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Carter, Natalie
Topic Started: Dec 18 2010, 03:08 AM (197 Views)
Natalie Carter
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N A T A L I E J A N E C A R T E R

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* a heart of my own, burn it down low.
the light in your verse and the shadow between,
the way that I was when I used to roam. .

HEY THERE. THE NAME IS KAIT, AND I AM TWENTY-ONE.
I'VE BEEN ROLEPLAYING FOR ABOUT NINE YEARS
AND MY OTHER CHARACTERS WOULD BE NON-EXISTENT. I FOUND FKAC AT RPG-D. OH, BY THE WAY, I READ THE RULES. WANT PROOF?
THE CODE WORD IS ALTERNATE UNIVERSE
WANT TO REACH ME? HERE'S MY IM: NOW THAT WOULD BE TELLING!

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My beloved mother and father believed in their hearts that this life would be for me a better life. One that which even without complete freedom in the comings and goings could bring about a better quality of living than they could ever give. But, with all verity I can muster to my mind I must express that I feel I am destined to grow old without age; to put all others before myself before I have even chanced to live, love, and dream of better things. I cannot say that I am miserable on all accounts, but I digress; something is missing.

I was born nineteen years ago in 1492 during a cold November, the second child to Sir Harold Carter and his wife Lady Rosanna of Yorkshire. My brother John served as a sort of exemplar in my early years and thus I admired him greatly, until the terror of tuberculosis took his young life. Many came from far and wide to extend their sympathies, but no kind words could dull the anguish. My mother seemed to, without his life, lose much interest in her own. What it is like to watch one's own child pass into oblivion is a thing I shall not likely experience or desire to. Many women are married younger than I, and time passes swiftly; this united with my unconventional visage will further prevent it. I am not, and have never been, a distinguished candidate for marriage.

But, I have always sworn that I would marry for love, regardless of rank. I have often found that those not born into the peerage have a better sense of worth and appreciation of what it means to be truly happy. If I should marry at all, it will be for love. I would rather grow old without it than die in certain melancholy, if I should marry at all. If I should marry at all.

If you have not deduced the evident, I am a lady-in-waiting. I am the lady-in-waiting to the ever-snarky Catherine Willoughby, one whom after all this time I might consider my closest friend. I apply this endearment loosely to the woman who is one year my junior, as she is still one I must serve. On rare occasion I find that I am envious of her; a beautiful, intelligent woman who has found the coveted road paved for the rest of her life, and has a grasp on what to do should something change. This is how I perceive her now, but it is not how it has always been. Catherine is forever changing now, and I am stationary.

Back in the early days, I used to play with the common children when I could get away. Come to think of it, I do believe my father let me escape. I also believe this is why I share such a strong connection with them and desire nothing but the best. My best friend was a young boy some very few years my senior but I have not seen of heard of him since my leaving home. It is to be expected, but at my young age I mourned his absence as though he had passed on. He had been perhaps a semblance of my brother and thus I had experienced two great losses before the age of sixteen.

With his male offspring deceased, it left my father, Sir Harold, with one choice. I became the lady-in-waiting to Catherine Willoughby --now Dudley-- as I have said before. We had taken lessons together throughout our years and it was a way to make another connection from the Carter family to another. It was the first time in my life that my father ordered me to hold my tongue and know my place. How is it said? C'est la vie.

I pray that in time I will learn acceptance; to live, love, and dream of better things. I yearn for a road; one that leads to a worthwhile conclusion so that when I am met with the face of God above, I shall kiss his feet; not spit on them.







  • - - - - Roleplay Sample,

    The footsteps did not disturb the girl, twitching lightly from the pills' effects, the knifework almost becoming more of a work of art to her than a game. Rather, she counted the steps, using them as a template as to how many cuts she should make in her perfect design.

    But suddenly one of those steps wasn't a step at all. It turned into a voice. And her head twitched a little more heavily to the left than the new norm, and her hand closed over the blade, pressing it to her palm. Her eyes cast up towards where the voice had come from. They met the face of what appeared to be her leader.

    "Do not you mean why? Misery loves its company, and for twenty-two years it has been in mine."

    She shrugged. Time to be philosophical.

    "Maybe one day I will find myself content in solitude. I would be one of those quiet sleepers in the earth; a silent wanderer. The faces, they will change. But the walls that surround them will not. Some things will be familiar, in five centuries. What disaster and destruction might change, time rebuilds. And those born around reconstruction will be too young to remember it - everything and everyone that ever came before.

    Speaking of love does not relieve pain. It still nips my tongue when my lips are shut. I cannot kiss like I desire; I cannot embrace another. My body can only freeze itself into a few different motions and actions of another's death. That kiss is not tender, and the embrace too rough. But I must be content with this. I cannot ask another to take on my burden; I am not capable of love. It is not in my blood. And it has been proven many times, over and over again, that I cannot be loved."


    Philosophical, over her dead body. She leapt up from her place at the wall, knife gripped in hand; it possibly startled the prince into thinking she intended to use it to strike him, but she didn't. She only tightened her grip on the blade, pressing it deeper into the flesh of her clenched hand. She didn't know how close she was to him at the moment; how far that was. All she knew was it was too close for his comfort; her lips close enough to touch his if she leaned forward an inch or two, but she kept back, parting them in a seemingly quiet confrontation.

    "None of this - nothing I have said before now has been what you wanted to hear, was it. It answered none of your questions. You do not care if I am alright. You want to know why I choose to sit here alone, and why I make myself bleed. You want to know why. I think you already know; you have been here too. You have been there and done it - I bet you still do it sometimes. You know it. You have been down that road; do not tell me you have never been down there!"

    Her tone relaxed, and as she opened her hand, eyes trailing to it, watching the blade fall from its wound - the line it left there. It was crimson and deep. Her voice fell to a whisper.

    "Pain is one of the only things we can control in this life. How much, or how little. Where, and what kind. We have the power to break every bone in our bodies, or give a simple pin prick. We can make the pain in our heads, psychologically. And though we are, as they say, immortal - we can still make ourselves die."

    - 'Regal Mackenzie' in Unconsolidated Affliction, Vampire Coven on July 29th, 2007.
[align=center] THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY THATSNOTMYNAME ! @ CAUTION EDITED BY LANIE OF FKAC [/align]
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Catherine Willoughby
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vérité sans peur
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Make sure to head on over to the FACE CLAIM and claim your PB.
We want to know the person behind the character! INTRODUCE yourself.
Plot with other characters in the PLOT FORUM,
Want to join in threads with others, but not sure what to write first? Hop on into the THREADING EXTRAVAGANZA.
And be sure to post your info in the CONTACT LIST.[/align]
[align=center]"I must shape my own coat according to my cloth, but it will not be after the fashion of this world but fit for me."

Catherine is in 2 threads.
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