PARKER, hayley skye [not done]

[HAYLEY PARKER]

hayleyskyeparker.
what's up, winterthorne? i'm RED,
and i'm applying to your FANTASTIC
little site. i'm EIGHTEEN years young.
i've only been roleplaying for EIGHT years
long, but you can still count on me to be
the FUCKIN' AWESOME one.



thissong'sfortheemokids.
( withthepunkrock,rockabillyscreamolids )

name , hayley skye parker.
nicknames , doodle.
age and year , eighteen, senior.
sexual preference , straight.
birthday , february eleventh, 1991.
species , fairy.
occupation , student, but works in the art supply store down town by the name of rosco's.
powers , bend reality She can change your hair color, her hair color (and length) and just about anything she wants. The only problem is is that she hasn't quite mastered changing things back. Still, she insists on trying.
flight She doesn't ALWAYS have her wings on hand, but when they're around (she can make them disappear thanks to her reality bending skills) they're usually a flutterin' like crazy and making her go a foot off the ground. They have a mind of their own.

butdamnyoulookgood.
( andi'mdrunk )

height , 5'1".
weight , one hundred and ten.
tattoos and piercings , just some good ol' gages in her ears.
best feature , those big brown doe eyes of hers, the ones that she can change at random.
general ,
Hayley is what you'd call "eccentric." [in progress]
playby , geena.

littledeathsinmusicalbeds.
( soitseemsi'msomeonei'venevermet! )

likes , colors, changing her hair, dancing, danceable music, coconut shrimp, Gelaskins for her laptop, photography, lady bugs, the color yellow, lying in the grass, and anything Sanrio.
dislikes , party poopers, negative people, horror movies, plain hair (yuck!), the people at clubs that don't dance, people that squash spiders, the color orange, George Bush, people who think gay people suck, Californian law (as of late).
strengths , a bright imagination, quick wit, not easily offended, can shrug just about any insult off, and, because it's awesome, flying.
weaknesses , dull people who lack a sense of humor, not being able to change things back, dust (allergies, don'tcha know), butterfly nets--they give her the creeps.
fears , being captured by the creepy thing from Saw, being trapped in the Cube, dying, bees.
quirks , whistles while she works thinks, changes her hair color to match her outfit, whenever she gets an idea, good or bad, she tends to say it out loud.
secrets , thinks zombies are real (so please, don't tell her about the zombie outbreak of 08), thinks that kid with the skunk hair is super hot.
general ,
pending

idon'tcarewhatyouthink.
( aslongasit'saboutme! )

favorite cereal , fruit loops, of course! they're as colorful as she is!
deal or no deal , uhm, deal.. no, wait... why don't i just take the money and run? ooh, i love that song.
if confronted by the living dead , scream in horror and make someone else take care of it.

wordsofwisdomfortheweary.
( seewhogetsitintheend )

hometown , san francisco, baby!
family , just a mother and a baby sister. her mother is 45, named cathy, and her sister, julie, is ten.
pets , a lizard. she brought him to winterthorne.
best memory , when she learned to take her hair from blond to pink in fifth grade.
worst memory , when she couldn't get her hair back to blond and all the kids at school picked on her.
history ,
pending.

we'rethepartyyou'rethepeople.
( let'smakethisnightaclassic! )

password , take a good, hard look at the motherfucking boat! i'm on a boat! look at me 'cause i'm standin' on a boat!
sample post ,

She'd seen plenty of dead bodies before. She'd seen plenty of dead bodies before, horribly disfigured and tortured and dead before they hit the ground. Killed in ways unimaginable to most humans, purely because no human could do such a thing. She'd seen bodies with their guts spilled over an alley floor. She'd seen bodies with their throats cut, a Pez Dispenser made out of them. She'd seen their brains blown in with chunks of skull splattered against the walls. So why did this time feel so different? Any other body would be fine, she could look without flinching, but this time was a horrible mess. She couldn't even picture it without bile churning up in her stomach and throat.

Running into the bathroom across the hall, she got on her knees in front of the toilet, tossing her cookies up into it. Wiping her mouth clean, Daileh sat up and stared at the former contents of her stomach for a moment before flushing. This sucked. She was feeling like a stranger in her own head. What the fuck was this? Mort was dead. So what? She could find another good fuck. Ezra was a close second, right?

Despite the constant reassurance, those feelings wouldn't go away. Those feelings she couldn't identify beyond a reasonable doubt. She blamed them on her inner child, the one that had been stifled for a good eighteen years. The same one that cried every night.

The demoness stood shakily, glancing at herself in the mirror. The blood splatter was hot. Too bad there was nobody around anymore to appreciate it. Ezra might, but it wouldn't be right with her. Feeling something trickle down her cheek, she froze, turning back to the mirror. There was no way in hell this was happening. Crying?
No.
Couldn't be.
Wouldn't be.
She refused to accept that.
She hadn't cried and meant it in... ever. Sure, she'd done it plenty of times to sucker Vince into something, or to get out of what have you, but never for real.

So, once again blaming it on the inner child, Daileh brought her fist to the mirror, shattering it into a thousand tiny pieces. "God fucking dammit. Jesus Christ, you son of a whore," she sneered, ignoring the cuts on her hand as she headed back to the plastic coated room. After all, she had to face the music eventually, blood and tear soaked face and all.

The smell of death hit her nose the same way it always did, but there was still a feeling that something was amiss. She kept her eyes down, glancing to Vince's knife-screwed feet. Why wasn't he squirming like he ought to have been?

andthat'swhatmakesmylifesofuckingfantastic.

okay, so this application
is a fusion of our old one and an
application made by AMANDA IN WONDERLAND !?
of blank pages. don't steal, cause
that's RUDE. lyrics go
to A BUNCH OF PEOPLE,
but they're not ours. and, lastly,
don't stretch the board.
it's NOT COOL.