DRESDEN, Rosalie Scarlet

[Rosalie Scarlet Dresden]

idon'tcareaboutclever,idon'tcareaboutfunny



rosaliescarletdresden

bonjour, my name is Darby. i've got sixteen
tracks spinning on my record. i've got serious skill 'cause i've been roleplaying for nine years and i live in the central timezone. to contact me try [e-mail]

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iwantloadsofclothesandfuckloadsofdiamonds

name , Rosalie Scarlet Dresden
nicknames , Rose ; Scar ; Johanson
age & date of birth , twenty-three ; Apirl 14
gender , female
sexual orientation , swinging [mostly straight]
occupation , Ameteur Rider / Pro SJ trainer
played by , kristin kreuk
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ihearpeoplediewhiletryingtofindthem

height , 5' 6"
weight , 118
basic appearance, It's hard to talk about my appearance, I mean whose not conceited atleast once in their life? I don't think I'm pretty most of the time, but then you know you go and say that and of course everybody is gonna correct you and say that you're gorgeous. My hair is dry with a dull luster that no amount of conditioner has repaired. It has a grown out perm that I'm still trying to get rid of. It's about shoulder length, just long enough to put in a ponytail but still short enough to be manageable. It's thick and hot most of the time, so I try to keep it up, maybe every once and a while I straighten it and let it hang down if I'm going out. It's a dark brown shade, with semi-natural highlights. If I didn't wear hats so much I'm sure you'd be able to see them better.

I was always unusually tall during my elementary years, but now it's not so bad. I relish in my height, it's always been convinent to me, but either way I've always had short friends. I'm mostly all legs, and I take pride in that. Not that I'm overly musclular but I try hard to keep myself from not jiggling. I played soccer when I was younger but gave it up as I got out of high school, I found the leg strength was helpful when it came to jumping and riding. But I have a nasty little habit of working out for a while, making some progress and then going completely off track. So sometimes I'll have defined calves and a flat stomach and then at others I just look like a bowl of pudding. Somehow even with the fluctuating work out rutine I seem to maintain a steady weight. I've always had a high metabolism and I'm thankful for that. I just pray I can keep it past my thirties. However, having a smaller weight then normal I never fully developed a Double D if you know what I mean. ;]

I've always been a fan of my eyes, they are extremely unusual with my lineage. They are a hazel, kinda a honey color around the pupil then a jade green around the outside. I've seen others have eyes like this but I guess what sets mine apart are that they have a slate blue, kinda smokey grey ring that goes around the iris. I have straight teeth, thanks to two years of braces. I try to keep them naturally white, no strips for me. I think I look cheeky in all my pictures, but a lot of people say I don't, but however you see it, my face is kinda round, but not fat. I tend to have a farmer's tan a lot of the time with several thousand tan lines. I like wearing comfortable clothes, tees, shorts, jeans, hoodies, you know, everything. I'm not like one of those gothy kids, or the preppy cheerleader type, I'm just your average Joe.

physical flaws,

• Has long everything -- Her fingers and toes are attached to abnormally large hands and feet. Her arms and legs are also very long compared to her small torso. A lot of people comment on her feet when she wears sandals which makes her self conscious most of the time to go out in public without socks.
  
• Eyes are far apart -- This gives her a look of asian descent, even though she's not.
  
• Small breast -- She has always had small breast which caused her to recieve a lot of ridicule in middle school and farther up into high school. It's just something that never ran in her family.
  
• Wide shoulders -- Her shoulders are wider then most, giving her an extreme hourglass shape with her wide hips. It's normally not a problem for her, but sometimes she gets a little bashful when buying fitted riding coats.

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life'saboutfilmstarsandlessaboutmothers

likes ,

-- chocolate
-- friends
-- rope
-- bubbles
-- food
-- exercise
-- randomness
-- lame jokes
-- baby animals
-- solving difficult problems
-- dancing
-- laughing
-- shorts
-- okra
-- toys
-- purple
-- money
-- cards
-- thunderstorms
-- animals
-- the smell of horse feed
-- sleeping outside
-- getting dirty

dislikes ,

-- no turn signals
-- stupidity
-- kids
-- immaturity
-- annoying individuals
-- people who purposefully try to make me jealous
-- people in general
-- death
-- pain
-- hurt
-- mean / rude / ignorant people
-- getting yelled at
-- the color blue
-- being ignored
-- being alone
-- boredom
-- thinking
-- coffee
-- Brussell sprouts

overall personality , It's kinda hard to talk about myself, tell you how I am because I never really know myself most of the time. I'm a boisterous girl most of the time, filled with laughter and smiles. I'd like to say it's rare to never see me frown but it's not. I know how statistics say it takes 43 muscles to frown and only 17 to smile, but I must say it's so easy to let my face relax into a frown. Guess my cheeks are burnt out from all the smiling in the first place.

