FROST, Madeline Elizabeth

[madeline]

Character Name: Madeline Elizabeth Frost
Nickname(s): Maddy
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Grade: Junior
Former School: Transfer
Sexuality: Straight
Clique: Hipster
Weight: 117
Height: 5'1
Appearence:

Madeline’s hair is a warm, vivid yet natural copper tone, the strands being accompanied by subtle highlights. The naturally wavy strands cascade just below her bust, the back layers reaching a little further. She has heavy layers throughout, the shortest being on the top layer, though often twisting into the longer layers. Overgrown bangs reach just below her chin, and are swept to the side from the left of her scalp and being tucked behind the right ear. Her most common hairstyle is most definitely her natural hair, each strand being separated into a beachy wave. If it’s not wavy, then it’s been straightened. Only on rare occasions will she curl her hair, even if it’s just a loose, casual style. Here and there she’ll pull half of her hair back, mainly just to the hair out of her face. She’ll never allow her bangs to fall over her eyes though, she can’t stand the feeling.

Now on to her eyes. Well…these are just as vivid in color, yet more unusual. You don’t have to get too close to recognize the liquid silver irises, the outsides being framed in a thin line of a darker color. Occasionally she’ll line her eyes with a subtle layer of eye shadow and/or eyeliner, the colors of the eye shadow ranging from black to a deep teal, to a rich violet. She’ll also coat her eyelashes thinly with mascara. Her facial expressions heavily affect the appearance of her eyes. When she smiles…she always smiles with her eyes, the grin adding a bit of a sparkle. When she is angry, she can tend to look a little spooky…just don’t get on her bad side. When her expression is neutral, then she seems open and friendly.

Madeline’s skin is a fair tone, the skin being pale, though even throughout with a very light blush to the apples of her cheeks. Her porcelain skin stretches over long, slender limbs and lean muscles. Just below her left knee, just to the right, there is a reddened scar, still clearly resembling the dog bite she had received two years back. Her lips are a natural soft rosy pink, and slightly plump. Her eyebrows are a thin line, a slight curve to the arch, and a little darker than her hair. She has long, slender fingers with delicate fingertips. Her bust is full, just filling b-cups, her waist narrow, and somewhat slim hips, curving to form a very light coke-bottle shape. Her shoulders are proportional to her height, and square, resting with a very slight slope from her neck.

Personality:

Madeline is the sort that will welcome anyone to talk to her unless they’ve wronged her or a friend of hers without regret, shame, or apology. In the circumstance that someone does approach her after offending her, she’ll either ignore them, snap at them, or tell them off…she isn’t afraid to scream at someone in the school halls, crowded with quite a few other curious eyes. Just don’t get on her bad side and you should be fine.
If you do agitate her, keep in mind that she holds grudges, very easily. Also, she rarely minces her words.

Another obvious characteristic of hers is that she loves music. If the guitar case under her right arm wasn’t obvious, nor the singing, or even the mp3 always hooked up to her ears, then who knows how else you’ll figure it out. If you were to browse through her play list, you would find a variety of genres and artists, from Yael Naim to Rihanna, or Shakira to Tiesto. Although her favorite genre on her play list is definitely, without, rock. Just about any type of rock, such as Tool, A Perfect Circle, Escape the Fate, Evanescence, Disturbed, ect.

Some things you may not figure out as quickly are her love of trying new things. She absolutely loves experimenting with new activities or tastes. Another would be that she is extremely hands-on, thus her love of the labs in science, as well as the projects in art.

One of her worst traits would have to be her short temper. It doesn’t take much to make her snap. She’s also extremely stubborn, and at times, can go a little too far in what she says. Often she won’t even apologize for it. Ah…and she also has a dirty mouth. She doesn’t throw “fuck” in wherever she can, but she does swear, most often to get her point across. Also, she is extremely secretive. If certain topics are brought up, not even meant to be about her, she gets extremely uncomfortable.

