COURCEL; Aaryn, Delilah [COMPLETE]

[aaryn delilah courcel]

Aaryn Delilah Courcel
Twenty-eight . Model/unemployed . Mis-matched

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character name - - -

Aaryn Delilah Courcel.

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character nicknames - - -

Nar-nyn.

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character age - - -

Twenty eight .

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character personality - - -

Different, sweet, surprising, soft.

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character history - - -

Aaryn was raised a small town girl some distance from New york city itself. Her life was a normal one, with parents who truly loved her and supported her in everything she ever wished to be a part of - save for those tattoos, that is. Still, she had good friends, and a warm home, but something was missing… Aaryn wouldn’t take no for an answer, and she was going to be a painter.

There was truly no need for a painter who didn’t paint house facades, so it’s at the age of twenty, fresh out of college with associates degree in hand that Aaryn heads off to The Big Apple.

It‘s amazing how everyone seems to think New York city is the answer to all their prayers, how small town folk think it‘s this place of miracles and wonderment. It‘s been a place where dreams come true. At least it seemed like that from the outside; you wanted to be a model, you were, you wanted to paint, you‘d get yourself a nice little studio and get to work. But it didn‘t take long for Aaryn to figure out otherwise. She‘s since given up her love of painting, and has been hopping from one miserable job to another, doing some “alternative“ modeling on the side just to scrape by.

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all about you - - -

ooc name: Marissa
pb being used: Maria Brink
years of experience: Five-ish
membergroup: citizen

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]The sight was certainly something to behold. At least it had been initially. Robyn had been wowed. Those hazel eyes of hers wide with amazement, and wonder. Those near-twenty years of hers were imperceptible in that moment; the small girl could easily pass for a naive seven year old. Hell, her mouth had nearly been hanging ajar in the moment of her arrival. She’d have to be both blind and deaf to not be in awe.

Still, that was quick to wear off, and now the music was simply loud, irritating, even, throbbing within her poor, abused ears. Oh, and the dancing, that had worn off all too quickly. Then again, the young girl had never much been one for clubbing, or dancing in general.

But that hadn’t stopped her from going! Oh, no, Robyn had been looking to make at least one normal friend within this strange town. And, yes, Robyn can appreciate the irony in that thought. Sure, a masquerade wasn’t exactly a place to meet the less-eccentric, but it was at least somewhere to meet someone, whether or not Robyn would actually be interested in keeping friends like that was yet to be seen.

Though it seemed even that small concept was failing. Robyn had noticed a hopeless amount of what appeared to be cliques; groups mingling within themselves, distinctly separated from the others. It left Robyn on her own, and bored as all hell. She truly should have seen this coming. Though in all reality, she’d hoped the clique thing would be done when high school was over. Seemed she was sorely mistaken! And pathetically alone.

Perhaps she should have brought her camera with her. At least that would have given her something to do.

It’s a shame, too, truly! She’d gotten all gussied up in a white cotton dress, and pulled those dark curls of hers back, and upwards with various bedazzled bobby pins, and clips. Her neck bound within loop after loop of thin silver chains, teasing downwards and along thin collar bones. Hell, she’d even pulled her hand-painted high heels. The usually inappropriate ones with cameras and coils of film arching from heel-to-toe. Oh! And let’s not forget about that simplistic pearl-shaded mask strapped about her head. She’d long since peeled it away from her features and settled it upon her hair-line.

And she sits there, simply waiting for heaven knows what. It’s surely an act of intense patience on her part that she simply hasn’t abandoned her post and wandered home. Though she’d told her parents she’d be home around three, and she wasn’t exactly ready for the ridicule that would come if she were home early.

You see, Robyn hasn’t exactly been known for making friends since her parents had up-rooted and began bouncing about the expanse of the country. What was it about college professors that made them feel obligated to up and move themselves without care for their family - or their young daughter. And don’t think her parents hadn’t noticed, because they had! The two didn’t necessarily berate young Miss Robyn for the lack of friends, they simply felt compelled to question over the state of her friend count, what felt like every damn day. And they never seemed to surprise when Robyn simply grunted in reply and turned her attention back to her plate of food.

Perhaps if she stayed out long enough that young mind of hers would concoct some nigh ridiculous tale of how she’d made friends between some fire breathers - which there weren’t - and overhead trapeze artists - also, none to be found. Still, Robyn was almost positive that she could concoct some believable tale.

So she sits, and simply watches people mingle; elbows on her knees and her head rested within those tiny hands of hers.