♔ Tʜᴇ Sᴇʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ♔ {Sᴇᴍɪ﹣Aᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇᴅ Rᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ} discussion

As the silver moon ascended to her place in the foggy sky Azura pawed through the woods, her own inky fur creating a shadowy illusion against the white snow. Her lonely figure slinked through the tree's her gleaming incisors displayed. She knew what she was looking for, that lone rouge tainting the Astor's territory. It was roaming along their boundry line, taunting them, testing their patience.

Enough was enough.

Her nose lifted into the air tracking it's scent. He was nearby, she could tell. Azura wasn't too positive on what she was going to do to the rouge yet; but the mere thought of potentially getting involved into another skirmish just made her mouth curl into a twisted grin. It was all fun and games for her; the adrenaline rushes are almost intoxicating. Azura could shape out the other wolf's silhouette. His bone structure signified a large one (view spoiler)[it just makes the game more exciting (hide spoiler)]. Azura crept closer. But as the excited thoughts of tearing another life force limb from limb whispered in her ear, she lost focus. And she stepped on a fallen tree branch. Without thinking Azura lunged forward at her prey, in desperate hopes of catching the now fleeing creature. Her sharp white teeth snapped onto the poor thing's leg like a bear trap, bringing the beast down.

The fight was a concoction of growls, snarls, and scratches. Azura had the upper hand, clamping down on the leg of the rouge, as it let out a painful bark. The sound was melodic through her ears. His free leg thrashed and kicked Azura in the chest, knocking her backwards and setting him free. He dashed into the night, half limp, half rapid. Azura shook the snow from her black fur and let out a rumbling snarl. The chase begins.

Each of Azura's four legs held it's own, running like a well oiled machine. Her amber eyes were trained on the fleeting figure, but soon they would be heading out of the Astor boundary line. She had to pick up the pace before she entered unknown territory. Her claws dug into the snow with the sheer force and anger coursing through her veins. It was almost too late, and the trouble of getting caught in another family's area almost frightened her (key word almost). Azura sprung forward like a python clamping her jaws onto her real target all along, the neck. Immediately the wolf went limp, rusty water spurting from the wound. She shook the body and dropped it in utter disgust. Even with her knowledge that the rouge was dead she leaned forward and mutter in a low husky growl: "We are capable, we are committed, we are accurate."

"I'm lying on the moon." Paris's voice echoed through the empty room, bounced off the chalkboard covered wall and wafting out the door. She was trying to do something special, something to keep her busy. And so The Moon Song was born. She was currently stuck on the first verse, unfortunately. "My dear I'll be there soon...Yes! that would work beautifully. " She gasped to herself.

Paris shouldn't really be in here right now. Athens told her about 35 minutes ago to pick up some flower seeds for their garden while she was away at work. Yet here she is sitting in her family classroom strumming a ukulele and singing to herself. It's a little hobby, song writing. She could sing pretty beautifully if she really tried; and being poetic is almost a gene passed down from her father. Her progress was scribbled in her most trusted diary journal and the pencil was currently resting in her messy bun.

The sunlight broke out from the clouds and landed in the classroom illuminating the room and brightening her brown eyes to a muddy green. Paris wanted to finish this song so badly; wanting an excuse for her absence in delivering the flower seeds, maybe even telling her sister she wrote the song for her which she really didn't. Paris sighed and leaned back in her chair plucking the stings of her ukulele in an out of tune fashion on purpose in frustration.

"I'm lying on the moon, my dear i'll be there soon......it's a quiet and starry place... Perfect!" She scribbled that in her notebook. Three verses; much song, much progress. She groaned again tossing her journal and pencil over to the side and dropping her ukulele she stood and wiped her eyes, glancing at the time wearily. "Crap" she whispered through her teeth grappling the hems of her long skirt and rushing out the door of the classroom

Did I say 35 minutes ago? I mean't 1 and 35 minutes ago.

She was late. She was so very late. Paris cycled down the street with unforgiving stamina and agility, swerving past pedestrians and things of that nature. "Hello Mrs. Brinim! Sorry I have to go!" She called out in her vaguely British accent to her lovely neighbour, an old widow with an ever growing amount of cats in her abode. "Hello my dear, are you sure you can't stay? I've just got a new kitten, his name is Franklin." Paris lessened the quick speed of her bicycle to shake her head sullenly at the old maid. "I'm sorry I'm in a rush right now. How about later?" She apologized, her abrupt stop causing her hair to collapse out of her bun. Paris gave the woman an apologetic smile and waved. "I apologize again, see you soon!" Paris grinned and pushed her feet on the pedals to quicken up again