A lot of people call me loud and hyper, that's how they mostly see me. I don't like to be sad, or let others know about me. I'm a shady person I guss you could say. I'd much rather hear all your stories rather then tell you any of mine. I don't know why that is, but I just do. I know everything about you but you know nothing about me. I'm an independent person, hate to have others do stuff for me. I always feel obligated or in debt to people when I ask them for a ride or something so minor. It's not a bad thing I guess, but it puts me in difficult spots when I refuse an offer for help.

I'm kinda a tomboy, rather play in the mud, get hot and sweaty then dress up in high heels and mini-skirts. Now don't get me wrong, I'll wear them and I love to wear them, but most of the time I'm in jeans and a t-shirt. I love to talk, it's a downfall of mine. I always got in trouble in elementary school for it. So I'm nice to everyone, always dropping money in the salvation army buckets with the person that has to stand out there in the cold ringing the bell. Yea I care about the people who are less fortunate then me, but I don't feel that sorriness or pity that most do. I wanna help but there's nothing worse then feeling others pity you.

I have a fiery temper sometimes. Gets me into trouble a lot. I like to argue and will fight with a brick wall if I could. I hold grudges and don't forgive easily so don't double cross me. I'll give you your duely-noted respect in the beginning but lose it and it's hard to ever gain it back. You disrespect me and I'll disrespect you. I don't take kindly to orders, or being demanded of things. Please and thankyou were my first words, so I make everyone use them. I'm a detereminded person, hoping to get somewhere with my life. I like to learn and push myself, but sometimes I'm lazy and fall behind. A huge problem of mine is procrastination.

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it'sallaboutfastcarsandcussingeachother

hometown , Chicago , Illinois
family , Mother : Unstable ; Father : Gone ; Grandmother : Caretaker
pets , Horses : Poison Ivy ; Dogs : Delilah
history , I was raised on the back of a horse. Knew how to ride before I could walk. My first word was horse, then mom-mom. My mother was a free spirited tramp that took off with a motorcycle riding rocker that tossed her around a few times before knocking her up then leaving. She swore she'd never return to the ranch my grandmother, Abigail, inherited after the death of her beloved mother. Both women victims of an drunk wife beater. So my mother struggled to care for me as I was a crying newborn, frozen and starving in the cool spring in Virgina.

If my mother was anything, she was anything but stupid [most of the time]. She knew she needed help, but she didn't know where to turn except home. Heartbroken and regretful she returned to that little 100 acre farm, with it's white wrap around porch and freshly painted barn and white picket fence. The cleanliness and perfection made my mother sick, but she needed the help. My grandmother took us in, caring for us both, raising me in the barn, disciplining me in the house. I knew right from wrong quickly, how to say please and thankyou when asking for something. I learned how to groom and tack a horse before I could dress myself, how to dish out oats and grains before I was allowed to use a knife.

See now, my great grandfather had owned a training stable, teaching my grandmother before she left. When my great grandmother was dieing in my dear grandmother came back home and took over the business after divorcing her abusive husband. It was something to start over new with. Sadly my mother never agreed so I came along shortly after and she took off. When she came back she seemed to sober up, quit the partying and drinking, but that was short lived. When I was about two or three she met someone and started down her twisted ways again. My grandmother gave her the option, stay and clean up her act, or leave and never come back, but either way I was staying with her. So like my troubled mother always did, she ran. Far far away, never to return to the one person who needed her most, me.

So I went through most of my life without an actual mother. Now don't get me wrong, my grandmother was great, but she was old. Didn't know the times. So I leaned heavily on the horses at the stable, the eventers and boarders. The school horses and the private studs, the hot blooded arabians to the cool natured quarter horses, wild mustangs to gentle paints. This was my family, my life. I lived morning and night for the smell and sound of horses. I dreamed of them at night, worked with them during the day, read about them in my free time, talked to them when I was lonely.

When I was twelve a very large burly man brought in a grey yearling. A gorgeous filly, with suposedable good ancestry, clearly a warmblood from over seas. She was timid at first, clearly not used to the hustle and bustle of a large stable, then instantly she gained her firey nature and fought with Old Burt, tossing her head this way and that. She skitted around as we unloaded her and I instantly fell in love. The man said she was useless to him at this age, just eating up all his money and taking up space. He wanted her trained or to become old enough to breed, just not in his stable. He gave us his number, paid the down payment for the six months, then said he'd return soon to see her progress. Apparently he wasn't familiar with horses, just a rich rider and breeder because the horse wasn't broken in anything. My grandmother said she was a very spirited horse and that I should stay away from her till Burt had taught her behaviors. Little did she know I went in every morning to groom her, feed her, spent all my free time with her, caring for her, learning from her, teaching her.

