Character sheets:
Name: Rowen Anne Moore
Age: 18 - Senior Year
Sex: Female
Appearance:
Rowen is skinny, often due to drug use and unhealthy nutrition. She's average height and has a narrow chest, with curvy, c-cup breasts, a slender stomach, and round hips with shapely, thick legs. She has cigarette burn scars on both her forearms, from child hood. In the crease of her left elbow, old track marks from drug use can be seen if one looks closely enough. Many, many other random scars with stories line her body, just from the rough, reckless life style she leads. She has thin, arched eyebrows. A cute, up turned nose. Prominent, dramatically carved cheek bones, and a sharp jawline. She has very big, almond shaped, pale green eyes that make the skin under them appear to have a slight bag because of their size protruding under the skin. Her eyes are often predatory, incredibly alluring. Her lips are pillowy, full, and plump all the way around, usually chapped. Naturally brunette hair, bleached blonde.
Relationship status: Single
Personality: Rowen is extremely obstreperous(noisy and difficult to control), rebellious, cocky, and charismatic. She is wild, reckless, impulsive, magnetic, and can be violent. She speaks without a filter, is brutally honest, and isn't subtle about anything. Rowen is a huge flirt, and very sensual. She enjoys playing and teasing, and making people uncomfortable. She has proven over and over she has no sense of morality, no impulse control, and no conscience, and while she is mostly just mean-spirited and not outright harmful, one easily gets the sense that harming someone wouldn’t bother her at all. She is brazen and unbashful, very bold. Rowen openly lives the way she wants to, right or wrong.
Nicknames: Ro/Rowe - Ruin by her brother
Friends: Not a whole lot
Enemies: Authority
Hobbies: Partying, causing casual chaos for kicks
Fears: What is there to fear but fear itself? Or some shit.
Likes: Elderly people, big burly bikers, rum, cigarettes, and rock music
Dislikes: Being told what to do, party poopers
Quick Backstory: Rowen and her older brother's parents were meth addicts, abusive, and neglectful. They were homeless a lot, or moving from trailer to trailer, motel to motel. When Rowen was a freshman, she was exchanged by her father to his friends for drug money. After a couple times, Social Services caught wind and took the Moore kids into the foster system. Rowen is currently with her third foster family.
Name: Rowen Anne Moore
Age: 18 - Senior Year
Sex: Female
Appearance:
Rowen is skinny, often due to drug use and unhealthy nutrition. She's average height and has a narrow chest, with curvy, c-cup breasts, a slender stomach, and round hips with shapely, thick legs. She has cigarette burn scars on both her forearms, from child hood. In the crease of her left elbow, old track marks from drug use can be seen if one looks closely enough. Many, many other random scars with stories line her body, just from the rough, reckless life style she leads. She has thin, arched eyebrows. A cute, up turned nose. Prominent, dramatically carved cheek bones, and a sharp jawline. She has very big, almond shaped, pale green eyes that make the skin under them appear to have a slight bag because of their size protruding under the skin. Her eyes are often predatory, incredibly alluring. Her lips are pillowy, full, and plump all the way around, usually chapped. Naturally brunette hair, bleached blonde.
Relationship status: Single
Personality: Rowen is extremely obstreperous(noisy and difficult to control), rebellious, cocky, and charismatic. She is wild, reckless, impulsive, magnetic, and can be violent. She speaks without a filter, is brutally honest, and isn't subtle about anything. Rowen is a huge flirt, and very sensual. She enjoys playing and teasing, and making people uncomfortable. She has proven over and over she has no sense of morality, no impulse control, and no conscience, and while she is mostly just mean-spirited and not outright harmful, one easily gets the sense that harming someone wouldn’t bother her at all. She is brazen and unbashful, very bold. Rowen openly lives the way she wants to, right or wrong.
Nicknames: Ro/Rowe - Ruin by her brother
Friends: Not a whole lot
Enemies: Authority
Hobbies: Partying, causing casual chaos for kicks
Fears: What is there to fear but fear itself? Or some shit.
Likes: Elderly people, big burly bikers, rum, cigarettes, and rock music
Dislikes: Being told what to do, party poopers
Quick Backstory: Rowen and her older brother's parents were meth addicts, abusive, and neglectful. They were homeless a lot, or moving from trailer to trailer, motel to motel. When Rowen was a freshman, she was exchanged by her father to his friends for drug money. After a couple times, Social Services caught wind and took the Moore kids into the foster system. Rowen is currently with her third foster family.
((Approved, introduce her anyway you like.))
(Thanks! Glad to be aboard!)
Rowen woke up groggily, hair a mess and eyes a little reddened from the previous night of partying. Her pillowy, thick lips were chapped, her throat dry, and her mouth awfully sticky. Groaning, she thought about the previous night, but couldn't remember too much from it. She rolled out of bed, showered leisurely, then dressed in a plain black hoodie pulled over her bare chest and a pair of blue jeans with a fraying tear in the right knee. While combing her fingers through her damp, straight hair, she stuffed her socked feet into a pair of large, dirty looking, worker boots. Who's boots were these? She paid little thought to the mystery, grabbing her half empty box of cigarettes off her bedside table and heading for the front door.
