Post by rachel barbra berry on Jun 1, 2011 21:10:12 GMT -5
You Can Read Me
---------------Like an open book
---------------Like an open book
You Can Tear Me Down
---------------And bring be back Again
THE BASICS
---------------And bring be back Again
THE BASICS
Name // Rachel Barbra Berry
Age // 17, April 11, 1994
Gender // Female
Race // White
Relgion // Jewish
Orentation // hetrosexual
EVERYTHING ELSE
Personality //
Rachel is a girl who knows what she wants and if it is anything in her reach she will grab it. Most see her almost cocky side, but she only sees it as confidence. This especially rings true when it is in a field that she particularly knows, as in her dancing, acting and singing. She knows she will be a star, and she will make sure everyone knows it. The people that she talks to, if they aren’t pushed away by her almost annoying know-it-all attitude will surely be pushed away by the fact that she rambles, on and on about anything and everything. It isn’t nearly her fault, Rachel can’t help her compulsive need to talk about everything, but it clearly is one of her flaws. She loves her music, and laves her art, but when people seriously torment the things she cares so deeply about, she can break down. Rachel wasn’t built a strong a steal girl, but she isn’t a twig either. Friends seem to be come and go, seeing the fact she doesn’t really think about what she says before it falls out of her mouth like vomit. But she is sweet, caring, artistic, a romantic – who has never had a boyfriend – and will always know, deep in her heart, where her loyalties are.
Family //
Shelby Corcoran - Mother
Hiram Berry- dad
Leroy Berry- dad
Physical //
Let me get this out, and let it be heard , I am not perfect – beautifully, but what I don’t have physically, I make up in my star like wonder. My hair is brown, and never seems to do exactly what I wish it to do. Days I want it to be completely flat, the edges curl up like the manicured tips of Santana’s coal black eyelashes, and visa-versa. It never looks awful, I would never do that, but it isn’t what it exactly needs to be. My eyes are brown, and my face is usually free of blemishes, besides the uncommon black head found hiding on my nose – which by the way, is larger than normal because of the face that I am Jewish. I have an average height, and body type. My breasts are extremely large, and my waist isn’t so small I could touch my hands together. Needless to say, I am not huge, I’m a healthy skinny, the making of a star. I don’t have the ‘style’ that most people seem to look for. I wear plaid skirts, kitten sweatshirts and stockings, all of which I and my father’s love, even if the rest of the school doesn’t. I’m more conservative in my clothing than the rest of the school is – but it does not bother me, not one bit.
History //
I am Rachel Barbra Berry, child of two perfect fathers – both of which I would be nothing without. I do know the mother, my mother, the one who actually birthed me, but i know the parents who raised me, and they are ten times the parents that most people could ever be. My mother was the Vocal Adrenaline Coach, and I really wish that somehow we would be closer. She is beautiful, and her voice is only matched by mine. Even though i love my mothe. No one could take the love that I have for my fathers away, even the people who scoff about the fact that they are gay. Even though most people in this town would assume that because I have two fathers, I would miss out on normal family experiences, nothing could be more wrong. Before I could speak I was in tap and ballet classes, and when I actually started speaking, they put me in voice and acting lessons. They saw the spark in me, and they knew that it needed to be honed, to be polished and buffed; perfected. That spark that I now call the Star Effect. Every Broadway star has it, and even as a baby my dads could see it in me. So now where am I? Broadway..? Sitting in New York? Not yet – I attend William McKinley high school full of barbarians, high school jocks, and obnoxious cheerleaders often called ‘cheerios’ which just fans the flame of hatred in this school. I’m Jewish, which puts me out even more, but I don’t much mind my religion – it shouldn’t be something that other students can gawk at, and if they do I will ignore it. All the students are naïve if they think that something like that could hurt a star like me. I’m strong, I’m the lead in most of the plays and musicals I have ever been in, and I will fight for what I want. Even though I can be tormented at times, my strength will pull me through, and every student that ever slandered my name will feel really dumb when I am a star and they are nothing. Though things have gotten better, ove the last two years, and my boyfriends haven't all worked , we as new directions will get to nationals again, and we will win.
Rp Sample
“That spot is mine!” Rachel cired ans she plopped down on her plush be at home. Both of her fathers were out, and she was alone to wollow in her own pitty. She did not mean to be harsh, nor did she mean for her words to come off in a way that made her look and sound like a brat; but she deserved this, and every fiber of her soul was telling her the same exact thing. After countless hours of practicing her song, day by day, a song from one of her favorite musicals at the time – Godspell – and scouring over the many monologues that she had learned, memorized and embodied many times, she knew she had put on a spectacular show for the director. But his sudden unamused face, and how he nonchalantly waved her off the stage put a thorn in Rachel Berry’s side that she couldn’t seem to remove. Like a tick on a dog it seemed to consume her, feed of the life-force inside, keeping the sleep from her, the happiness, making every second drag on until the end of the week when she knew Sandy would post – she just knew it.
