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LOVE, Harlow Valerie
|HARLOW VALERIE LOVE
L I L Y !
Member No.: 44
Joined: 8-September 10
| HARLOW VALERIE LOVEHey there, glad you could join us. So first thing's first, what do we call you?Hey pretty lady! This chair is super comfortable and you can totally call me Harls. My name is Harlow, though. I was named after a town in England where I was born. I have a few other nicknames too, Harlequin is one of my favorites, that and Harly - but people don't call me that too much. I kind of think it sounds like, Harpy, which isn't something very admirable.Okay, got it. And how old are you, if you don't mind me asking?I'm seventeen now, and a great big evil senior at HEA.Mhm and, now don't take this the wrong way, but are you a guy or a girl?Female, [looks down at boobs], definitely female.And are you straight, gay or...?Or...? I want to hear the rest of the options! Transexual, bisexual, trisexual... there's also this thing called pansexual I think. That one is kind of cool because you get to do whoever you want and you really don't care whats between the legs, you know? But I'm straight. I mean, anything can happen and I'd never deny a girl a chance if I was into her, but so far the line screw appeals more than the nut, if you catch my drift.Have we met before? You look so familiar!You have obviously watched too many Harry Potter movies. Actually, after a marathon with my friends I looked in the mirror and had a minor freak out that I was Emma Watson. Its all good though, I figured we're just those weird looking twin-like people. Its odd, but I've accepted it. She's hot anyways.Excellent. Now, for the benefit of our readers, how would you describe your appearance?You want me to look into your mirror and tell you what I look like? I feel like we're on those creepy dating sites. Can't you just take a picture?! Ugh, okay okay! Don't have to glare. Now, I'm 5'8", I have blonde hair that varies in shade - I mean someday when its dark I'm convinced I'm a brunette. Anyways, I have dark brown eyes and I'm not exactly tanned, but not on the pale side. I have freckles and a small nose that Jackson likes to make fun of and poke like a jerk. My lips aren't the biggest, the top one is actually a lot smaller than the bottom now that I look at it. I think I kind of look like a super hot porn star. I'm kidding! Oh my lord, stop glaring at me... just trying to have some fun. Loosen up, darling.And if a stranger had to spot you in a crowd what should they look out for?I only have my lobes pierced so its not really significant, but I guess my height? I'm taller than most girls. So, spotting me in the big crowd isn't as difficult. What's the first thing this stranger would notice about you?The way I don't really act very female-like. I mean, I chew with my mouth closed and cross my legs in a mini - I'm not an uncivilized animal - but when I play sports I play hard and when I'm taking a punch I take it properly. I don't believe in this whole, girls should act a certain way because they're girls. I act how I want to, fuck other peoples expectations. Call me a tomboy, because I guess I am... even if I like wearing skirts. Cool? Cool.Let's just say this stranger decides to observe you for a bit - any habits or quirks they might notice?I have this ring, my mom's old ring. I turn it around like a nutcase when I'm nervous. I have a tendency to bite my pinky when I'm watching movies - just my pinky though - the rest of my nails are so butchered. What else... Oh, I crack my knuckles. Its horrid, and hurts like a bitch later when I'm writing an essay, but its a habit I can't really stop. Uh, oh! I also like breaking into drum beats with my hand on my knee, especially if its a boring lesson by Mr. Whattcot. He's a major douche.So this creepy stranger, what would their first impression of your character be?I think he would be surprised, because I don't look like the tomboy type really. I dress like a real girl - with skirts and fancy tops and high heels but when it comes down to it, I say, do, act the way I want and that throws a lot of people back. I've been called a boys girl, and I think that's pretty self explanatory. So, sport, you got any hobbies?Lets see! I play lacrosse, and go running. I also drug deal... is that a hobby? I do it my spare time... so I guess so. Wait, what kind of magazine is this for? Fuck it. Anyways, I also play basketball and soccer. I love playing soccer, its such a blast. Football, I play that with Jaden, he's a great player - it just sucks we don't have a team. Oh.. I don't do this often