EMANCIPATED MINOR*, ( remy silver )

[River Connolly-Sakahrov]

valkyrie, california ,

[/color]



And I can't say I envy her, I don't think I miss it,
Wrought iron cobwebbing over thin windowpanes.
The city seducing you on tiptoe to kiss it.
Don't think twice, just roll the dice, roll the dice.[/center]


the ocean breathes salty ,[/b][/size][/color]
roleplayer ,

name: captain asia,
cookie stalker, canada-head, captain co-cupake, midnight amiga & SPN whore,
age: seventeen and a half. almost.
gender: people say i'm asexual, but i have information leading to my declaration of my femininity.
years roleplaying: almost nine, or so.
other characters: them flingers.<3

collected my belongings ,[/b][/size][/color]
character facts ,

full name: remy blythe silver.
gender: female.
age: eighteen, almost nineteen.
university year: freshman. (attends the community college.)
major: bachelor of arts.
minor: N/A.
job: waitress at La Fleur Violette, "works" in the drag-racing scene.
portrayed by: odette yustman.
appearance: Looking at a girl like Remy Silver, you could think a number of things. Just like anybody, she was often judged on her appearance. I mean, think about it, ninety-nine percent of one’s first impression is their outwardly looks, how they carry themselves. According to some rather unscientific studies, a person has a mere three seconds to make an impression on a stranger before they judge them. Sounds shallow and rude, but it’s true. You can pretend all you want, but you’re like that too. See this girl walking through the streets of Valkyrie, and it would probably take half of a second to judge her. Again, there are a handful of thoughts that could enter that criticizing little mind of yours. Maybe you think she’s just another California girl, with the bikini body and sun-drenched face. Perhaps she seems like something out of the pages of a magazine – so surreal, you can’t believe it. However, chances are, you’d think she’s just another grimy college student. The people in Valkyrie, California, are generally known for their impeccable appearances. I think there are some girls who won’t go to the convenience store for hangover fixtures at three in the morning without four inch heels on. Girls like that have their hair and make-up done to perfection every second of every day. Maybe you’re lucky and can be stunning when you’re completely natural; having the clothes and the hair are just sprinkles on the cake. Unfortunately for this Silver girl, she had never been blessed with such attributes. She wore little make-up, and was often seen in loose jeans with UGG boots. Not exactly the formula for a supermodel. So, yeah, you could think any number of things when you saw a pretty girl with a sweet little smile. Evil, or not. Beautiful, or plastic. Sophisticated or not. Up to you, really.

Like the rest of the Silver family, Remy Silver is a decent looking girl. Living in Valkyrie, you have to be. Ever since she was young, people told her she was beautiful, if a bit bland looking. Cruel, I know, but apparently she needed to know these things. To this day, she had no idea why. If you think someone is attractive, don’t you generally tell them, and leave it at that? No point in speaking longer than you need to. But, things had always been done a little bit differently under the Silver household. As one of Valkyrie’s oldest, and most traditional, families, telling the blunt and honest truth is something one is taught at a very young age. Well, no, only to tell the blunt and honest truth to those who are not really deserving of your company. Darren and Sarah Silver, good people they are, seemed to take a lot of pride in their social standing. With a bank account that went much deeper than even Valkyrie Academy’s, not to mention a squeaky-cleaned reputation, they could do just that. And, sadly enough, if you were not model-level gorgeous, you did not deserve to be in the company of a Silver. That was the problem right there, see? Remy Silver was borderline beautiful, everyone knew that, but it had never seemed to be good enough for her parents, see. A Silver was gorgeous, stunning, untouchable. She was beautiful, sure, but she didn’t stop people in the street. While people constantly commented on her good looks, it had never been her parents. She was too bland looking for them, much too boring. She didn’t stand out the way a Silver girl should. Decent looking, but apparently not good enough.

Maybe it was her face. The face made someone, didn’t they? If you were polite and kind, you would compliment a girl on her beautiful face. None of this “she’d be so pretty if she lost sixty pounds!”. What the fuck is that? See, in the eyes of Remy Silver, the face is where the beauty is at. She had meant countless models while living with her parents and, quite frankly, they had been fucking scary looking. Killer physique ( too skinny in her opinion ) but with the face of a possessed toddler, she didn’t get it. But, like always, her opinions didn’t matter. Never had. Growing up, her mother had spent more time nitpicking the flaws in her face than anything else. Guess if your body is respectable, something must be wrong with your face. But, really, she didn’t see anything wrong with it. Devoid of angular cheekbones and narrow eyes, Remy shared her facial structure with her younger sister, Tristan. Truthfully, neither girls looked anything like their mother. Stereotypical with blonde highlights and a fat-free face, you’d think they were someone else’s daughters. Instead, Remy had gotten her looks from her father – whom had a youthful face with his dimpled cheeks and round structure. But the man had a stiff sort of authority to him. When he entered a room, your attention was immediately diverted in his direction. Maybe it was his posture. It had to be. Tristan had been born with the same posture. People looked at her, too. Remy slouched. No one ever looked at her like that.

