Post by nicolette raquel davis on Mar 8, 2009 23:27:27 GMT -5
NICOLETTE RAQUEL DAVIS ,
T H E B A S I C S.
FULL NAME nicolette raquel davis
NICK NAMES nic, nico, rocky, davis; never nicky, it's what her mother refers to her as and she absolutely detests it
AGE & BIRTHDAY nineteen && may seventh
GENDER female
SEXUALITY bisexual
SITE POSITION local
T H E P E R S O N A L I T Y.
LIKES the rain, her baby brother, unicorns, punk rock interpretations of hip hop songs, all music in general, laughing, being tickled, cuddling, hugs, tattoos, pretending to skateboard, smoking, dancing at random moments of the day, boys and girls, dogs, sex, cards, kids, vinyl records, starbucks, purple, text messaging, 80’s hair metal, batman, cameras, night, musicians, concerts, drawing, bicycles, winter, unicorns, swimming, padiddle, awkward silences, living as much as she can, accents, ipods, swings, horror movies, zombies, older guys
DISLIKES june twenty seventh, crying, EMTs, guys in too much makeup, girls in more than too much makeup, traffic, yellow, spiderman, hospitals, her mother, lies, biting her nails, hangovers, the type of person defined in Say Anything’s song “ADMIT IT!” one night stands, criticism, people who take themselves too seriously, people who can’t take a joke, plane rides, English food, chapped lips, waking up, sneezing, coughing, mama’s boys, gambling, people who try to shove their opinions down her throat
STRENGTHS sweet, charismatic, caring, compassionate, laid-back, energetic
WEAKNESSES easy/promiscuous, low self esteem, wears her heart on her sleeve, naive, impulsive, panics easily
SECRETS she keeps everything about her past leading up to las vegas secret, this includes: her family life, her involvement with self-destructive behavior, her brother, etc; she has generalized anxiety disorder and panic disorder but is able to keep it all hidden from those around her
WRITTEN PERSONALITY
Nic has become quite an amazing actress; she has developed the ability to make people believe she is a happy, normal person, completely satisfied with her life. Every day she wears a mask, showing off her fake smiles and empty happiness. Nic is not anti-social, though she’d rather be alone she does make an effort to go and meet new people. It is usually a challenge for her, she has to muster up the courage before she puts herself on the line to meet someone new who could very well become either her new best friend or a new enemy whose only goal in life is to spite Nic. She does adore those people who approach her, finding it easier to socialize with them. She tries hard not to mess up first impressions, keeping that façade of being happy and content with life up at all times and never slipping in any comments about how she’s really feeling. To someone who would pass her by they would see some bubbly young girl, still unharmed by the world’s misfortunes. She really does try hard to act like this around everyone, even if she has established a friendship with someone. People seem to like her when she’s like that; she’s amiable, sociable and even though she hates to say it, fake. She really isn’t like that at all, only around new people, regular friends and just casual passer-bys.
She has extremely low self-esteem. Though her close friends try to reassure her by telling her she’s beautiful, smart, and funny everyday, she just can’t think of herself that way. She hasn’t been in any real relationship, she has wanted to be in one but either she or the other person denied that to happen. She hasn’t let it happen for fear of rejection, for fear of being broken hearted. She’s afraid of relationships, even more so since her last ‘relationship’, if one could even call it that. In a way she sort of hates herself. Whenever she looks in a mirror she finds herself scoffing at the person staring back at her. She dislikes the way she pretends to act, the way she really is, the way she looks. If she had to make a list of the things she doesn’t like about herself the only things she’d leave out are her lip ring and her hair. The line in The End by My Chemical Romance pertains to her perfectly.
‘If you look in the mirror, and don’t like what you see You can find out first hand what it’s like to be me…” If she could pick one word to describe herself it would be ‘average’. Someone once asked her to compare herself to an ice cream flavor and she picked vanilla; kind of boring, definitely lacking in glamour, nowhere near as good as the others. She’s not a genius but also not an idiot, pretty but not drop dead gorgeous, just average. She really believes she has nothing to offer to the world that someone else can, and possibly do it better.
She is your typical jaded, sardonic and bitter young woman. She can be generous and sweet at points and only around certain people. Usually its only around the people she holds closest to her, no one can come along and expect to make her smile. Around people she's never met she's cold and intimidating. Nic unintentionally shows a need to be the finest among her peers; even as a child she was seen to react aggressively when another child would surpass her. She was likely fouled by her peers as a young child. She is rather futile and was raised to believe that power and control are what make a person strong. She puts up a good fight, verbal and physical. She's not afraid to be a total pregnant dog and use her verbal and physical power to go after people.