Though the man had an odd rumor going around about him, and some of the guys at her school, Rachel seemed to swat away the buzzing bee-like rumors, knowing that it didn’t matter. If he was messing with the guys then yes, that was disturbing, and she hoped he got help – but all she cared about now was seeing her name next to that one character, the one she knew she could be.
There would not be much of a crowd, Rachel knew that and was ready for it when the last class of her day was over. Quickly packing up her books and shoving them in her bag, Rachel adjusted her sweater – one of her favorites, argyle blue and black, with a white collared shirt underneath – and brushed at her skirt, a black one that fanned out her knees, almost matching the black knee socks and her white hospital shoes. Hair working for her, fell over her shoulders, curling only lightly at the end. A few snickers, coming from a few football players in the back of the room made Rachel’s head swivel, her hips pivot, and her brown eyes locking on theirs. One of them was commonly called ‘Puck’ and he was the biggest bully of the school. Also, not that she cared, he was also a Jew, like herself. Crinkling her nose in disgust, disgust at how a Jewish boy could be that rude.
Without a word, knowing that her intimidating stare would do enough, she turned back around, and allowed herself to walk out of the classroom, trying to weave herself through the throng of students that were nearly hurling themselves down the hall trying to get home. It was then her feet came to a stop, cemented to the ground, the girl was almost confused for a moment, until she tilted her eyes, just slightly, to see the names of the students picked for their rendition of Grease.
“where are you..?” she murmured under her breath, an index finger running it through the names of students she didn’t much care about until she found hers. Letting her eyes close, a smile on her red lips, Rachel let her finger slide horizontally across the paper where she assumed her character would be. With a flick of her normal, muted eyelashes, she saw the name. Sandy. She did it. Rachel had done it again. “Yes!” Rachel turned, a successful smile all over her face.
“why are you smiling?” it took her only a moment to recognize the voice, and a second after that to feel the chill cold of the slushy hit her face. Frozen in terror, Rachel didn’t move, or speak, she kept her eyes locked on Puck’s stupid grin until he spoke once more, “congrats – loser”
.
Though the man had an odd rumor going around about him, and some of the guys at her school, Rachel seemed to swat away the buzzing bee-like rumors, knowing that it didn’t matter. If he was messing with the guys then yes, that was disturbing, and she hoped he got help – but all she cared about now was seeing her name next to that one character, the one she knew she could be.
There would not be much of a crowd, Rachel knew that and was ready for it when the last class of her day was over. Quickly packing up her books and shoving them in her bag, Rachel adjusted her sweater – one of her favorites, argyle blue and black, with a white collared shirt underneath – and brushed at her skirt, a black one that fanned out her knees, almost matching the black knee socks and her white hospital shoes. Hair working for her, fell over her shoulders, curling only lightly at the end. A few snickers, coming from a few football players in the back of the room made Rachel’s head swivel, her hips pivot, and her brown eyes locking on theirs. One of them was commonly called ‘Puck’ and he was the biggest bully of the school. Also, not that she cared, he was also a Jew, like herself. Crinkling her nose in disgust, disgust at how a Jewish boy could be that rude.
Without a word, knowing that her intimidating stare would do enough, she turned back around, and allowed herself to walk out of the classroom, trying to weave herself through the throng of students that were nearly hurling themselves down the hall trying to get home. It was then her feet came to a stop, cemented to the ground, the girl was almost confused for a moment, until she tilted her eyes, just slightly, to see the names of the students picked for their rendition of Grease.
“where are you..?” she murmured under her breath, an index finger running it through the names of students she didn’t much care about until she found hers. Letting her eyes close, a smile on her red lips, Rachel let her finger slide horizontally across the paper where she assumed her character would be. With a flick of her normal, muted eyelashes, she saw the name. Sandy. She did it. Rachel had done it again. “Yes!” Rachel turned, a successful smile all over her face.
“why are you smiling?” it took her only a moment to recognize the voice, and a second after that to feel the chill cold of the slushy hit her face. Frozen in terror, Rachel didn’t move, or speak, she kept her eyes locked on Puck’s stupid grin until he spoke once more, “congrats – loser”
.
WHAT ABOUT YOU
Name // Br!tt.
Age // 17
RP experiance // 10
Other // I made this place yo'