Maybe people didn’t look at her like that for a reason. See, for her entire life, Remy Silver had been nothing like the rest of her family. I’m not saying she’s a nice girl, seeing as she isn’t, but the rest of her family was always so…angry, for lack of a better word. You’d have a better chance in finding a size fourteen teenage girl there than a happy, smiling family. Yeah, SO not going to happen. As we all know, the Silver family of Valkyrie, California, are often known for three traits: bitterness, bitchiness and blue eyes. To a certain extent, Remy is bitter. And there’s no guessing in the fact that she can be something of a bitch. Perhaps it was the last thing that made Remy the black sheep of her family. There was no doubting in the fact that nearly every person with the surname of Silver had blue eyes. Sarah Silver had eyes the color of the ocean. Darren Silver stared out of eyes so dark, they almost looked navy. Tristan had piercing eyes like shattered glass; even Max would stare at you through irises the color of the California sky. Landon, too, had never lost the bright baby blues he had been born with. And then there was Remy. People say she was a genetic defect. Something that went terrible wrong at birth. Because, you see, her stare was not colored any shade of blue. Not navy, periwinkle, cobalt…nothing. Instead, her blue eyes had faded during the first few weeks of her life and settled into a chocolate brown. A brown so dark that they almost looked black, not navy. Maybe she just was a genetic defect. She was, after all, missing the key attribute to being a Silver, shallow as that sounds.

Genetic defect or not, Remy Silver was still a full-blooded member of the Silver family. She really was the daughter of both Sarah and Darren Silver. They could deny it all they want ( daughter? Oh, Tristan? ) but it was true to the fact. Her birth certificate held both of their signatures, and would for a long time. There really were striking similarities between her and the female members of her family. She had the same smile as both Max and Tristan, actually. Instead of sharpening and defining themselves, her cheekbones would raise and turn her into an innocent twelve year-old. Her toothy grin and unfortunately “chubby” face could key her into those family reunions. She really did take after her father. No wonder she never gave her useless mother a second look while growing up. She denied being related to them, too.

Well, it was her mother. She denied being related to her mother. The woman was just a waste of plastic surgery and space. And I thought the Silver’s were supposed to be “rare, excellent members of society.” Her parents never failed to tell her that everytime she got in trouble during high school. If they were so rare, why was her mother just as falsely hot as the rest of the mothers living in the Valks? She was tall, too-skinny, had a few fake noses and weekly Botox. She had grey hair with blonde highlights and fat lips that looked too unnatural. She wasn’t beautiful, not even close. Her children were beautiful because they looked like their father, not the female Michael Jackson named Sarah. While Remy did resemble her father, like Tristan, there were also nasty remainders of who her mother was. Darren Silver was a tall man, reaching a solid five feet, eleven inches. Sarah towered at supermodel height of five feet, nine inches. It ran in the family to be of tall, thin stature. Lucky them, right? Surprisingly enough, this was one attribute Remy had not been left out of. Since she was young, Remy had been tall for her age. In ninth grade, she had been given yet another unexpected growth spurt and rocketed to the towering height of five feet, ten inches. During that time, she began to mature and seemed to leave puberty much earlier than other girls her age. While females her age now seem to still be developing in some areas, she had been poised in her adult body from sixteen. She was built just like her mother, with more leg than torso, and few curves to accommodate for her height. While she was in no way “boyish” or shaped something like a twelve year-old, miss Remy definitely didn’t scream “sexpot” with her physique. Shame really, because, apparently, she should have been. Parents know best, right?

Apart from a rather strict space for physical differences, there is one more thing a Silver is supposed to pride herself in. No matter what sort of person you are – slut, awkward, classy – your wardrobe is a very important thing. For someone in the spotlight around Valkyrie, the Silver’s were all rather impeccable dressers. From a young age, Tristan had dressed sophisticated beyond her years. In the last few years, her style had been pared back into something sophisticated, yet trendy. It screamed Manhattan power. Max, on the other hand, had arrived in her jeans and t-shirts. A supposedly unbreakable style. But, guess what, Valkyrie is a poisonous town full of poisonous people. Last time Remy had seen the younger Silver girls around Valkyrie, she had already dyed her hair brown and was beginning to show a more stylish version of herself. More casual, but it was still impeccable and probably designer. Every Silver has their own sense of style, but it was always perfect. Remy had been raised on the same thought process. From an early age, she had morphed herself into something a fashionista. A little bit trendy, a lot sophisticated. But you tend to dress better when your wallet reaches to the bowels of hell and back. Hidden away in her closet is indeed a few designer frocks from when she lived at home. However, as the days pass, Remy Silver seems to be drifting away from this picture perfect image her family has around Valkyrie. She owns more UGG boots than Jimmy Choos, and is often seen around in loose jeans and a leather jacket, not skinny jeans with a fitted little blouse. But hey, she’s just busting down doors all over the place, isn’t she?