When she was old enough to be broken it was me who sat on the top railing watching as they put her first saddle on her. I watched as the old trainer got thrown several times and it made me wonder how the horse who was so gentle with me could be so hot tempered with the old man. I watched as he warmed the bit for her, giving her a sugar cube to slide it in. It was me who wished I had taught her the motion of side kicks and neck reining. I watched regularly as Burt ran her over the poles, and taught her to jump those feeble attempts at an actual obstacle I made. It was me who learned how to tend to her strained muscles from him under my grandmother's nose, who wrapped her in a blanket in the winter, who wiped her down to keep the flies off. It was me who truely cared for her. Then one day the man came back, trailer in tow. He paid the fee and took my beloved Ivy away. I couldn't cry, I just couldn't but she could feel it. I sensed as she looked over her shoulder, walking up the trailer ramp that she didn't want to go. She pulled tight on the halter, her spirited nature. We had been together for 6 years and she wouldn't leave me.

We watched as she left, up and around the bend of the road and out of site. Then I fell and cried, harder then I've ever cried before, tears just streaming down my face. My grandmother picked me up and told me this is the way of life, this is how horse training goes, but no matter what she said, it still hurt. I passed her stall everyday, missing her with all my heart. I moved on slowly, taking care of the others, trying to forget the only horse that ever held my love. Nobody could fill her place. The appeal of horses was lost to me, just going through the day like a robot. Nothing was fun anymore without my Poison Ivy.

Towards my last year in High School I found a college like place that taught all the neccessary things to run a successful stable. Though it wasn't very far away, there was a half day schedule that I could easily get all my work done and still get the education I desperately needed. By now my grandmother was getting on in age and old Burt was pushing 70. It was about time I took over the reins and get a new trainer so why not me? Meredith Manor was a very accredited school that I could easily get a degree in stable management and learn to train and compete horses in different kinds of disciplines. I took my tiem, learned the management, then training techniques for jumping. Though I was young I was dedicated to the education of horses.

I lived that way for about two years, robotic and mechanic, just going through the day like I needed too. Going to class and then coming home and helping with the horses. Then one day there was a call from the local SPCA. A farm had been charged with cruelty to animals a few counties over and they had no room for the large amount of horses and where wondering if we had open spaces to help them out. We recently just sold off a large portion of our stock due to the decrease in the riding classes, everybody bringing their own horses now or moving on. Our barn was failing and more then half of it was empty. By now I was twenty and in charge of most of the stable, my grandmother becoming slower and older. So I rounded up the couple of stable hands that we had hired on, and headed towards the farm.

There were twenty or so horses in the small pen at the humane society, their skin taunt over the high hips and broad ribs. Several had been found dead, and they were all in awful shape. Wide eyed mares sheltered their knobby kneed foals, stallions all but crumbling to fight off the handlers. They'd all be gelded later, as soon as the pen was emptied. All we had to do was mark which ones we were taking and then haul them into the trailer. I figured we could take about four or five, maybe fit a foal or two in to the box stalls. I tried to avoid them as much as possible, they wouldn't be able to bring in much being so young, so I kept my eyes on the single mares. Stallions were off limits, and the geldings didn't appeal to me much. However there was a large bay one that caught my eye first. We loaded him up, hoping to use him as a school horse, or maybe sell him later on. Another black mare, and a bay foal went into the trailer and then a grey mare caught my eye in the back.

The starvation was very prominant on as you looked at her, but you could see her figure underneath. Something about her black socks, and her dappled pelt struck something in my heart. She looked so familiar and as the name left my lips I saw her head turn but there was no recognization in her features. I yelled louder, hoping it was my long lost friend, but as she looked brokenly back at me, I all but broke down and cried. It was my long lost Ivy, I was sure of it, but she didn't remember me the way I never forgot her. She had been sold from that fat guy to another who quickly sold her to this mass breeder. Her skin was dull and she had scars covering her fragile body but she was the horse I knew long ago. As we loaded her in the trailer I couldn't wait to rekindle our friendship, hoping that somewhere deep down she would remember.