anymore... well not in a long time, but I used to play piano and the violin. Lets keep going?Interesting! And what about the things you like the most?Things I like most? I find sex to be an awesome activity, I'll be straight with you. This gossip site, candy miss or whatever, calls me a slut or whatever, but I guess its just that I enjoy screwing around - if its safe of course - I just like being in control of my own sexuality. I also love playing sports, going running and traveling to different places - except Europe - I want to go to Africa. I love the rain, I love playing road hockey with Sal and Jackson, since we live on the same street. I love watching old Disney movies and dancing in my room, I love moseying around in my underwear and lying in the grass. Damn, this feels like that stupid dating site again. Are you sure Sal didn't put you up to this to post a profile on one of those? He would. I bet he is, that fucker.And there's gotta be things you don't like too, right?I hate Paris, and bitches who are so full of themselves, I hate boys who have no idea how to make a move and classes like math and science, I've never been too good at those. I don't like hospitals at all, really I wont go inside. I don't like Tokyo or getting sick when its beautiful outside. I hate letting people down and running out of smokes.Great! So are you keeping any secrets? Don't worry, I swear I won't tell.I hate Paris because I went there with this girl and got raped by a gang of European guys. I lost my virginity that night, and since then swore I would be in control of my own sexual activities.
it probably seems like i'm never coming home, but i'm so lost.
living life fast . please get off your ass . so i will waste away .
in cali - forn - i - a.
Hm, oh. I guess this is a secret. My dad wants to ship me away to Tokyo after graduation. Wants me to take over his stupid ass company and won't let me go to college. I hate that dick bag. Can we keep going now?My lips are sealed. Now, what would you say is your best quality?I would have to say my tendency to not give a flying fuck. I mean, if things matter than obviously. But, with shit like bitches getting mad at me over something or some stupid argument or anything like that which most girls my age mope and shit about, I can't give two fucks, not even one. I just let shit go if I can't do anything about it. I mean really, whats the point in caring?And your worst? C'mon, no one's perfect, kiddo.I can't commit to much, I mean. I can't say the.. L-L. L- word. I can't say that to anyone, I can't even say it to my own father - shit I wouldn't want to. I've had trouble seeing people go, and since then I believed that the L word died with them. I don't think its possible. So I can't say it, and I can't be with anyone because I can't get close only to have them slip away, you know?Now how about the other people in your life, let's talk family.Its only me and my father now. He works in Tokyo, owns a huge investment company - Love co. Sounds like a clothing brand doesn't it? Well he's got one of those too. Anyways, he's a straight up asshole and I can't bare the week I have to spend in his board meetings every six months. He's a cunt and I don't want to talk about it any more.Any pets?I have a yorkie named Spork, he's kind of annoying sometimes and my maid Maria likes him more than I do at times. My cat is in Tokyo, for some reason. She's Betsy.You're doing great, just a few more questions. So where are you from?I was born in Harlow, England. I grew up in Seattle by the coast line and then moved here, to MA when I was eight.I see, cool. So how come you ended up at HEA?My mother died, and I couldn't stay in Seattle. So my father had to pick somewhere to stick me. No way was he taking me to Tokyo, he wouldn't want to bother with my ass that close. So he told his stupid slut secretary - Anna - to pick the boarding school for me. I think she just went on google search and HEA was the first result. Almost done. So anything else we should know about you?Harlow Valerie Wilson Love was born at six twenty one AM, just as the sun was rising over the small-knit town of Harlow, Essex, England. Rachel Wilson was on her way to the private airport to meet her husband, Robert love, in Tokyo when she found her water breaking in her 1989 dodge charger. Pretty manned up car for a girl huh? Well Rachel was just that kind of girl at twenty two when she had her first daughter. After Harlow’s birth, and Rachel’s final release of the loving hospital staff, she was given a small teddy bear for her daughter wrapped in pink and sent on her way.