in your head, in mouth ,[/b][/size][/color]
character personality ,

personality:

( damaged minds )

Sometimes, people are born a certain way. They can naturally be a happy, bubbly person – it takes a lot to change that. In the age old debate of “nature versus nurture” has anyone found a real answer yet? Each time, the opposing side wins. No one can know the answer, just have their beliefs. Does nurture win over nature in many ways? Absolutely. It just does, so don’t argue with me. But, when you think in that logic, can’t someone be born damaged? Sometimes, one’s mind is just wired to be cynical and narcissistic. And, like above naturally happy and bubbly person, it takes a great deal to change that. When someone is a natural pessimist, people just say that they’re looking for attention, they aren’t really like that. But someone comes along who is a little ray of sunshine? It’s all about “oh! She was a care bear from the moment she was born!” What the fuck is up with that? But, when you look at the mind of a miss Remy Silver, there was nothing one could say. She was one of the privileged few to be born into a life of health and wealth, money and honey. She had the best of everything, right at her finger tips. She should have one of the happiest kids in the world. But what’s that age old saying? Money can’t buy happiness?

From an early age, it was clear that Remy was a little different from the rest of her family. Was it enough to signal the sirens? No, not really. It was just the little things. While the rest of her happy little family had been snobby and happy, little Remy was left outside in the rain. She never saw the point in the material blessing that had been set upon her. There was just always too much on her mind, to be honest. She saw the world from a negative side, you could say. She wore the pretty party dresses and the painful high heels, yes, but it was never with the same attitude as Tristan would soon possess. And the past several have really done nothing to help that little problem. Naturally, she was a bit tortured, dark even. She saw the world in a dark light, and everyone knew it, too. She was damaged for an unspoken, unknown reason. The girl knew too much than she should have, really. How someone so young and privileged could be affected by what was going on in Africa or the Middle East was anyone’s guess.

And since her father so heartlessly booted her from the house? So, you could say nature and nurture took part in this. It was a work in progress, actually. Remy Silver is three things – damaged, angry and unpredictable. While the thought of this cruel emancipation had never held her back, it didn’t mean it didn’t haunt her. On the contrary, the thoughts followed her around everyday. In the three years since she’s been on her own, there has been no communication between her and her family. Estranged, cut-off, divorced…whatever the fuck you want to call it. Something like that doesn’t happen to a person and not change them. That night left a big old cut across Remy Silver. In time, that gash healed into a scarred wound. Something there, but easily ignored – if you look hard enough, it’s not even there. But, sometimes wounds get infected. Her wounds have been infected for a hell of a long time. Remy Silver is a nice girl, she really is. But something just can’t be right upstairs. Being wounded has become a part of her character, you could say. Not a day goes past without someone getting reminded about the mental scars etched across the eighteen year-old’s face. Long story short? Remy Silver likes to lash out. Randomly. Out of the blue, you could see the death glare in her eyes and wish you could be somewhere else. One minute, she’s fine. The next, she’s spitting fire. Say one wrong thing around a ticking time bomb, and something is bound to go off, no?

( unpredictably bipolar )

But, I mean, no one stable can really be like that, right? Well, sure they can. They’re just sitting in dark prison cells trading people for cigarettes. Ew. The last thing you’d see is Remy Silver within the walls of a prison. She could be on her own, but some of that Valk-girl intuition was still there. Maybe that was part of the problem, though. Even after three or more years of living on her own, by herself, with no one to depend on, Remy still had some of the Silver blood running through her veins. They could deny it all they wanted, but every single younger generation of her family were rebellious. That comes with being rich and beautiful. Her parents were so easily fooled, she could have gotten away with murder during her younger teenage years. See, Remy Silver was a clichéd story of poor little rich girl. As soon as she entered her high school years at the local Valkyrie Academy, she had been testing her parent’s limits. Everything she did and got away with, she did it worse the next time. You can only imagine what she accomplished after two and a half years of this – she was kicked out half-way through her junior year. By the time she turned seventeen years of age, Remy had gone to the moon and back. She had never been given any sort of guidance or direction for her actions, not even consequences. Getting yelled at once in awhile would have been nice, you know.

