http://watchthesheep.insanejournal.com/profile
More like Ho Peep.
OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION.
NAME: Rian
AGE: 21 BABY.
TIME ZONE: Arizona time (YES, IT HAS ITS OWN TIME ZONE).
CONTACT INFORMATION: caraway1914 (AIM), moc.liamg|4091yawarac#moc.liamg|4091yawarac
PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE: You can link to past journals, games, and threads or a compilation journal!
IN CHARACTER INFORMATION.
NAME: Beatrice (Bea) Anne Maxwell, of the Connecticut Maxwells.
AGE / BIRTHDATE: 19, about to turn 20. Not that that's what her ID says.
SEXUALITY: Heterosexual! Goodness, what does she look like, some kind of gay?
BIRTHPLACE: Greenwich, Connecticut.
YEAR: Junior! She started school a semester early since her parents were just so sure she could excel, so she's a few months ahead age-wise of most of her peers.
MAJOR: Leadership and Educational Studies, with a double minor in French and Sociology. Overachiever? You bet your ass. Entirely due to Daddy's heckling? Damn right. To be fair, she started out in Finance and International Business, but she managed to salvage some of her own opinions and switch to the major she wanted sophmore year.
EXTRACURRICULARS: Kingdom Honors Society, College Republicans, Alpha Xi Delta, Women's Tennis, and Cheerleading. She also volunteers on weekends at a daycare center. Yeah. She's one of those.
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Winter Summerland apartments: a really nice flat on the fifth floor that Daddy bought her. Plush leather couches, floor-to-ceiling windows, two bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a walk-in closet (because girl needs room for those Manolo Blahniks, ok) — what more could an undergrad ask for?
APPEARANCE: Bea has always been a pretty young lady. Calling her beautiful would be slightly reaching — there's something of a bird about her features, and if she wasn't perfectly coiffed at all times, she might fall just this side of plain — but there's certainly nothing all that unfortunate about her. Bea has been brought up with the best make up artists and stylists, the highest fashion, the newest styles, and as such, she is never, never caught looking less than her best. Her clothes are designer, her glasses purchased in Milan, her shoes cobbled by Choo and Blahnik. She even rolls out of bed looking professionally done up, and she'll likely be one of those women who either doesn't age or mysteriously looks 30 well into her 60's. Not that she's had any work done now, of course.
PLAYED BY: Elisabeth Harnois.
PERSONALITY:
There are three things one needs to know to understand Beatrice Maxwell: that she's filthy rich, her family is extremely white, and her mother's sex talk amounted to "They won't buy the ice cream van if you're giving away the milk for free, dumpling."
Beatrice, like most things from the Gold Coast of Connecticut, is all about surfaces. She has money and everyone ought to know; more over, they ought to know that, in all likelihood, she's probably better than they are. She is an overachiever because a) she is expected to be, and b) it makes her feel good. Not to achieve, but to be better. Better is a pretty apt word to describe most of her actions, really: Bea doesn't need to be the best at anything, she just needs to be better than you. Surfaces are all about status, how people see you, how they respect you, and being able to one-up everyone — especially in the form of a backhanded compliment — just gives her the giggles.
Needless to say, the obsession with surfaces has made her something of a slut. To call her that, of course, would end up in a very large man outside your house with a lead pipe, but at the heart of the matter, that's what she is. Bea was taught very young (aside from the rather bizarre sex talk), that everything in life is business: everything is some sort of bargain. No matter how good or kind-hearted someone is, they want something from you, and you want something from them. Around 14, when boobs and hips started popping out, she discovered the real benefits of being a woman, and by 16, was utilizing those gifts to the best of her ability. All sugar and cream on top — vicious capitalist underneath. Prostitution, you say? Never! But Bea understands what men want, and what they're willing to do to get it. Half the male population of KU is wrapped around her little finger.
On the other hand, this does become sort of a hindrance in the morality department. To go back to the surfaces rule, morality was just never something that played into the picture. Her mother was a lush from noon until bedtime, and her father, in the few moments he was actually home, rarely did anything besides sign her credit card bills and tell her to listen to her mother. You can see how well that plan turned out. Bea doesn't quite understand things that can't be bought or bargained for: (much like her pixelated counterpart, in fact), Bea's understanding of the world is somewhat two-dimensional. Things are the way they are. Men like sex. She's pretty and rich. On the random (and disturbingly frequent) times she gets into hot water, someone is there to save her. But ~underlying feelings~? Truth, justice, trust, and all that? Who the hell uses those?
Being raised in a super-white, Protestant, New England home also took its toll on Bea, aside from the oodles of money and absentee parents. Some of the views she holds are a little antiquated (obviously not sex until marriage, but, say, that a man and woman shouldn't live together before marriage, or that all yardworkers are Mexicans), she's more than a little racist, and has the unfortunate habit of needing rescuing (from a man, thank you) more often than not. To call her outright bitchy would not be quite accurate; Bea has just never been taught to be anything but vaguely racist and holier-than-thou. She feels for people, she does — but it often tends to be in a "Oh, you poor, unfortunate, lesser person," than as a human being worrying for another human being. Still, she's trying. Dating Richard (for what it's worth) does help, as well as being in an environment that isn't all white-washed mansions and gardeners named Javier or Pablo, she can never remember.
