Post by CASSANDRA ELISE GARNIER on Apr 29, 2011 22:45:58 GMT -5
-- cass elise jackson.
[/size][/i]twenty. female. pansexual. prostitute. regular.[/center]
HISTORY. She prefers to go by Cass, because that is her name. Cassandra is long and elaborate and it's annoying to write out. Her parents called her Cassandra, and she hated them. She's not exactly sure where they are now, though, which is really a burden off her shoulders.
Born in September.
PERSONALITY. Although though she is unable to perform magick herself, she finds it extremely fascinating.
APPEARANCE. She's doll-like; all blonde hair and blue eyes and a heart-shaped face.
Tall, standing at around 5'8'' and a half, with thin shoulders that slope down into nothing: she wastes away, without funds for proper feeding, and honestly without the resolution to fix that problem. So you get rolling ribs and prominent hip bones. Purple nails due to malnutrition and a jutted chin. Last time she checked, her weight was around one hundred and seventeen.
( it is not so uncommon for people to starve anymore, especially outside the safehaven )
Her wide-set eyes show expressions like anger and grief, and her pupils are often dilated on a high, or pinpoints of stone. But the the emotions wink out in an instant, like candles, as soon as she bottles her feelings away, or takes them out on someone else, and then she turns despondent again. They're framed by wispy eyelashes and thin, light eyebrows that match the color of her hair. Her hair itself is a bit more vivid, honey colored, although it can turn almost platinum under the sun. She usually lets it loose around her shoulders, where it ends up falling down her back in waves, or she pulls it up into a bun: although many strands end up escaping their bonds. She keeps it clean with borrowed showers when she can, although sometimes she'll find pesky sparkles or confetti in it that she hasn't been able to snuff out.
Her nose is blunt and slightly upturned, which serves to enhance the elvish appearance of her ears. They point at the tips, which is noticeable when she tucks her hair behind them.
How she carries herself varies greatly, depending on how she feels, or rather, what she's been doing. Sober enough, and she'll walk tall, either very fast (if she has somewhere to go) or very slow (if she doesn't). She rarely slouches, even though she's on the taller side, and this is really due to her inner perfectionist. Erase any flaws... flaws mean weakness, and the fact that she's constantly under scrutiny physically, it has become habit to strive to look decent when she is alert enough to actually think about it. Her air of confidence is undermined by her air of exclusivity, but even that plays second to her air of hostility. This is as relaxed as she gets on the streets (during the day at least), and a friendly stranger here or there will most likely be ignored. Well, unless they spill their coffee on her, or bump into her, or shoot her looks. Then they'll fall victim to the flaring anger and a winding trail of swear words that whisper in her breath like smoke.
The hilarious thing about Cass's aggression is that she's no where near the state of actually being able to injure another human being. Sure, she'll throw a few punches or something, but will-power is no match for her lack of muscle, stamina, and endurance. And that... doesn't really help her deal with things like drunken fights in the red-light district, when conflict strikes up wherever someone stands on a corner that they don't work, or if they smudge your lipstick across your cheeks. Then the fists fly, and hair is torn by painted fingernails... she doesn't stand a chance like that, and so the saying goes her 'bark is worse than bite'.
Despite that, her confidence skyrockets and the hostility falls all the way down to her feet (literally speaking) when she drinks, to the point where stupidity takes over and she gets in fights and flings herself into beds for free. And even after the bruising the next day dotting her body from flailing knees and knuckles, when she wakes up under foreign sheets to a bowl of cereal with a smiling stranger, that is not convincing enough to keep the liquor away. Combine that with heavy drugs and old 'friends', and you have a dangerous cycle that is so familiar, it occurs constantly.
( and sometimes it feels like it never stops, and she can't live without it )
Cosmetics are something that come with the job; ... lipstick, mascara, and foundation. Then maybe some blush, eyeliner, eyeshadow, toner and highlights, concealer, even nail polish.
That being said she only goes the whole distance with the stuff at night, when she's actually working, and when she is still attentive enough to get properly ready. Other times she fucks around and forgets to glam it up before making her way to the alley. But honestly, even crimson lips can be hard to spot in the dead of night, when potential clients make their rounds. Sometimes, they don't even look at you before motioning to hop in the car. During the day, she wears a bit more minimal. Her complexion is fairly clear, something she got over within her earlier teens, although she's extremely pale and burns easily under the London sun.
( the light of the sun... )
There's a beauty mark about the size of a miniature bead, or a small pill, on the bottom of her left cheekbone that usually disappears under the make up. The only time you might see it is when she isn't wearing any, but even then, it's easy to miss.
( but the burning sensation she gets under the redlight alley sears a lot worse )
Her clothes switch up as she finds things lying around friend's shacks, or given outerwear of sorts by the occasional employer, when they feel as if their compassion sets them apart (or when they feel like that makes them a better person after the night). Lots of torn t-shirts that usually started out that way, a pair of denim shorts and a few stockings. dDon't need much, until it starts getting colder. She used to own a jacket, but that was left in some bludhound's limo a while back. Sleepwear is well... a tank top, sure. And possibly a pair of shorts. No nightgowns or pajama pants though, seeing as those are a bit more bulky and therefore harder carry if need be.
kara. 4. gold. frida gustavsson.