And, because of this, she morphed even farther into her dark little world. And, at seventeen, and being on her own, it came with an unlimited amount of freedom. That really couldn’t have been something to help her case. When shoved into a living situation like that, what do you think was going to happen? From someone who had always been naturally rebellious and fun, Remy kicked down even those walls. During her first few of months of life on her own, the girl transformed into something dark. Something kind of scary. She thrived on getting her blood pumping, on seeing how far she could push the envelope before someone took notice and called the cops. Like hell she was going to sit in a jail cell, even for a night. Don’t get me wrong, Remy had always been a rather spirited girl. Just in those few months after her seventeenth birthday, it seemed to go from spirited and right into downright reckless. I know, I know, half of Valkyrie is reckless. But it was a little bit different, you know? She’d do things on par just because someone dared her too. There was nothing she would do for a quick buck, you could say. Her spontaneity turned quickly into dangerously unpredictable – no one ever knew what she was going to do next – and her recklessness became borderline dangerous. Once, three months after living in the Shaks, she got her first tattoo - right on her back – because someone drunkenly suggested it. I’d call the doctor, too.

It all made sense then. Everything did. Her ups and downs, the sudden onset recklessness and the need for an adrenaline rush. One minute she was angry, the next she was smiling happily. Bipolar disorder. That’s what her clinical physician diagnosed her with within two weeks of the initial tattoo disaster. She got shoved out the door with a pile of pills and a prescription telling everyone that she was armed and dangerous. Would you know what to do with yourself? Absolutely not. Even today, more than a year later, Remy Silver lives day to day, minute to minute. There’s no telling in what tomorrow will bring, right? Another chance to bungee jump? You bet.

( shak girl on the track )

It’s become something a stereotype, being a girl from the Valks. Much more so than people of the male variety. If you were rich, you were beautiful and skinny and had designer clothing. It didn’t matter who you were or what you acted like, that’s all there was to it. You went to cocktail functions and went wild soon afterward. You were classy, but not too classy. You fooled your parents easily. You had an unlimited credit card and lawyers and therapists at the snap of mommy or daddy’s fingers. For awhile there, that’s exactly what Remy Silver was like. She was never the Anne Levesque of Valkyrie Academy, but she had enough to get herself on a rung fairly high on the social ladder. It just came with the territory, you know? If you were rich and good-looking, that’s generally all it took to become popular. Whatever that means. But now that she’s living on her own? It’s a bit of a different story. In the years following her emancipation, Remy turned into a different person. She was still Remy Silver, of course, just modified a little. She was herself, only in overdrive. Everything about the girl had been turned up to eleven since getting kicked-out. Lovely, isn’t it? Besides, falling off the face of the planet for a few years allows someone to revamp themselves slightly.

For several years until she finished high school, the most you could see of Remy Silver was spotting her in the early hours of the morning go to the V-mart to buy milk or bread. She was no longer the fierce girl who had once kind of be a true Silver girl. During the day, she wore loose jeans with UGG boots and little to no make-up. She developed a new love for video games and take-out food, and she became accustomed to having her electricity turned off at random times when she didn’t pay the bill. At night, of course, her skirts became shorter than before, and her tops became much more revealing. So much for being a clone of what Tristan is today. In the span of a few short years, Remy had done the biggest transformation of all – and I’m talking about those controversial chin-implants either. From Valk-girl to Shak-girl was something no one ever did, no one ever dreamed of. They talked about it happening, but it never really did. Once a rich bitch, always a rich bitch. She had heard Daphne Hayes had turned out to reside in the Shaks, but so what? The girl was too nice to be considered a true Valk-girl, anyway. All her life, Remy had just been one stereotype after another. And with a good reason, they described her well. Love it or hate it, and she hated it, that’s what the truth is. Or was. Whatever. We all know what these Shak girls are like. They party but they hang with the boys. They’re repulsive and manipulative, but they have no shame. They like boys in leather jackets and that drive pimped out muscle cars. She especially liked the muscle cars.

Only in recent months has Remy become interested in cars. It comes with video games and basketball, I guess. While classier than the other Shak girls, there are a few things that she will go all out with. Bipolar people go way over the top, remember? There’s an underground racing scene here in Valkyrie, you know. Drag-racing was invented in southern California, in fact. As a result of this, Remy is one of the few girls in the coveted position of waving the flags at these illegal street races. At those little car get-togethers, she’s one of the girls in miniskirt and tube-top with a beer in her hand, cracking it up with the guys who are trying to pull down her top. Does she hate it? No, absolutely not. It’s miles away from the world she fell from, and that’s all that counts.