Oh yes, she loves a good fight. Ever since she was a baby she’s fought everything. Even little things she’ll fight about if she’s bored. She’s very protective of her family and friends, if you even so much as think about assulting them or harming them in any way she will come down on you harder and faster than anything you could ever imagine. She’s spirited, assertive; she speaks up for herself and is aggressive. She doesn’t give up on anything without a fight. Ever since birth she’s been stubborn, she just doesn’t give up. Which can either be a good or a bad thing, take your pick.
Nic knows she is a beautiful girl, even when she was alive and had natural beauty she was incredibly vain. She is thrilled to be herself, to be Nic Davis. Ecstatic when she knows that every man's eyes in the room are following her and her long and entrancing blonde locks. She is tall and statuesque with a figure that is enough to rival any model's. She knows this and thrives off of it; if ever she has a rare period where she feels her beauty is not as strong all she needs to do is turn to her true love for reassurance and within minutes she will once again be glowing.
Once you get past her rough exterior though, she can be rather sweet if she really wants to, though that never happens around those she doesn't trust. She constantly has others blushing and likes to point out the good in those close to her, especially when they are having their down days. She loves to make others laugh, it was a talent she discovered she had early on in life. Nic will flaunt this talent as much as she can, just to see others laugh. Something about seeing people laugh makes her feel good about herself in a way that lingering glances don't, like she can actually have a positive affect on someone. It’s little things like that that make her happy, small surprises or small things that most people would just pass by in their usual day. If someone just said something like “I’m glad I know you,” she’d brighten up and feel good about herself even as a vampire.
T H E H I S T O R Y.
PARENTS Her mother's name is Charlize Davis, she is only forty one and works part time as a waitress when she isn't snorting lines off of a bathroom floor or blowing some dealer for a ten minute high. Nic's father's name is Brett Carrows and he is fifty one and has been a cop for almost thirty years. The last time Nic saw her father she was only seven days old.
SIBLINGS Nic's brother's name is Jarrett and he is the most important person in her life. She loves him to death and wishes she could be around for him but feels as if she would inflict more harm unto him rather than be supportive and a healthy factor in his life. He is only eight years old and Nic wishes desperately that he will make something of his life.
OTHER IMPORTANT FIGURES Jasey Davis, Charlize's mother making her Nic's grandmother. She served more as a motherly role in her life and did slightly better than she did with Charlize. She is sixty six and is a nurse, a damn good one at that.
PETS n/a
HOMETOWN Detroit, MI
WRITTEN HISTORY
Life never started so late for others. A pulse had never began to beat like the ticking clock so late in someone’s life. Her life didn’t begin until her last attempt to seek pleasure from the searing pain of life and from the blade, dragged across her arm so deep that she could hear it glide along the bone. Her life didn’t begin until the hot red stained the porcelain bath tub, her cheek and light hair taking the same color. Her life started when her little brother walked into the now quiet room, filled with that familiar stench of blood and death. You should have heard his scream.
What is a mother other than a female unit that gives birth to an offspring? Could someone who just did that and nothing more really be considered a mother? Nic never believed so, hence why she refused to use the title “mom” whenever she addressed Charlize. The woman was near useless, spending more money on her drugs than she would ever dream of spending on her children. She would raid medicine cabinets, kitchen cabinets, any type of cabinet or container when alone in a room for downers. Those little things were just so expensive, too expensive for her to be able to afford on her own. Her personal favorite was Prozac, Prozac and Ativan, Cymbalta was always a nice little treat from time to time; Valium was always a nice was to lay low for a little while. She got to a point where downing a half a bottle of those every once in a while with a fifth of Jack would knock her right out so that she would wake up to a cop’s foot in her side, her own vomit covering her and mixing with her hair on the corner. Poor cop didn’t know whether to help her, arrest her or vomit himself. So he did all three in the latter order, taking her into the station and from there having her carted from the hospital.
Though she wasn’t always looking to the white tablets to help her relax. She needed something else to deal with her Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Panic Disorder. She knew she wouldn’t ever be able to afford her own prescriptions, having to get them refilled at least once a week, being the reason why she’d always turn to anyone else’s. Once in a while that sweet green weed would help her to relax and breathe for a few hours, but nothing was ever as fun as riding that big H train. Except in poor little Charlize’s case it was more like standing on the tracks and watching wide-eyed as the train would tumble at her and impact her, leaving her in the street covered in her own vomit, unconscious and yet still with that beautiful charm somewhere about her that the cop could somehow see underneath it all.
