Post by BIRDIE DANIELS on Jul 25, 2009 23:56:14 GMT -6
BIRDIE MAY DANIELS
[/font]She's an angel in flight
In a blink of an eye
She'll be out of your sight
Something about a southern girl
bad cop:
for the record - state your name and any aliases you go by.
"Birdie May Daniels. Yes, that is my real name. Mama always said I reminded her of a bird when I was born. Now, I don't know how a newborn baby reminds anyone of a bird of all things, but that's what she says."
state your age. [pauses] your real age, smartass.
"You probably won't believe me, but I really am twenty two. I know I look younger. Arnette Langford, my neighbor back home, she still asks me how high school is going, bless her heart."
state your occupation or what you consider it to be.
"A salesperson at the mall, I work in one of them department stores. It isn't anything glamorous, only a lot of folding and lying that makes my conscience act up. It just bothers my heart to sell people clothes that make them look like my Great Aunt Pauline on a bad day. [blushes] I shouldn't have said that. Lord knows she tries to dress nice, but she cain't help it that she's half blind and bigger than a pig."
good cop:
so what was it like growing up with a family like yours?
"Gosh. I don't even know where to begin on my family. I guess I should say, first of all, that it's awful big. Mama is the youngest of five, and Daddy's right in the middle of nine. We've got more people in our family than I care to count. We're like rabbits. [grimaces] Well, no, we're not, but every reunion is bigger than the one before, what with us getting older and bringing our own families to 'em. My immediate family is the exception, it's just my parents and me and my sister. We get along alright, same as any other sisters, I suppose. We fight every now and then, but I like to think that we're close.
"I mean, I tried to include her when we were in high school. [smiles] High school was fun, some people say that they didn't like those four years, but I cain't imagine why. Maybe they got all bent outta shape working on those homework assignments. Never did too many of those. [laughs] I was busy with things I thought were more important, like all my friends' problems. I had lots of friends in high school, haven't seen too much of 'em since, most have gone on off to college and important jobs, but sometimes we call each other and catch up. Guess I've always been more interested in other people than educating myself.
"That's why I didn't go to college. After I graduated it didn't seem like something I'd do, my grades were average, nothing special. Money wasn't too much of an issue, Mama kept telling me that the student loans wouldn't be too bad, but... [sighs] I just... It wasn't somethin' I was meant to do, if that makes any sort of sense. I been out here in the City of Angels, always thought that was the prettiest name, since I was nineteen. Great Aunt Pauline, the porcine one I mentioned earlier, was in a sorry state. With her old bones she's usually laid up in bed, but she has her moments, usually on bingo night. Anyway, she wanted someone to move here and help her out every now and then. I didn't have anything better to do, and people kept asking me about college, so I thought, why not? Been living here ever since."
thank you for offering up that information. so share with me something personal about you.
"Why'd you wanna know somethin' like that? I'm nothing like those celebrities in the magazines, I'm just boring ol' Birdie. I guess I'll tell you, if you do really want to know. First of all, I am a people-person. I tend to get along with just about everbody, probably helps that I don't like to be alone all that much. Whenever I'm at my apartment I've gotta have the radio on or something, otherwise it's just too quiet. Unsettles me like nothing else in this world.
"People back home always told me that I was too good-hearted, too trusting. [shakes head] There aren't enough warm hearts in the world, if I've got to do more of my share to make up for others it's alright with me. I can be gullible and manipulated, I know that, but I'd rather see the good in other people than focus on the bad. What does that help, anyway? I've always been a bit of an optimist, it takes a lot to ruffle my feathers.
"When someone's set me a job, it's my policy to do my best. I admit that I do get distracted by my friends occasionally, but I do try to my work done. I'm not a big risktaker though. That's probably a little obvious, what with the college an' all. Optimistic thoughts just cain't get me to take risks that might seriously affect me. Playing it safe may be a little boring, but it won't lead you astray."
bad cop:
so what fancy things can you do? be specific, punk.
"What I can do, it scared half to death first time I did it. I was having some problems with a box of matches, my hands went ablaze, and the whole thing caught on fire. That was years ago, I've got more control of it now. I can create fire in my hands, and I can move it. It'd be more useful if I was bad sort of person, it's plain that if I'm not careful I could hurt someone. I use it for little things mostly, like lighting my gas stove. When I practice, and I still do that, I can make it real big, almost like a bonfire, but it gets away from me more easily the bigger it gets. When I get angry, which, come to think of it, doesn't happen very often, sparks come out of my fingers. Nothing too special, right?"
i bet you think you’re the best, huh? better than everyone else.