( spunky as a Silver )

If there’s one thing Remy Silver is, it’s different. Not different in the way one of those lame scene kids are “different”. In her opinion, they were conformist wanna-bes who liked to think that they weren’t your stereotypical high school girl. These days, it was more uncommon to see the blonde bitch than the freaky kid in ugly clothes with really bad hair. Fucking Myspace whores. See, that was the thing about a Silver girl – she didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. Yeah, I know, it almost sounds like some sort of species. “Silver girl.” But it’s true, isn’t it? The Silver’s were one of the few legendary families around Valkyrie, that much was obvious. But it was the female members of this family that seemed to stand-out the most. Tristan was infamous in her own right; from the party she ended to the gossip blog no one knew she ran. Max was quickly catching up to her, making her own mark on the tainted little city. And why was that? Because of this trait that seemed to be as genetic as the long, lithe bodies in their family. Like always, little Remy had been left out for the most part. Tristan was a bitch, everyone knew that. Max knew how to be a bitch; wasn’t always one, but she was slowly turning into a mini-me of Tristan. Scary, isn’t it? But then you look at a girl like Remy. By nature, Remy Silver is a person you should know not to cross. There’s that little gleam in her eye that is like a tiger in a cage – piss her off, and she’d have no problem ripping the cage’s door down. That’s how she was different. She had no need to be a bitter little thing to the rest of the world, let alone one of the nastiest bitches in the entire city.

Of course, that doesn’t really mean anything, does it? The world is built on people and their flaws. And to say that Remy Silver is flawless is like saying the grass grows greener on the other side. The only reason the grass is greener is because it has stupid little bug servants running around with heating lamps or something. Valkyrie is much like that, no? The people living in the Valks just seemed to be perfect and flawless and without fault because they could pay for someone to make it look like it had been fixed. When, really, nothing was any better than before you had slapped down five grand to the shrink or plastic surgeon. I bet they have shrinks offices right next door to plastic surgery offices. It would make things easier, wouldn’t it? For the longest time, Remy could throw money at something when she found herself becoming “different”. Whatever that means. People say that the Silver’s are rather spirited. Loud-mouthed and cranky, more like it. Since she was a toddler, Remy had been taught to never let people tell her what to do. Why should someone else run her life? It was hers, wasn’t it? Besides, she only got one. Let that someone ruin their own life. Head-strong and loud of mouth, it was a wonder she had never been thrown out of school, to be honest. Remy spent half her life in that crummy little detention room. But, I guess so many students at Valkyrie Academy are outspoken and annoying, the faculty had long grown used to it. We’re all flawed, aren’t we?

Thick of head and fat of mouth – age old description, isn’t it? Stuffy old teachers with beards like to use it to describe their students who have little to no consideration for the rules. Really, you could use it to describe a girl like Remy Silver, as well. She was too pretty to ever be called that by her teachers while at VA. But that don’t mean it ain’t true. Because, really, it was as true as the sky was blue. Born with something of an attitude, Remy had never been taught to suppress the natural spunkiness that came through in her everyday actions. And we’re all mirror images of our parents, aren’t we? God I hope not. See, it was a very genetic thing in the Silver family to get a skinny body and blue eyes. Nearly everyone with that surname had that. They were all bitchy and bitter. They all had reason to be. But, if personality traits can be hereditary, you have to blame her parents for her attitude problem. It wasn’t as though Remy had a bad one; far from it. She simply had no idea how to use her spunkiness in a healthy way. Stubborn to the end, it’s easy to see why. If there is one thing Remy Silver will never do, it is to ask her help. Who does that? Sarcastic instead of bitter, and fiery as opposed to bitchy, it was obvious that Remy Silver had a distorted set of DNA strands there. Oh well. She liked herself.

( sassy&classy…&insecure? )

Everyone is flawed. I get that, I really do. And, over the last several years, Remy had come to accept that fact as well. Growing up in a world of wealth and privilege, everything was much more easily fixed. It was easier to forget everything and concentrate on the important things in life – sex, money and the stocks in the paper every morning. Who needs to worry about self-esteem and body issues when we can pay someone else to do that, right? Yeah, that’s the way she had been raised. You could only imagine the culture-shock the girl during her first few weeks of living in a trashy motel until she found a more permanent locale. But, like we all know, there are problems even among the rich and beautiful. When it came to the life of Remy Silver, it was clichéd and boring. No one ever paid much attention to the pretty little rebel in the corner. She was doted upon like royalty, of course, but once her little sister was born? Things changed. The people she saw most was the butler and nannies, not her parents. They were too busy cooing over stupid Tristan. She was prettier than Remy, skinnier. From age fifteen on, there was never a day to pass without some snide remark from her mother about her appearance, comparing her to Tristan. She was never good enough, was she? Maybe she was too good. Tristan had more of a backbone, Tristan got better grades, Tristan had a better reputation. Perfect little Tristan and rebellious Remy – that’s how it had been until she had left home. But sometimes, damage cannot be undone. Apologizing doesn’t fix everything, you know. And saying you’re sorry to your daughter didn’t cut it when it came to Remy. The little comments everyday, even when she was six or seven, built up to a critical mass. They damaged her self-esteem permanently, really. Nitpicking, bit by bit, can destroy a person, you know.