History:

"Hmm…where should I start? You aren’t really specifying on how much you want to know huh? Whatever. For starts, I was the first and only child born into a slightly dysfunctional family. See…my mother, who was previously a heavy druggie, married an alcoholic, a binge drinker. I grew up around a drunk and a recovering meth-addict. The house we lived didn’t deny our lifestyle, in the least. The house was the color of a dim brown, almost like a tan, with the paint peeling from a previously white exterior. The wall was covered in moss, the lawn always dead and the bushes and few trees in the front and back yard barely getting by. The person that had lived here before must have been quite the gardener. Throughout my time spent at the house alone, I would imagine the green grass, the empty flowerbeds filled with an array of different colored blossoms, and the bushes trimmed and the leaves bright green. I imagined the summer sun painting the garden an even brighter color, with clear contrast between shadow and light. I could even imagine the sweet smells of fresh cut grass, we soil, and fragrant flowers. My passion for gardening and nature developed and thrived ever since I can remember.

For the most part, my childhood consisted of occupying myself in my room, sometimes even feeding myself, while my parents went on with their business. When it came to school, I would wake up in the morning, get myself ready, walk to the bus stop, work hard in class, return home, complete homework, then do whatever I wanted. I was allowed to walk anywhere I wanted, hang out with who I wanted, eat what I wanted, and even drink what I wanted. I can honestly say that my parents weren’t the ideal parent figures. The first time I swore, it was a typical day in school. I was playing on the playground with my friends, while the recess staff kept watch nearby. Before I knew it, I was fighting with one of the other kids, and finally screamed “Shut the hell up!” I cringed as I felt one of the staff’s eyes snap to me. Within five minutes I was sitting in the principals office, my head down and hands held tightly under my legs. When my mother came in, she gave the typical, “I’ll talk to her. I apologize again sir” to the principal, and took me home. No more was said. She clearly didn’t care and the whole thing back in the office was a fake.

I was exposed to sex at seven years old. At first I had no idea what was going on. See, I had woken up from a nightmare on a chilly winter night. As I sat up in my bed and prepared to find my mom, I heard some somewhat muffled grunts from the bedroom down the hall. I, being the curious little girl that I am, wandered to the door and slowly pushed the door open. Through that little crack, I saw a most terrifying sight…for a seven year old anyway. My mom looked she was swallowing my dad’s dick! Before I could interrupt her to help dad, they switched to a more stationary position. I figured out that they were doing this for their pleasure, not attacking each other, and could only watch for several more minutes before I hurried back to my room. That image haunted me throughout my childhood. Every time I woke up from a bloody nightmare, I would cover my head with a pillow and try to ignore the rhythmic grunts and pleas for more.

On another similar night, years later when I was fourteen, I was wondering down some dark alley way. Yah yah, it was stupid…and what followed is probably predictable on your part. Your predictions are most likely true by the way. As I walked onward, unconcerned about the time or my surroundings, I heard several footsteps behind me. I risked a glance back. That was enough to allow the man to catch up, grab my shirt, and pull me aside. I knew what was going to happen as soon as he pulled out a sock to stuff in my mouth. Before I could protest, I was gagging on a dirty, smelly sock. He knocked me to my hands and knees, and began to tear at my clothes. I did my best to spit the sock out, but it was shoved in there, and my hands were occupied with trying to defend myself. I tried standing, but was shoved to the ground again. Finally getting the sock out of my mouth, I let out a piercing scream.
A heavy kick to my stomach left me windless. I tasted the blood on my tongue, and could feel the tears as I kneeled, well aware that I was helpless to defend myself. As soon as one of his hands was on the hem on his panties, I heard him yelp, and noticed the absence of his arm around my waist. I rolled onto my butt, and looked up at the tall figures fighting. Sobbing, I figured that the one who had attacked the first guy would probably finish what the other had started when the fight was over, so I reached for my ruined clothes, and stood, only wearing the underwear and a thin tank top over the bra. I sprinted as fast as I could away from the two, realizing seconds later I was headed into a dead end. I looked around as the second man turned to me, the first man hurrying away. I released another scream before he could reach me, though it was cut short when I noticed he was pulling of his jacket. I flinched as he wrapped it around me when he had reached me, and bent to my height, “You okay?”
I glared at him for another moment, still tense, “Well let’s see…I nearly swallowed some hobos filthy sock, was nearly raped, and was kicked in the stomach. You tell me!”
The man chuckled, “Well, maybe you aren’t doing so well.”
I recognized a hint of adolescence in his voice, though didn’t allow myself to relax.
He rubbed my shoulder gently, “Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.”
I frowned, though followed him. If anything about him or his car looked suspicious when I finally got to see his face, I would high-tail it out of there, warm jacket and all. Though when the street lights had become bright enough, I recognized the face of the sixteen year old boy that occasionally sat at our group during lunch. His name was Ian. When he looked down to me again, his eyes widened, and he tilted his head slightly, “Madeline?”
I nodded, and he grinned, pulling open the passenger door of his car and allowing me to sit down inside before he shut it behind me.