Rachel made it to Tokyo, only to walk in with her daughter in her arms and her husband sleeping naked on the bed and a blonde broad walking around in her underwear. Rachel needed no explanation of what happened the night she was giving birth. Instead she walked into the hotel room and introduced herself to the blonde by the name of Anna Kerlick. . Rachel left with the anger still boiling in her blood with the floating complimented her on the 'gorgeous daughter' in her hands.
The two of them got into the car and Rachel drove to the international airport with a one-way trip back to Seattle. And the two of them settle down in the beautiful coast side home. By the time Harlow was three months old, the two high school sweethearts, Rachel Wilson and Robert Love were officially divorced. Rachel had five million dollar alimony under her belt to prove it.
Robert love is the now inherited the entire love empire from his bitter father, he owns huge companies all over the world, newspapers, museums, food-chains, banks, you name it, love owns it but it comes with some sacrifice. Robert is a bitter man, mostly his father’s fault, but he’s no better since he’s becoming just like him. This is important for later on in the timeline.
Rachel and Harlow were best friends. She took her first step, sang her first songs, do-re-mi from the sound of music, and took part in her first piano recital. Harlow was always talented, smart. She knew what she wanted from the moment she could express it. Whether it was those red and purple sneakers at the age of three, or the macaroni and cheese over fettuccine alfredo at the fancy Italian restaurant when she was six. Rachel taught Harlow about music and art, how to love and trust. Rachel was an amazing mother to Harlow; no mother was better more attentive or as strong and caring.
Then things took a turn. At the age of seven Harlow was sat down in her large purple and pink bedroom with her mother sitting at the edge of the bed. Harlow sat up and glanced at her mother worriedly, 'what’s wrong' she asked as she narrowed her eyes curiously. Rachel told Harlow about a little thing called sickness, something called cancer and a deadline. All of which hit Harlow hard, but nothing could knock this girl off her feet.
As Rachel got sicker, Harlow stayed with her. She got a tutor so she could stay by her mother and as soon as she finished second grade Rachel was transferred to the hospital for better care. That deadline was moving up close, and then it hit. Not a day late Rachel Wilson passed away at the age of twenty-eight. Harlow lied beside her late-mothers body, a beautiful blonde woman in a Chanel suite walked to the doorway with a face of pity.
Harlow wiped those tears away, took a hold of the leather luggage bag, Maria, the maid, packed for her and set off in front of the woman named Anna as if she meant nothing, which she did to Harlow. Getting into the limo, they headed for the private airport to aboard the same jet-plane Rachel was heading to eight years earlier.
Robert realized that now that he had his only daughter, he was going to need to find a better suited place to call 'home' than a Chicago flat. So he found the small town of hallows edge to 'settle' down in. He bought one of the most expensive homes in the city and sent Anna and Harlow there. Upon arrival, Harlow stood and stared at the huge home for a couple of minutes as an army of workers were moving around the estate busily. A couple ran up to Anna with wallpaper patterns, and come wheeling a couple of chair choices for her to pick. Anna made her walk towards the large building, then suddenly turned back to Harlow to say 'you can go choose a room for yourself, the decorator will be here tomorrow to plan it all with you, you can have whatever you like... But I’m sure you already know that'. Harlow simply snarled back at Anna, before a maid approached her to take her bags from her grip, after a few more minutes of taking in her new home.