It destroyed Remy pretty good. The usually happy girl spent numerous nights silently cursing her family. She acted out in ways very unladylike. Apparently it is ladylike for a Silver to rebel through sex and dressing provocatively. Where’s the fun in that? She decided to rebel through not doing her homework and getting two weeks of detention a few times a semester. Her friends lived in the Shaks and drove pimped out muscle cars. They most certainly didn’t like that. I mean, if you were Sarah and Darren Silver, would you? Your formerly “perfect” little girl was socializing with, shudder, those people. Disgusting waste of flesh she is.

Because, you see, there was no other way. At the beginning of high school, Remy had done everything she could to rebel against her family. It was nothing serious, obviously, but it was enough to make her parents regret their decision to keep their oldest child when Sarah was pregnant. She was a problem that just wouldn’t fix, not that they really tried. It was more socially acceptable for a pretty little lady to slut around town than to get detention. It wasn’t difficult, finding a good few one-night stands. Half her school were considered sluts, and nearly everyone knew that. But, she couldn’t do it. Just couldn’t. Not like she hadn’t tried. If there is one thing Remy Silver likes, it’s a good party. Nothing quite like letting loose for a few hours at a time. She’d make-out with random guys at a few parties, sure, but who didn’t? When things were ending and the opportunity to go home with him arose, it seemed like she was being asked to pull out her own tooth. The very thought of doing that was nasty and just…UGH. Sleeping is not something Remy Silver would ever want to do, let alone get known for it. It was something messed-up in her brain, it had to be. She enjoyed nightlife has much as the next pretty Valk-girl, but going completely wild was out of the question. It was embarrassing, you could get expelled or fired or kicked-out ( haha ) if someone found out. Who wants that?

Her complex with control is interesting, isn’t it? Self-respect is something naturally important to Remy, you could say. No real reasoning behind it, just because. Kind of like how some people like the color blue and others don’t – just because. But, then again, maybe destroying her natural set of morals would have made things easier for her. Keep your mouth shut and continue with how she had been. But she didn’t like how things had been, really hadn’t. Once her parents discovered that she preferred to cause actual havoc, as opposed to being a perfect little bitch like her neighbours, things stopped mattering; they didn’t care like they used to. And, sometimes, when people stop caring about you, you forget how to care about you. It was nothing illegal, not even noticeable, really. But, like I said, when things constantly happen on a period of time, they build up to a critical mass. By age sixteen, the fateful final year as a real Silver, there was a big black hole inside of Remy Silver. Her already lowered self-esteem had never been helped as a child, thus it simply got worse as she got older. She had no idea what to do with herself – there was this hole inside of her, no visible future, and no way to fix things.

likes: taking risks,, being on her own,, caramel squares,, baking cookies,, a clean house,, being unpredictable,, spur of the moment activities,, drag-racers,, pimped out spots cars,, beer and bonfires,, pretending she's an orphan,, very late nights,, supernatural television shows,, 'the after show',, taking out her frustration,, jogging,, her iPod,, going to live concerts,, playing video games,, watching sports with the guys,, wearing no make-up,, lemon juice,, slinkies,, lawyer fiction,, Harry Potter,, wearing UGG boots,, Matchbox Twenty,,
dislikes: being bipolar,, stupidity,, people knowing about her past,, being a Silver,, limes,, country music,, living in the shaks,, slutty girls,, peppermint gum,, Carrie Underwood,, bad reality television,, going clubbing all the time,, Starbucks,, high heels,, getting caught,, police officers,, 'putting out',, vampire novels,, Twilight,, detention,, low test scores,, having to think about the future,, chinese food,, sour apples,, being put on a pedestal,, neediness,, sweethearts,, her family,,
flaws: damaged for being so young
lashes out much too easily
always has to be in control
feels empty inside
hates relationships, but wants to feel loved
angry & sarcastic
quite obviously bipolar
always seems to be unwanted
habits: chewing on her tongue, losing her temper, jumping to conclusions, humming to nothing, smiling to herself, not living up to her potential,
strengths:

• very indepedent and self-sufficient.
  
• isn't afraid to do the impossible.
  
• tough.
  
• fairly easily to get along with if she likes you.
  
• not like the rest of her 'family'.
  
• in complete control of herself.
  

weaknesses:

• a good party.
  
• not exactly a model student.
  
• unpredictable and overly reckless.
  
• self-destructive.
  
• very 'hot and cold', hard to get to know.
  