Oh her sister is going to kill her.
~~~

"Oh my goodness, Athens I'm so sorry!" Paris gushed running her fingers through her now free locks of brown locks. Her sister nodded absently leafing through pages of her social studies textbook. Venice lay in his crib nearby, and Paris couldn't resist scooping him up and cradling him. "You have to learn to not be forgetful sometimes however." Athens scolded, and closed her book taking Venice from Paris.

"The Selection has been announced...don't you want to be a contestant, you know, after the whole Fergus incident." Athens continued leaning against the doorway of their family room. Paris hesitantly reached her pale fingers to stroke her scar. "I don't suppose the prince would fall in love with me when he has 34 other girls to choose from." Paris sighed tucking a loose strand behind her ear. It was still fun to hope, right?

"I imagine she would be a two, very beautiful...perhaps with blonde hair; men always love blondes, a good temper and a great personality to match. I could never amount to such high quality." Paris mused sitting down with The Marionette a thick classic novel whom she has read over six times. "I would have to be perfect, and no one can be perfect, it's a scientific fact." She added, her voice slightly muffled for she was chewing on her thumb nail. Athens rolled her eyes. "But don't you ever dream he would fall in love with you and you would get married and live a long prosperous life? Maybe with a few children or so and a great big room all to yourself--" "Athens! It will probably never happen. I have 1 in 35 chance of being selected, the odds are very low" Paris chided turning a page of her novel.

A girl could only hope...

Maybe it was the mass of bodies. Maybe it was not knowing who standing right in front of her. Maybe it was just the atmosphere, but as soon as Ava stepped foot into this formal party she immediately wanted to back out. Like a few others, Ava likes the peace and quiet of being by herself with her instruments and her extensive imagination. But something made her want to attend something for once, to finally go to a party since her almost 15th birthday bash.

Ava stood silently at the entrance, the mask giving her some security that nobody would realize who she was. But that was just her vast imagination making her feel secure. In truths, there was no way of escaping her identity because of her damn freckles. Those little monstrosities climbed up and down her bare arms and legs and splashed her face with polka dots. Anyone could realize who it was standing so awkwardly at the entrance, gazing at the food with the intensity of a un-tamed wolf.

Yeah, Ava only came for the food.

18 year old Lindsey Alicia Deseriee was named after a famous actress back before the war, and since she was a two it only seemed fitting for their star daughter to have a star name. Her last name holds much value, since the Deseriees are widely known for being in the circles of the rich and famous. They are rich, not just rich, extremely rich. Her mother is an infamous actress who was previously a model for one of the most widely known magazines in the country. Her father is a star athlete turned director. Their whole life is a story of fame and fortune. But Lindsey is different.

She is a rare two, someone who breaks the mold of a haughty spoiled rich brat. Of course she is grateful for what she has, but often doesn't use her influential power for the wrong reasons. She is sweet and gentle which is extremely unusual because her mother and father don't have a kind bone their body. Lindsey has a pretty good sense of humour and isn't afraid to stand down for something she truly believes in.

▸ please, don't fly away

Lindsey is smart as well. She knows how to shuffle her way around a situation and how to lie with no indication whether she is lying through 3 hard years in acting school, curtsy of her mother. She keeps her head held high, and does not let anything get to her, unless it is an act of betrayal, which is something that can truly hurt her.

Lindsey falls in love easily. It is a pretty hard trait to control. She has had her heart broken more times then she can count. Her cheeks turn pink when she is around someone she has a crush on and she becomes extremely nervous in front of them often and stumbles over her words a lot.


▸ keep on runnin'


Lindsey is a sharp beauty. Her jawbones are high and precise and her nose is thin and pointed. You could tell appearance wise, she is a force to be reckoned with. She stands at 5'6, a below average model height, which is her current occupation with an average weight and maintains a shy from perfect fashion sense. Her eyes are a cat-like blue, light and accusing although her gaze is usually a soft and gentle one. Her lips are a natural pink, and her teeth are perfectly straight and gleaming white.

Her hair is a golden hue and usually flows down her back a few inches past her shoulders. Lindsey enjoys girly dresses and such, but despises high heels for they are certainly one of the most uncomfortable shoes in all of human history.


▸ back towards me

The birth of Lindsey was a very public affair, more popular than the wedding between her parents. She was hailed as the 'next great star' in many different magazines. And the Deseriee family ate it all up. Her mother and father's heads were already inflated to maximum capacity, well it seemed at least; but with all the attention caused by Lindsey, they took it upon themselves to show her in the public eye as much as possible. Her first birthday was televised and every aspect of her life was not far away from the lenses of the press.

After her 9th birthday, her mother forced her into pageants, so she could let everyone bask in her daughter's glory. But sometimes it was all about her mother, never about what Lindsey wanted to do. She Lindsey quint pageantry at the ripe age of 14 and refused to do anything her mother suggested.

Her joining the Selection was all based on teenage rebelliousness. Her mother wanted Lindsey to marry the son of a billionaire; someone she didn't love, she entered the Selection in hopes of getting away from home. When she received the letter, she was the only one who was overjoyed.

[ relations › she loves to try

▸ mother - ɢᴇᴏʀɢɪᴇ ᴅᴇsᴇʀɪᴇᴇ
● ● ○ ○ ○

▸ father - ᴄᴀsʜ ᴅᴇsᴇʀɪᴇᴇ
● ● ● ○ ○

p a r t : : t w o

❝ I wilted and died and wilted and died ❞

❪ ➸ ᴄʟᴇᴠᴇʀ ➸ ᴄʜᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ ➸ ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴛ ➸ ❫

❪ ➸ ᴅᴇᴍᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ ➸ ❫

( ʟɪᴋᴇs 'ɴ ᴅɪsʟɪᴋᴇs )

➶ ɢɪʀʟʏ ɢɪʀʟ sᴛᴜғғ ➶ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ➶ ᴘᴏʟɪᴛɪᴄs/ʟᴀᴡ ➶
➴ ɢʀᴀʙʙʏ ᴍᴇɴ ➴ ʙᴀsᴇʙᴀʟʟ ➴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ ᴘɪɴᴋ ➴

❪ ➸ ʙʟᴜɴᴛ ➸ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ➸ ᴅᴀʀɪɴɢ ➸ ❫

❪ ➸ ʟᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ➸ ❫

( sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs 'ɴ ᴡᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs )

➹ ᴄʜᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ ➹ ғᴀsᴛ ʟᴇᴀʀɴᴇʀ ➹ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ➹
➷ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ʙʀᴀᴛᴛʏ ➷ sᴘᴏɪʟᴇᴅ ➷ ʜᴇʀ ᴘᴀsᴛ ➷

{ female. straight. seventeen. nov. 29th. year four }