Now it's time to find out about the player! What are we to call you?Lily!And how long have you been on this planet?sixteen yearsSo how long have you been trapped in the wonderful world of roleplay?a couple years, man I don't even remember. Maybe four, five?Any other creations of yours wandering this site?Olivander Wilde, Tatum Suzette.And how did you find us?Magic.Is there anything else we should know?I ate billy.And finally, the phrase that pays!mona lisa, you're guarenteed to run this town
|Tatum was sitting with her backpack on in the tree outside her house as she looked at things being piled into the back of the car. All of which, of course, were Claire’s since Tatum refused even after lecturing and forewarning to pack. Tatum was convinced that all she need for her school year was what was in her backpack and her cat.|
In her backpack was nothing she would show anyone. One magazine of models too skinny to still be alive, a superman comic book from 1942, a box of 24 crayons, purple dye, yellow paint and her brother’s favorite sweater. She slipped all of these things into her TMNT bag and took the matching lunch bag to the well-lit kitchen where she stuffed it with strawberry milk that would be stacked into the dorm mini fridge.
Now, she was ready and sitting in the tree as she waited for her sister to come out. Claire was odd and for some reason believes that it was necessary to pack four suitcases for school. Who would need all that stuff? Heaven forbid she just be a normal person and bring a backpack. Tatum would never understand people that put more than one thing in their drawers or put more than one kind of food in their mini fridge. She never ever understood her old roommates, they were the worst. Tatum shuddered as she sat in her tree dangling her legs.
Finally, her big sister came out of the house and she let a huge grin plaster on her face as she jumped out of the tree. Tatum wasn’t about to get into the car with Claire, oh no. Tatum was now running back into her house and making hissing noises as she looked for Cheshire. Where was that cat!? She thought to herself as she skipped around the hardwood and marble. She smiled even wider – if that was possible – as she spotted the blue Russian cat on the leather sofa. He stood up as if ready for his duty and Tatum picked him up as she hugged him lovingly and a bit too close to her. She loved her cat, because he was her best friend.
Tatum opened her backpack and let herself slip the cat into the shell bag as she kissed him on the cheek and zipped the bag enough to let his head poke out if he wanted. The girl gave him a smirk and slipped the bag back on as she ran to the inner garage door.
With a feeling of excitement, tatum got on her white bike with a basket and ribbons coming out the handles. She open the garage door with a push of a button and rolled off the driveway waving to the old maid. The excitement, tatum would never verbally admit, was due to her leaving the presence of the Suzette’s old terrible French maid. She was a horrible person to Tatum’s growing and never seasing imagination. Tatum saw the old lady as a terrible monster with a bun, you could never expect the next terrible thing she would do and that was the worst thing for Tatum.
Thankfully on her way far, far, away, Tatum could let out a giggle as she arrive to school on her bicycle. Finally reaching the girls dorm building, she dropped the bike on the side of the brick structure without bothering to lock or giving it a second thought. She ran up to the door, wrenched it open and took the stairs – not the elevator – by the two. Running up the stairs, she wrenched open the second floor door and skipped to her room number as she watched the doors flash past her eyes… 2L. Tatum missed it, and stopped her skipping with the grin that once graced her lips now gone. She turned around on her heel as her yellow boots made friction with the dorm floor carpet. She skipped off once more to the second door from the entrance she came from. 2B, this was her and Cheshire’s new home.
Tatum opened her backpack as she heads a meow in her ear. She reached in and took the cat under her arm like a purse and walked straight into the room. There was a girl lying on a bed in her room and an unpleasant smell filled the stiff air. Tatum’s eyebrows scrunched up as the cat wiggled from her grasp and strutted over to a bed to the left of the girl farthest away from the opposite bed and mostly affected by the light coming off the glass window. The warmth appeared to fill the cat with happiness as he turned into a ball and snuggled with himself. Tatum smiled quickly at him and strutted – much like the cat – over to the bed he had chosen for them after she kicked the door closed with her foot.
Tatum opened her backpack a little more, not yet taking another look at the girl, as she threw the bag upside down and emptied its vast contents to the clean sheets of the bed and began taking item by item to one of her drawers that were clearly meant for clothing. She placed each item into each drawer or cabinet placing the sweater on her desk and all else closed quarters.
Home sweet home, she thought to herself as she finished and placed herself on the bed stroking her cat and purring at him.
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