• someone with a rather winning smile.
  

when the ocean met the sky ,[/b][/size][/color]
character history ,

originated from: valkyrie, california.
parents: Darren Silver, fifty-three. father. - estranged.
Sarah Silver, forty-four. mother. - estranged.
siblings: Tristan Silver, seventeen. sister.
Max Silver, seventeen. cousin.
Landon Silver, thirteen. brother. - estranged.
other: Elijah Silver, twenty two. cousin.
living situation: apartment in the shaks, on her own.
history: I think we have all come to know who the Silver’s are, yes? Well, I sincerely hope so. Because they are one of my favourite families of mine now, and I don’t think I’ll be stopping with them anytime soon, stupid as that sounds. It’s just the way things are going for me at the moment. So, bite me. You know that phrase? It’s so old, overdone, that it’s really no longer an insult. I remember when I was six or seven, and I cried because some older kid told me that. Bastard. But you have to admit, it has some sort of spunk to it. Is that not what every person with the surname of Silver has? In some way or another, everyone in that damn family is bitchy, they’re fierce and confident, a little bit mean with a little bit of sweet. Even Max, one of the only “good girls” of the Silver family, has a bit of that seeping into her personality. Has to say something about that bloodline. I mean, they’re one of Valkyrie’s oldest families. Shouldn’t the good members of this family realize what was happening here? I suppose not. Too many facelifts seems to lower your intelligence level, seeing as many of the Valk-residing mothers aren’t exactly the brightest bulb in the drawer. Sometimes, I’m surprised that they can walk and talk at the same time. Practice makes perfect, I guess.

The Silvers are known for three things: bitchiness, blue eyes, and bitterness. If you strip down the character of each and every member of that family, you’ll find that. Some are more, ahem, pronounced than others, but they are definitely all there. However, they are still outstanding members to society. Have you seen the amount of charity events they hold at their estate? Sarah and Darren Silver really have to be some of the most giving people I’ve ever known. They’re younger generations, on the other hand, perhaps not so much. Elijah Silver is a cousin. He does what he wants, when he wants – but he has a good heart. Max Silver is another newcomer, distantly related to everyone through Tristan. She’s sweet and awkward, but there’s definitely a little bit of nastiness buried in there somewhere. I couldn’t imagine being not bitter with the past few months she’s had. And then you have Tristan Silver. She’s probably the one you know the most about. She’s something of a legend here in Valkyrie, with pulling the plug on one of the largest parties of the year under her belt, I wouldn’t see why people would still like her. She’s the one who is the most pronounced about her natural trait. Never before have I seen someone so angry and bitter, but so bitchy. She’s good at fooling everyone, but we all know it’s still there. If you flip through the photo albums sitting in the office of the Silver estate, you’ll see many familiar faces. The majority are of Tristan and her parents during her childhood, with a few photographic memories of their yearly vacation to Australia thrown in there. Seems like she’s closest to Elijah, judging by these photographs. There are even a few of Max and her older brother, Matt, when they were growing up. The few current ones of the surfer are building its own pages in there, don’t you worry. But have you ever noticed something when you walk in there? A missing piece of the puzzle, you could say. Something so obvious, yet so unnoticed, it takes someone of real intelligence to notice. Sort of the feeling one gets when they are in the home of someone who lived there once, a long time ago.

Each member of the Silver family comes with their own unique story. There’s murder, running from the military, arrest records, ruined reputations…whatever you can think of, it’s happened. The Silvers are a large, influential family in their own respected communities. Only now is Valkyrie seeing the more scarred members. I guess they couldn’t hide these embarrassments forever. However, I think we’re all under the impression that each person with the surname of Silver who happened to originate directly from Valkyrie is pearly white. Tristan is something else, but she grew up sweet and innocent. Her little brother, Landon, is shy and quiet, I bet he’s bullied at school. Darren and Sarah are happily married, albeit they have their very obvious problems. However, there is one problem no one can ever run from. It’s not a distant relative they can pretend not to be related too. It’s not even someone they can pay to go away. No one can get rid of their immediate family.

Everyone knows of Darren and Sarah Silver, with their two children Tristan and Landon. She’s the oldest, sweet but malicious. He’s the youngest, shy and unassuming. It’s a good match. Two wealthy parents, two and a half children, nice house, good careers...the California version of the classic American Dream, isn’t it? But everything here is trial-and-error. We have an error here, ladies and gentlemen. Darren and Sarah pretend she doesn’t exist. Tristan hasn’t spoken to her in nearly four years. Landon probably doesn’t even remember her, he was only nine when she went away. See, Darren and Sarah have lived here a long time. However, they spend every single summer in Australia visiting family. About two and a half years before Tristan was born, Sarah was pregnant. She and Darren had been trying for children for years before she finally conceived in November of that year. It was a good pregnancy, warm and glowing. Everyone thought she lost the baby that June, just before they cancelled their vacation time in Australia that year. But they went early that July. Everyone simply thought she had given birth to the baby early. A nanny was watching her, probably, since they went off to Sydney as usual. They returned that September to a smiling baby girl. They named her Remy Blythe. They showed her off to Valkyrie like a prized possession, they’re happy little girl.