I later found out that he lived in the neighborhood, in a two story house with a nice green lawn and simple landscaping. I spent as much time as I could at his house, he and I quickly becoming best friends. He had jet black hair, smoldering chocolate brown eyes, and a friendly, charming grin. He stood a foot taller than me, with broad shoulders and strong arms. I always treasured the moments I had in his arms. He confessed his love for me, though added soon after that that he wanted to wait until I was older. I of course liked him from the start, but I was totally willing to wait. The day after, he was killed in a car accident.
It crushed me when I found out, me being fifteen by that time. Every night I would wake up screaming from some nightmare, and would reach for the phone to call him, then remember that he was gone. He would never. Every day after that I would go to school, get to work after, and would set the money aside. I had to get out of this damn town. I had to get away from his memory."

Sample Rp:

Madeline sprinted hard through the trees, frantically trying to escape the sharp teeth snapping at her heels. The biting cold wind accompanied by the icy rain drops stung her bare skin as she pushed herself harder. Her eyes fixed on the familiar tall figure ahead of her, and she pushed herself harder. No matter how hard she ran, the wolves were always nipping her heels, and the tall figure got further and further away.
“IAN!” Madeline screamed, “HELP ME!”
Her foot caught on a trailing root, and she tumbled to the ground. She could feel the sharp bites of the wolves, their teeth penetrating her skin. She screamed once, was cut off, and the last thing she heard was Ian’s voice, “I love you Maddy.”

Madeline screamed into her pillow, tears soaking it and her face, her hair also becoming damp. After a moment, she sat up, unable to hold back the choking sobs. She looked around her dark room, the dim moonlight adding a subtle touch of silvery light. With the flick of a switch, the bedside lamp lit up, spreading it’s warm golden glow around the room. Several packed suitcases in the corner promised Madeline she would soon be out of this town.

Several hours later, she stood in the bathroom. She quickly ran a brush through her hair. Setting it down, she turned to her mother who stood in the doorway.
“How long you staying there?” Her mother questioned bluntly.
“Until I’m out of high school. Beyond that, who knows where I’ll go,” Maddy replied, not bothering to sweeten her words for her mother. The woman didn’t seem to care anyway.
Her mother disappeared again, and Maddy turned back to the mirror. She straightened her slightly loose lip print tee over her faded denim bermudas. She then slipped on a pair of plain black flats, and looked herself over in the mirror once more. She would be comfortable enough for the plane ride.

Celeb:

She isn't really a celeb, but a girl from DeviantArt. Her name is Susan Coffey...the photographer is Oldboy1985
All credit for the photographs go to Susan and Oldboy.

Out Of Character:

Hey there! My name's Amalie, but I'm known mainly as Meihr elsewhere. I am seventeen years old, and have been roleplaying for approximately three years.
You can contact me at [e-mail]
Or IM me on yahoo at seekinghim13

Another site you could find me is DragonStar Roleplays

[( shannon )]

Your detail was phenomenal! You really went into depth, and I couldn't stop reading! (:

Now for the history.....OH. MY. GOD. That was insanely intense. Wow. I literally got way into that. If you could have seen my facial expressions while reading that. I was thinking the whole time how awesome it would be to have the guy who saved her, and then he was gone and I was like D: That was sad, but so well written. Anyway, you're obviously very accepted!