Post by OLIVE BRENNA STARK on Mar 20, 2010 7:04:34 GMT -5
FULL NAME: olive brenna stark[/blockquote][/font]
NICKNAMES: ollie or stark
AGE & BIRTHDAY: 16 & 18th june
HOMETOWN: indianapolis, indiana
ILLNESSES: schizophrenia
SEXUALITY: heterosexual
MEMBER GROUP: junior
[/blockquote][/font]“Well I don't know what the fuck I'm meant to put in this... start with the basics? Right, here goes”
My name is Olive, Ollie or Stark or any other name you can come up with. I was born in Indianapolis and I was raised in Greenwood (just outside Indianapolis) by both of my Scottish born parents, and thanks to that I have a weird American/Scottish accent. When I was twelve it was discovered that I have the mental illness known as schizophrenia and from that point my life became a mass of tests and therapy sessions.
My case is pretty severe. I experience hallucinations, voices, racing thoughts, delusions, disorganized thoughts, difficulty concentrating, avolition and disorganised behaviour – that's officially what the doctors tell me, but most of the time it's voices or hallucinations and I tend to lose my temper easily and the doctors say that it's part of the disorganised behaviour. Since the age of twelve I have been taking antipsychotic medicines and I have had to attend numerous behaviour therapy sessions, they don't work for me though so they have made me join the CMHT and CPA. I have been admitted to mental institutions twice now, and both times they thought they had miraculously cured me and let me go – but my symptoms are still just as bad as before. They say if they continue to get worse, they'll get the CRT involved, but I'd rather they didn't because they only do that when they think you're experiencing a severe psychiatric crisis and the thought of that title being pinned to me scares the crap out of me.
Beyond my illness I'm actually just a normal teenager. I want to have normal friends most of the time, and I want to do normal things – most of the time. I like to have fun and I like to go out at the weekends and do things I probably shouldn't. I'll admit that I tend to go against the rules a lot but that's only because I'm so fucking restricted the rest of the time, and there is nothing I can do about it.
I don't really know what else to say... so I'll leave you with that.
NAME/ALIAS: isabella robyn[/blockquote][/font]
AGE: 15
EXPERIENCE: 3-4 years
TIMEZONE: gmt
ANYTHING ELSE: i'm scottish :O
Andrew Whoitt, the fast rising star so to speak. She wasn't particularly well known yet - but rumour had it that she was going to hit it big in America. She'd already won over the men and women of Britain with her appearances on the covers of magazines, in the major fashion shows and in the odd TV ad but America was a much larger place, and it had so many more people to please but Andrew was confident. She wanted it, she really wanted it - and if she wanted it just that little bit more, she couldn't possibly not reach her goal, right? She'd already booked a few shoots and on the particular day of discussion, she'd been shooting since early in the morning for a clothing line by one of the top designers though there were lots of girls there - so she wouldn't stand out as the new face for the line, which in all honesty had been what she was hoping for. Andrew new that if she was to become the face of a major label, she'd make it. She'd be famous, and fame got people everywhere. Andrew craved money. She got it, she spent it, then she got some more. She lived for money, and in her world - money made everything right. Money was happiness and happiness was money. No one could try and persuade her otherwise, because it was all she knew - she hadn't had a wealthy upbringing, so money was new to her. Money was fresh and crispy - it was a new shiny toy.
Andrew was done up, but not over done. Her make-up was made to look fairly natural so as not to take away from the clothing, and giant loose curls hung down around her neck, framing her face nicely. She was in a pair of black skinny jeans and a white tank top. It was casual and easy for her to slip in and out of because during her breaks she wasn't allowed to wear the clothes she was modeling - obviously. Of course she wished she could keep the garments, and sometimes - depending on the designer, she could. It was always a good feeling when she left a shoot with a new outfit and a feeling of doing a good job. If the designer was willing to let her keep a garment then she had obviously looked good in it, and she'd obviously pleased them - which meant she wasn't starting to lose her touch. Andrew feared the day she just wasn't in any more. She hoped she was one of those girls that had a look that could last years, but she knew her job would only carry her until her body started to lose it's young shape and her skin lost it's vibrant glow. In her eyes, the day that happened - was the day she died. A part of her lost forever.