Time passed and both Tristan and Landon were then born. Life was as perfect as it ever could be. Their bank accounts were still fat, they had three beautiful children, and they simply couldn’t be happier. Good times, isn’t it? But there is the bloodline of nastiness for the Silver children. They all had blue eyes, yes, and had a good amount of attitude that was never a problem. But nothing was out of control until sixteen long years after Remy was born. This was when both Tristan and Landon were young, wide-eyed and innocent as kittens. There had always been something odd about their oldest daughter, everyone could see that. She openly spoke out when they had their ridiculous charity events. She never made curfew, and was in detention at least twice a week. I’m surprised they didn’t kick her out of school. She was beautiful, yes, with the sweetest face you could possibly imagine. But that had been okay growing up. She had never been awkward like Tristan had. She grew into her looks and was always popular at school. She was always the favourite child, anyone could see that. However, when high school began, things started to change. She was no longer an angel of a child. At least Tristan knows how to hide her bad habits. Remy had no problem in showing her parents the trouble she was causing. Her friends lived down in the poor side of town, where they would race their badly restored cars and drink beer by the bonfire at three in the morning. She didn’t like wearing designer clothing like the other Silver girls did. She didn’t even like to pretend to be happy. Remy Silver was not a happy camper, and everyone knew that.

All it took was one little fight for everything to go up in flames. She had been denying her parents rules for years; so much that everyone was used to it. But one time too many was all it really took to send Darren Silver over the edge. She had always been daddy’s little girl, after all. He walked in on her getting dirty with the much older son of one of his most important clients. Apart from being humiliated, it was bad. Darren was sleeping with the mother, so he got dibs on that family first. It had happened before, everyone knew it had. But he had a slight problem with alcohol, as well as anger. No one liked to see him when he was in a bad mood; they never heard the end of it. She definitely didn’t. Dinner was a chilly affair that night, even though no one knew what actually happened apart from Remy and Darren. It was during the low-fat dessert when things got out of control. He told her she was a waste of space, a disgrace to the family name. She said that the family name was utter bullshit, that she’d rather be living on the streets. I won’t go into detail. You’ve had those one-in-a-lifetime fights with someone before. Who wants to know about them if they don’t have to? A few dishes were broken, and she was kicked out that very evening. A long time coming, he said. She had been an embarrassment for far too long, she was on her own. Her bank accounts were frozen, her trust fund drained and her Ferrari was sent to the junkyard for scrap metal. She was only sixteen.

It’s been two and a half years since that day. Remy Silver is almost nineteen years of age, and yes, she is still in Valkyrie. But barely. Ever hear the term “dropped off the map”? Most of the time, it’s a simple expression – no one gives much thought to it. However, when you’re sixteen years of age, not even half-way through your junior year of high school, it can become very literal. You’ve heard those stories of the young kids kicked out of home for their reckless behaviour. More often than not, they end up pregnant twice by age eighteen and addicted to crack-cocaine. In many ways, Remy was on that road. She had no home, no where to go, no money. Best way would be to go into prostitution and work in a laundry facility until the day she died. Sounds like a lot of fun. However, a Silver is a little bit different than the average citizen, even those in Valkyrie, California. However, she did drop off the face of the Earth. In December of her junior year at Valkyrie Academy, she mysteriously disappeared. Once in awhile, someone would spot her down in the Shaks, wearing a denim miniskirt and black tube-top like the rest of the girls who socialized in the car scene of Valkyrie. Maybe you would see her walking to the convenience store early in the morning, looking rather like a bleeding dog about to bite. But you never really saw her anymore.

She finished high school online, worked full-time and skanked out around the drag-racing picture, all by herself. Who said she wasn’t someone to be proud of? Now, in the middle months of 2007, Remy is attending the community college on the outskirts of Valkyrie. She is a freshman studying her Bachelor of the Arts – which is educational jabber for she has no idea what the fuck she is going to do with the rest of her life. People can deny it all she wants, she is still a Silver. She fits in with her family, they just don’t want her. They’ve made that clear. She hasn’t spoken to them once since the day she was kicked out. Sometimes, she’ll see her mother or father at La Fleur Violette with someone so obviously no their spouse, but she pretends like she doesn’t know them. They act like she doesn’t exist. It’s a system, you see. A system like a slow-bleeding wound. It’s alright for awhile, but sooner or later, everything is going to gush out the truth – nothing is okay.

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why don't you waste the afterlife ,[/b][/size][/color]
for admins ,

read the rules: i still say we have a code word. (;
name one you like: the one concerning how epic we are.
roleplay example: i invented long roleplay posts.

credit: format by lainey, lyrics by modest mouse

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[Shay Anderson]

yeah, i know. I think I've been complaining about not finishing this app for weeks now. Well, can you blame me? it's my first app since october. XD woo! it's really really messy and REALLY FUCKING RANTY. I get that. Deal with it. I like her.<3

accepted !