He sat with her in the hospital when they dispatched her, and stayed with her for every minute. Brett always had a passion for lost causes and this one was no different. He promised to be there for her if she ever needed someone to talk to, and every time he saw her she looked even better from the last, like she was getting over her past addictions. She wasn’t. She was just getting better at hiding them from the attractive man with a fairly deep wallet. To Brett, Charlize was a love interest; to Charlize, he was just there to get what she needed, a few bucks here and there and a few nights a week at his apartment. All until she found out she was expecting, then there was that lovely chat where she was forced to tell him and expect him to leave her right there. He didn’t though, he was man enough to promise to stay with her and their baby and then leave within the week that Nicollette was born.
Nic always wondered if her father stood over her, looking into her pale blue eyes and thinking about how they had just given birth to the most insignificant fuck-up of generation Y.
Her mother wasn’t even her mother, but Nic still felt that bond to her as she grew up at Grandma’s house being raised by the woman who had never done anything wrong by Charlize. She slept in the same room as her mother did on a twin bed opposite a matching mattress that was only filled two out of the seven nights of the week, sometimes not even that much.
Her grandmother tried as hard as she could to save Nic from the life that her daughter had chosen to live but by the time the attractive and vulnerable girl hit high school she knew she had failed. Though Nic had her own plans for herself, her grand mother could believe anything that she wanted, Nic would not allow that to happen. Nic cared more about her brother, Jarrett (who had turned two by the time she was beginning high school, the product of a one night stand) and taking care of him, she cared more about doing something with her brain rather than doing something to it. Though she did take a liking to the party scene. Every night, after tucking him into the bed that used to belong to their mother in the room he shared with Nic, she would prance off to whomever’s house and be the girl who stayed her distance from the drugs and alcohol but was rather close with the boys and even the girls. Every night was a process, take care of her brother, go out, come back in to see Carlize either collapsed on the floor or not even around and get a few hours of sleep.
Jarrett was still too young to realize much, still holding on to that bond he thought he had with his mother. He had no idea that she cared more about her next fix than she did her children. By now, Nic did understand, at the rightful age of seventeen she understood a lot more than to regard her as a mother, or even to regard her as family. She was well on track, close to a scholarship before she lay Jarrett down one night to have him say to her, without realizing what he was saying “You look just like mommy,”
Nic wanted nothing to do with mommy and looking just like her, looking just like her was the equivalent to being just like her. Nic had the same anxiety problems and panic attack problems that Charlize had turned to downers for, except Nic chose to ignore them and never approach anyone. Her fear was that if she had a prescription Charlize would take a sudden interest in her daughter and somehow they would become the same person. Instead, to silence the shrieking demons in her head she would turn to the bathroom where she would ever so strategically and discretely take a razor blade to her wrists.
Life never started so late for others. A pulse had never began to beat like the ticking clock so late in someone’s life. Her life didn’t begin until her last attempt to seek pleasure from the searing pain of life and from the blade, dragged across her arm so deep that she could hear it glide along the bone. Her life didn’t begin until the hot red stained the porcelain bath tub, her cheek and light hair taking the same color. Her life started when her little brother walked into the now quiet room, filled with that familiar stench of blood and death. You should have heard his scream.
She lay in her pooled blood, the hot red everywhere, staining everything. She didn’t remember much, just her grandmother begging Nic to tell her it was a mistake and the blaring red and blue lights. She only woke up to more lights, more lights and her new prescription that she refused to take. She knew what would happen is she did, she would just turn out like Charlize and start to pop them like they were going out of style. Instead of easing them into her system like they should have done, her grandmother and the hospital staff made a joint decision to ship the girl to a treatment center.
Nic did not approve, screaming “I hate you” all the hallway as two men in white scrubs dragged the flailing girl to her room. The place wasn’t a treatment center, it was a five star resort that did nothing but hold group therapy sessions between spa treatments to reach that title. She didn’t need to be here, she wouldn’t try to cut that deep ever again. If she didn’t die the first time, what would make her thing that she would die the next time. She spent her month though, taking her pills every time she was required to and as soon as she was out of the center, she tossed them into the nearest trash can she could find.
Nic could not return home, she couldn’t walk past that bathroom with that pink stain on the floor and on the porcelain. Instead of driving home she drove to the bank, pulled out all of her money and ran. She needed to go somewhere so anti-Detroit, to the other side of the world if she had to, and the first place she thought of was the one and only Sin City.
B E H I N D T H E S C E N E S.
YOUR ALIAS HALEY !
YOUR AGE eighteen
THE EXPERIENCE five years
CODE SAYING admin edit
OTHER CHARACTERS not yet but i'll be adding one really soon
ANYTHING ELSE ... i'm obsessed with bmth and a7x??? fair warning