The buffet table did look very well presented, everything lain out neatly only to be destroyed by the people eager to dig into it. Of course though, Andrew would not be one of the people joining the others in their feast, she couldn't. It was a day of no food - though of course plenty of water and so with that she strutted over to the table, standing quite tall in the crowd of people of whom she recognised vaguely but not very well. The snacks on the table cried to her, tempting her with their bright colours and dainty shapes and her stomach growled at her, asking her to feed it. She ignored it. She had to. A bottle of water was all she left the table with, her usual 'meal' on her no eating days. You know, the average person can live days, weeks even without any food and only water. Random fact.
It was only then that Andrew actually bothered to try and figure out who all the people were around her. They certainly weren't models - most of them too short or too fat or quite simply too ugly - but some of them were so familiar. Andrew glanced at the boy on the railing and instantly it was obvious to her, they were actors. And that actor she recognised, she'd seen a couple of his films, and every character he played she'd seemed to have a crush on - no matter how much of a twat they had been.
"Hey... you're that guy from the movies right?" Andrew stated after making her way casually over. She'd probably been a little too blunt and to the point - but after all, blunt and to the point tended to get the quickest answers. Andrew flashed her pearly white smile in his direction immediately after her question in an attempt to make it seem less.. how should I put it, dull? Not exactly the word I was looking for, but it fits. Andrew just didn't want to seem dull. It wasn't her style - Andrew most certainly wasn't dull.
Andrew was done up, but not over done. Her make-up was made to look fairly natural so as not to take away from the clothing, and giant loose curls hung down around her neck, framing her face nicely. She was in a pair of black skinny jeans and a white tank top. It was casual and easy for her to slip in and out of because during her breaks she wasn't allowed to wear the clothes she was modeling - obviously. Of course she wished she could keep the garments, and sometimes - depending on the designer, she could. It was always a good feeling when she left a shoot with a new outfit and a feeling of doing a good job. If the designer was willing to let her keep a garment then she had obviously looked good in it, and she'd obviously pleased them - which meant she wasn't starting to lose her touch. Andrew feared the day she just wasn't in any more. She hoped she was one of those girls that had a look that could last years, but she knew her job would only carry her until her body started to lose it's young shape and her skin lost it's vibrant glow. In her eyes, the day that happened - was the day she died. A part of her lost forever.
The buffet table did look very well presented, everything lain out neatly only to be destroyed by the people eager to dig into it. Of course though, Andrew would not be one of the people joining the others in their feast, she couldn't. It was a day of no food - though of course plenty of water and so with that she strutted over to the table, standing quite tall in the crowd of people of whom she recognised vaguely but not very well. The snacks on the table cried to her, tempting her with their bright colours and dainty shapes and her stomach growled at her, asking her to feed it. She ignored it. She had to. A bottle of water was all she left the table with, her usual 'meal' on her no eating days. You know, the average person can live days, weeks even without any food and only water. Random fact.
It was only then that Andrew actually bothered to try and figure out who all the people were around her. They certainly weren't models - most of them too short or too fat or quite simply too ugly - but some of them were so familiar. Andrew glanced at the boy on the railing and instantly it was obvious to her, they were actors. And that actor she recognised, she'd seen a couple of his films, and every character he played she'd seemed to have a crush on - no matter how much of a twat they had been.
"Hey... you're that guy from the movies right?" Andrew stated after making her way casually over. She'd probably been a little too blunt and to the point - but after all, blunt and to the point tended to get the quickest answers. Andrew flashed her pearly white smile in his direction immediately after her question in an attempt to make it seem less.. how should I put it, dull? Not exactly the word I was looking for, but it fits. Andrew just didn't want to seem dull. It wasn't her style - Andrew most certainly wasn't dull.