Last but only partially least, underneath the Gucci sunglasses and salon-styled hair, Bea does, shockingly, have a few good points. She has an incredible soft spot for children, and even changed her family-chosen major to Leadership and Education so she could teach youngin's when she graduates university. She's not entirely sure why she likes them so much; maybe it's a half-wonderment sort of thing, at these tiny little people still untouched by the materialism and hedonism that shaped her growth. Maybe her maternal clock has just already started ticking. Either way, Bea has a mother-bear maternal instinct that can and has been known to cause irreparable facial damage to those who get all up in her grill re: children in her care. She's also exceedingly fond of her boyfriend Richard, even if she really has no idea why she likes him or is dating him when she could be seeing that nice quarterback. They haven't even had sex yet, but she likes having him around. Except when he's being a douche. Then he can gtfo.
LIKES: Cosmopolitans; Manolo Blahnik; getting her way; when Richard doesn't act like a complete idiot in front of her friends, oh my God; Evian; the French Riviera in the spring; her hair; money; children; looking fantastic all the time.
DISLIKES: Hobos; poor people who won't get a job, what is their problem; the poolboy; Dan Brown; Michael Moore; things Daddy does not approve of; when Daddy refuses to sign her credit card bill; Mother's drinking habits; being called a slut.
HISTORY:
Herbert Maxwell and Yvonne Stralinski-Maxwell were a match made in Fortune 500 Heaven. He, a prosperous surgeon out of Connecticut, she a budding socialite princess out of Manhattan. When their first sprog popped out, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed little girl, they were the face of parenthood on every respectable parenting and tabloid magazine in the area.
This was Bea's early life. Her mother's semi-fame among the elite of New York was enough to warrant her daughter a similar degree of popularity in her youth, though Bea early on channelled it into power rather than fame. Herbert didn't want his only baby subject to the papparazi and wrecked privacy like those idiotic Hilton girls; between her mother's love of the limelight and her father's firm hand, Bea quickly formulated just how to direct how people looked at her. Popularity was all well and good, but it had to be under your own terms. If you were popular, fine; but what was it going to get you?
She was in the in-crowd all through school, never quite working her way to Queen Bee position until she was lured into the bed of the fullback on her high school's football team at 15. Perhaps not the best decision, and she had something like guilt for a while afterwards, but hey! The next week at school, she was the most popular girl around. Sure, it started out because she was, according to the fullback, a cute little slut; but Bea was no idiot. She never let it get to her (publically, at least), and maintained such a terrifyingly firm grip on her little group of Mean Girls that, within a month, "slut" had turned into something else entirely. Bea was loved. Bea was admired. Bea had the football team wrapped around her little finger.
Things continued this way for a while. Bea kept climbing that social ladder, babysitting on weekends (which was oddly therapeutic), and banging anything with a dick that could prove beneficial to her. When she showed no aptitude for biology or sciences, effectively dashing her father's hopes she might follow him into the field, the family began pushing for Bea to enter business. After all, she was practically handling all the family finances by 17: a thrifty person she was not, but she had something of a head for numbers, and no one could call her anything less than ruthless. Her mother saw her marrying some rich businessman after she'd made a name for herself on Wall Street; her father saw her sailing to the top of the Fortune 500, purchasing them a villa in Tuscany for their retirement. While Bea was quite the Independent Woman outside of the house, under her father's thumb, she could do nothing but acquiesce. And after all, it wasn't as if she'd had some sort of plan after graduation. She liked children, sure, and money, but there wasn't really any way to bring those two together. God knew what little money teachers made. Her grades and extracurriculars were enough for the Ivy League — but in a surprising turn of events, Beatrice chose the less prestigious and more distantly located Kingdom University. To this day she has never been quite sure why: her father was insisting on Yale, but really, if you're going to go to University, you might as well go to University. KU was far enough that her parents couldn't make a day trip up, far enough that her old friends wouldn't make things difficult in her inevitable sorority — far enough, she realized later, that she might try making a couple decisions not based entirely on ascending the social ladder.
In her past two years at KU, Bea has not only changed her major to one destined for a mediocre job and little fame, but taken up with Richard Robinson, a middle class nobody who Mother and Daddy really, really don't approve of. They're starting to worry their little girl might be straying from The Path, and who knows what could happen to her next? Drugs? Sex with strange boys? Liberal politics? Family relations have been a little tight since enrolling, but for the most part, Bea has enjoyed clawing her way to the top of Kingdom University's foodchain, learning to defy her parents, and maybe — shock of shocks — developing something of a moral compass along the way.
Though that last's not too likely.
EXAMPLES.
FIRST PERSON:
Well! What a schedule I've got for this term! 19 units of classes, plus all those extracurriculars and time at the daycare — I just don't know how I'll do it! But we must learn to persevere, etc. etc. I know some of you have just such full schedules, so I suppose I shouldn't complain. Twelve units and a job, gracious! I know between my classes, the daycare, and all my extracurriculars, things are certainly going to be tight. Oh, and I almost completely forgot about AXD! I've got to take care of the new pledgers and make sure initiation doesn't go too harshly on them. You know, we have some of the most colorful people try to pledge, it never ceases to amaze! We had one girl come in and, I don't mean to imply anything about her eating habits, but my goodness! And you know, we just couldn't accept her pledge, I felt just awful. But we're a very active, busy sorority! Not like Phi Mu, which is so much more laissez-faire. Our girls have to be in top physical shape if we're to keep the proper image and standards! What would people think if an Alpha Xi Delta girl couldn't complete her volunteer work becuase she had trouble getting up off the couch? Goodness! I just had to tell the poor dear no.
Which reminds me! Have any girls in the chapter house seen my red Manolos? I wore them for the last gala and I just can't find them anywhere. You know how I get when someone takes my shoes, ha ha!
THIRD PERSON: My character (Roll) encounters a disturbing scene at a subway station.
FINISHED?
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