"No, sir, not all. Lots of people are smarter than I am. Stronger, too. I don't have a problem with anyone, everybody has their place in this world, and they're just trying to find it like everyone else. I try to give everyone their fair chance in my mind."
good cop:
so what are your likes and dislikes?
"I have a soft spot in my heart for sewing. Now don't get me wrong, I enjoy embroidery too, but what I really like is altering and making clothes. I've been trying to learn how to knit for Lord knows how long. I can stand being alone if I'm working on one of my projects. This may be redundant, but I like people a whole lot. Being around other human beings and getting to know them is such a blessing, I like to make friends with all kinds of different people. I do dislike it when I get asked about why I didn't go to college. They have a right to know, but it can grow tiresome. I'm not a big reader or TV watcher, but Great Aunt Pauline likes me to read her romance novels and watch soap operas with her. I like those just fine. I don't like those scary movies that her neighbor watches though, why would anyone want to watch someone die? It just escapes me as to how that is entertaining."
i’m wondering – do you have any distinguishing features?
"I may work in a department store, but I sure don't get my clothes from there. Second hand stores, and places that call themselves vintage are where I find most of my wardrobe. I make my own alterations, and I like to look at those fancy magazines for inspiration, but I usually don't need it. I've got my own ideas when it comes to clothes. Another thing you've probably noticed is my hair. [bites lip] I burnt half of it off a few months ago, and this haircut just seems more practical. It does make me look like a boy though, I'm tall, and I'm not exactly...[blushes] Well, I don't have... I'm not too well endowed. Next question?"
so, are you seeing anyone special? or have anyone in mind?
"Not right now. I dated lotsa boys in high school. Most for only a few months, but I was with Bobby for almost a year. He's at Yale now, says he's gonna be the next president. I'm not to sure if I'm gonna vote for him though, he knows how to break a girl's heart, if you know what I mean."
are you sure you don’t want some coffee, BIRDIE?
"That sounds real nice. Do you have sugar and creamer? I'm positively parched."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
NAME/ALIAS: Kira
AGE: Fifteen
RP EXPERIENCE: Going on four years now, I believe. :3
ANY OTHER CHARACTERS?: None, yet.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE: In case you need a little back-story, the following is from a hospital roleplay and Twyla is a published author who has Bipolar Disorder.
The waiting room in the ER was as familiar as ever. A groan punctuated the shaky quiet every now and then, and the nurse at the front desk was looking harried, just like normal. After signing in awkwardly with her left hand, Twyla sank into one of the chairs with a relieved sigh. Thinking back to all of her previous visits, she couldn't help but wonder how much time she had spent in hospitals. She'd ratcheted up quite a lot of time over the years with her countless bumps and bruises, though she suspected that the doctors could easily win in the game of time spent at hospitals. Shaking her head of pointless thoughts, Twyla adjusted her right arm on the arm rest to a more comfortable position. It was covered in ice packs and gauze, and thanks to the wonders of painkillers and experience seemed to be aching dully instead of the pain that was usually attributed to broken or fractured bones.
It seemed as if it would be a long wait, Twyla could easily see that she wasn't the most hurt in the room by far. A gun shot victim sat opposite her, his pallid face in stark contrast to the redness pouring out of his shoulder, and to her left a little boy was wheezing and coughing in his worried parents arms. There were others in the room as well, but the young woman didn't bother to look at them closely, she was confident she had seen every type of injury that could possibly go through the ER. Instead, she popped open her laptop and clicked open a forum her readers had made for her to keep in touch with. Typing slowly and left-handedly, Twyla informed her readers of her latest injury and the adventure at the hospital so far, assuring them that she wouldn't stop working on her latest book, no matter what, as an ending note. Indulging in a small smile, she knew that she would get replies soon enough.
She switched over to the Word document that held her newest novel, and reread the last few paragraphs she had written, trying to get into the writing frame of mind. Feeling inspiration take hold of her, Twyla's left hand danced over the keyboard at a snails pace, prose gradually appearing on the screen. As she created more of her story, her mind couldn't help but dredge up the thought that with high highs came low lows. She'd had the high, but the low was yet to come. She visibly shivered, not looking forward to the next few hours in the slightest.