinderfella (dog below)

history: Born on January 18th, 1991 to Luceile Clark. Luceile had only been seventeen when she gave birth to little Auralia, and Luci’s mother named the little girl, due tot eh fact that even though she wouldn’t put her up for adoption, she didn’t want anything to do with her. So years went by and she was mostly brought up by her grandma while she received only hateful words and spiteful glares from her mother. Yeah. It hurt. Finally, when Luci was twenty two and Auralia was five, she got married to a very much older man named Rob. He was twenty-two years older than her, but she married him for the sex and money. Soon, her “father” became very sexually abusive to the still very, very young Auralia, teaching her to never, ever ask for help, or either he’ll kill her, or that she’s weak and stupid. She was emotionally abused by her mother all the time after her loving grandma died, and she was left alone with them. Then, sooner or later, Macy was born. At first, Auralia was glad to have the attention away from her—but her relief was soon forgotten when they began to forget to feed her, or even yell at her. She finally took a stand for herself, but not against them, and started to take care of herself at a very, very young age. She didn’t go to school, though, because she didn’t have time to. She was too busy selling drugs, even at her age, to get money for the food her mother and sexually abusive father weren’t providing. She got into smoking, and cutting to prove that she could survive anything. She became a very cold, angry girl, snapping at even her “parents”. She was getting violent with others and herself, and loathed the little brat of a half sister. So time wore on when finally, her “father” tried to actually rape her. She freaked, scared, and almost two minutes after the rape—she stabbed him. Right as she stabbed him, she bolted into her attic bedroom, grabbed random clothes into a trash bag, and grabbed a necklace that her loving grandma had given her and ran. To this day, she doesn’t know if she actually killed the man—she suspects he still lives. This is why she hides, knowing if he did live, he would have reported her to the police. So, she’s homeless and sells drugs for food and her best friend: a strangely feminine male bloodhound named Cinderfella. She calls him Fella.[/font][/size][/ul]

I'M CHECKING INTO REHAB
cause everything that we had didn't mean a thing to you

[/b][/color] Auralia
role-playing experience: five years
age: 18
secret phrase: I hope ya weren't lookin' for a spoiler! ;]
anything else: nope.
RP sample:
It never used to be like this. I never used to spend nights like this, wandering alone in this midnight dark night. I never used to wear a stark black trench coat, hood up, blonde hair tucked in. I never used to wear black combat boots so no one would recognize me. I never used to be forced to wear long gloves all the time to cover up the fucking scars. I never used to keep my hands shoved in my pockets, staring at nothing as I walked, blending intot he darkness because I had no interest in anything else. I never used to be this way. I would never hurt a fly before not to long ago. That had all changed, though. It had spun on a time, leaving me and my world flipped upside down and completely oblitorated. Why? I'd prefur not to talk about it, for as long as I can avoid it. My life was ruined, gone, destroyed, all because of one stupid mistake. Was it my fault? I sure hope not. But that's the worst part: not knowing. It the fact that I'm not sure if I could have prevented it or not that's really killing me. It's the fact that I'm not sure if I could have kept him here, with me, by my side, for the rest of our lives, that's really destroying me. It's the fact that I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say sorry or not that's eating me alive. I hate not knowing.

So, in silence, in solitary silence, I walked on. I made no sound as my boots made contact with the shadows grass. I avoided the illuminated patches of light where the sun created a silver halo over everything it touched. i didn't want the light. i didn't want enjoyment. Not without him. I could never enjoy anything without him. Never. I needed him to be happy. It was a form of a punishment for myself, for letting it haappen--in case it was my fault. I was never allowed to enjoy anything again, unless it was to aveng him. The only thing I would ever enjoy was killing that fucking bastard, Seraph, and the little cult surround him, those people who worshipped him. i refused to believe that he was anything like them. he had to have been hanging out with them to figure out why they were there, and he found out, so they killed him. It was the only explination, right? or did he leave because I'd said something terrible and i didn't even know it? There it was again. Not knowing. I could have kicked myself and I walked on. I hated thinking, but else could I do? Tonight, someone else was assigned to getting information about the Cult. They told me to take a break for the night. They didn't understand--work was what I lived for. i needed work. It's what kept me sane. it was all i had left of him, knowing that somehow, some way, I would avenge my fiance.

I suddenly found myself out in the open, at the concrete. Moonlight lit everything, the few loose strands of blond hair I had, my trench coat, my boots, my hood, the edge of my black gloves sticking out from my pockets. I thought I would enjoy it, and I grew fearful for a moment... but then realized-- i wasn't enjoying myself. I felt more hallow, more lonely, than I had in months. I still remember his dying words. He'd told me he'd always be with me. So, if he was still with me, if he still loved me enough to wait for me... why couldn't I feel him? Where was he? I could feel that familiar pain building up in my chest--this physical pain I could describe to no one. It cut my breath short, making it almost impossible to breath. it was like this gaping, burning hole, preventing me from breathing, from feeling anything but that empty space where Domonique was supposed to be. I could feel nothing but the fact that my Dom was missing.

My arms wrapped tightly around my torso, feeling tears build up in my eyes. No. I never cried. Crying was pointless, now. it wouldn't fix anything, it wouldn't make me feel better. it would just make me feel even more hallow, with nothing there--nothing left. I took shallow, quick breathes, trying to keep myself from falling, trying to put myself back together. I couldn't fall apart now. I couldn't fall apart ever. I had to stay put together until the Cult was totally gone and dead. Then, after that, I could fall apart. I could fall apart and never come back. i could leg go after then--or let myself go. The thought of everything dissapearing until i was in Dom's arms again was comforting. I could feel the numbness wrapping itself over me again as I thought of the fact that soon, this would all be over. Soon, all would be right again. Soon, i would be dead.

I took a deep breath, never fully satisfying, and pulled my hood down. I pulled my long, blonde hair from under my coat so it fell against my stark black coat. It was a startling contrast between the gold of my hair and the black of the trench, but i didn't care. i didn't care about anything but ridding this world of the cult who had killed Domonique forever. Finally, i turned around, putting on that angry, hardened mask of mine, one that had become my default. I was angry, I was mean, I was hurt, and I was impassive. That's how I had to be if i wanted to make the end. I had to go out in style, right?

I suddenly froze, startled to see a boy--more or less man--sitting at the fountain. My heart froze in my chest, my breath catching my throught. i knew who that was. it was Vincent, and i was Gemma. We were both in the Activists group. He knew me. Everyone knew me. i couldn't help but feel horrified that would see me here, at the park, seeing me in such a mess. My eyes were still red and puffy from the almost-sob session, and i suddenly felt afraid. had he seen my almost-break-down? Had he seen my pathetic display of emotion? I was afraid of him, i realized. i was afraid of what's he'd do, what'd he'd say... People in Activists group were aggressive, too, so would he see me as not fit to be in the Activists? Would he hurt me? God, if he even slapped me, my bones would shatter. I shuddered at the thought.

I didn't say anything, though. I just stood there, waiting, watching, I refused to make the first move. I didn't show my fear, i only showed thtat default mask of mine, the only thing that kept people convinsed that I wasn't planning on killing myself, and that I wasn't hurting myself. Everyone knew I was depressed, but so what? What could anyone do about it?
[/font][/size][/ul]