So it's been about three years since I've gotten Ivy back. She's now a happy, fat horse like how I rememebered her. She has lost her fiery nature and gained a timid stance, but she cuddles up to me just like she always did. I'm not quite sure if she remembers me or not, but I know she's thankful that I saved her. She had deteriorated in her training and was far behind then what I left her. I hoped to have evented her in something but at the moment she's just a goof off horse. Even with my 5 years of schooling and training she's getting better but she'll never be an Olympic jumper. However we bred her once to another Warmblood stallion, and she gave us a nice little foal that has great potential. I have my fingers crossed he might go somewhere, but for now I'm just happy having his mother back in my life.
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itdoesn'tmatter'cuzi'mpackingplastic

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other , Admin changed
roleplay sample ,

Uggh, I hate cars, especially the back seat. You can just never sit still. Your always bouncing around, especially in Ms. Crandell's 1968 Chevy Camaro. She says it's a classic, though I call it a piece of trash. It this ugly color green. She calls it Dark Sea Foam, but I just call it fresh puke. Ugg. It has these leather seats that stick to your skin, nearly ripping it off when you try to move. She had offered for me to sit in the front, though that was just so she could keep a better eye on me. She's like that you know? She's always watching me, worse then my foster mom. I swear.

"So are you excited?" her whiny voiced pierced through my thoughts.

"Yea, I guess." I replied, not bothering to put on the normally cheerful act that I played around her.

"You don't sound like it." she said, pointing out the obvious. Another special trait of hers.

"Well, it's not like I'm moving to a different house. I'm going to a different state."

"Just think of it as a new experience. You can write all about it. You have the journal I gave you?" She asked.

"Yea, it's in my bag." Truth was, I had no idea where it was. She gave it to me, and I just shoved it in my suitcase.

"Okay, good. You have my number, just in case you may need to call. Write all about your adventure here. You never know, it could be published and then you'd be a famous author, and it all started with a riding center." She ranted in the front seat. I just turned up my Ipod and mumbled a yea.

She went all quiet on me and I gloated in silent success. Smiling, I looked out the car window, watching the trees pass by. I stared at the dotted line for a while until my stomach started to heave. I sat back, closing my eyes, breathing slowly. I glanced out of the corner of my eye, reading the signs, just wondering how long... and then it showed up, Chicago O'Hare International Airport, Next Right. YES! I screamed in my head. I was so close to getting out of this place. Away from Ms. Crandell, my social worker, away from Betty, my foster mom. Away from all those annoying brats that dare call my sissy.

I sat up more straight for the next 20 miles to the airport. My heart was pounding with anticipation. I couldn't wait to get in there and leave this life behind me. ANYTHING would be better then this. Ms. Crandell pulled over in front of the curbside service. She got out, and ran around to my side of the car. As she opened my door, she had a great big smile spreading across her face. I tried to smile back politely but she was just to, well I don't know. She's just creepy to me. I climbed out of the low camaro, leaving the back of my legs on the seat. I hefted the large backpack onto my shoulder, and took a look around.

The place was huge, with hundreds of thousands of people running around, talking. There was a constant procession of vehicles that came and went. I waited as she took my luggage to the counter, and got my boarding passes. I was so glad that I was 15, when they asked how old I was. The minimum age limit for kids to be on their own was 14. That means no babysitters for me. YES! Another triumph. This day just keeps getting better.

The put my luggage on the conveyor belt as Ms. Crandell said her goodbyes. I just smiled and nodded my head. And then I was all alone. She went back to her car, and I just stood there. Silently, I heaved the backpack onto my shoulder again, and headed upstairs. There wasn't a long line through security, and I was quickly on the other side. As I walked towards the gate, I thought for the first time, where exactly was I going? Looking down at the ticket, it didn't say, so I couldn't look at the large, flat screen TVs, that told you the progress of your flight. Frightened, I hurried towards my gate, just making it in time. They had just started boarding rows 1- 5. I was 12, so it wasn't a big deal. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself, and headed into the long tunnel.

.:Time Skip:.

6 hours later, we landed. I was so sore, and had a pounding headache thanks to the little old lady I had sat by. Did you ever notice how old people smell different? Well, maybe it's just me. Many of the people that I had gotten off of the plane with moved on, catching other planes. I was the sole person that turned and headed towards the exit. I walked, out hoping to see someone I recognized, though that was stupid. There was an old frumpy man that held a sign that had my name on it. Frightened, I approached him. He introduced himself as David, and said that he was the taxi driver that will be taking me to Broadview Stables. Smiling, we both walked down to the luggage conveyor to collect my belongings.

Then I sat in the back of yet another car. The landscape all around us was constantly changing. Big cities, to wide desserts, to hilly mountains and dense forest. This really was a strange place, but it sent shiver's down my spine as I anticipated my arrival. I didn't have to wait much longer, because after about an hour, the cab slowed and pulled into a long driveway, revealing to me my new home....

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andthat'swhatmakesmylifesofuckingfantastic

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mmkay. so this application hurr was made by AMANDA IN WONDERLAND !? of caution. steal it or take off this credit, and i shall hunt you down and eat your insides! lyrics credit to lily allen.

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[Richard Eli Calvin]

Accepted. You avatar still isn't working, just to let you know. Don't forget the claims and horse app and welcome to CR!