On her stroll towards the school, she lit up a good morning smoke, puffing on it idly as she walked, then stopped quickly into a 7-11, exiting with another pack of smokes and a Redbull in hand- as per the morning routine. After another 15 minutes of no-rushing to get to the campus, she was there. She squished the butt of her cigarette out on the sole of whoever's work boot she was wearing, then stalked into the school.
First class was Economics, Rowen walked in right after Lupus, entering as the door was closing from his sudden burst through it. She eyed an irritated looking instructor, not bothering to conceal her amused smirk on her plump lips. "Yeah, ditto." The striking young woman said, using Lupus' excuse too as she slunk towards an empty desk, her heavy boots clunking on the tile floors all the way. She plopped down like a sack of potatoes in a desk, second row from the very back. The girl didn't appear to have any school supplies with her. No backpack, no binders or notebooks, but a black Sharpie was removed from her hoodie pocket and held in her right hand after a few minutes.
Rowen tucked her bleached hair behind her ears, her magnetic eyes not on the teacher, but instead scanning the sea of student's faces, while taking chugs from her Redbull.
Rowen woke up groggily, hair a mess and eyes a little reddened from the previous night of partying. Her pillowy, thick lips were chapped, her throat dry, and her mouth awfully sticky. Groaning, she thought about the previous night, but couldn't remember too much from it. She rolled out of bed, showered leisurely, then dressed in a plain black hoodie pulled over her bare chest and a pair of blue jeans with a fraying tear in the right knee. While combing her fingers through her damp, straight hair, she stuffed her socked feet into a pair of large, dirty looking, worker boots. Who's boots were these? She paid little thought to the mystery, grabbing her half empty box of cigarettes off her bedside table and heading for the front door.
On her stroll towards the school, she lit up a good morning smoke, puffing on it idly as she walked, then stopped quickly into a 7-11, exiting with another pack of smokes and a Redbull in hand- as per the morning routine. After another 15 minutes of no-rushing to get to the campus, she was there. She squished the butt of her cigarette out on the sole of whoever's work boot she was wearing, then stalked into the school.
First class was Economics, Rowen walked in right after Lupus, entering as the door was closing from his sudden burst through it. She eyed an irritated looking instructor, not bothering to conceal her amused smirk on her plump lips. "Yeah, ditto." The striking young woman said, using Lupus' excuse too as she slunk towards an empty desk, her heavy boots clunking on the tile floors all the way. She plopped down like a sack of potatoes in a desk, second row from the very back. The girl didn't appear to have any school supplies with her. No backpack, no binders or notebooks, but a black Sharpie was removed from her hoodie pocket and held in her right hand after a few minutes.
Rowen tucked her bleached hair behind her ears, her magnetic eyes not on the teacher, but instead scanning the sea of student's faces, while taking chugs from her Redbull.
((Happy to have ya! 
))
Brooke and Markus were seated just to her side, with Markus being closer. Brooke was looking forward towards the teacher, but her eyes looked almost glazed over, deep in thought. Markus glanced at Rowen, but said nothing.
Brooke was bouncing her leg up and down slightly under the desk, making a soft noise that people in close proximity could hear, but likely no one else.
((Did you all want to skip to the break in between or lunch?))
))Brooke and Markus were seated just to her side, with Markus being closer. Brooke was looking forward towards the teacher, but her eyes looked almost glazed over, deep in thought. Markus glanced at Rowen, but said nothing.
Brooke was bouncing her leg up and down slightly under the desk, making a soft noise that people in close proximity could hear, but likely no one else.
((Did you all want to skip to the break in between or lunch?))
((I'm thinking lunch.))
((OK, me too.))
((I’m good with skipping to lunch.))
(I'm down for lunch time tooo.)
(oof im guuud 4 lunch 2)
((Aight, let's do dis.))
Everyone was getting ready for lunch, or maybe already there, determined to get servings first. There were a few empty tables, with some almost empty one's that had two or maybe one person sitting at it alone.
Everyone was getting ready for lunch, or maybe already there, determined to get servings first. There were a few empty tables, with some almost empty one's that had two or maybe one person sitting at it alone.
Violet packed her notebook and pen into her backpack before standing and leaving class. She walked down the hall until finding the cafeteria.
She waited in line, and grabbed some small things for lunch, just a sandwich and an apple. She left the line and looked around the cafeteria for a moment. She was hoping for an empty table, but unfortunately they were all taken.
She sighed and left the cafeteria, deciding to find somewhere outside to eat. She walked through the front doors of the school and walked around the back of it. She kept walking until she found a nice shaded spot under a tree in the grass, and sat down.
She waited in line, and grabbed some small things for lunch, just a sandwich and an apple. She left the line and looked around the cafeteria for a moment. She was hoping for an empty table, but unfortunately they were all taken.
She sighed and left the cafeteria, deciding to find somewhere outside to eat. She walked through the front doors of the school and walked around the back of it. She kept walking until she found a nice shaded spot under a tree in the grass, and sat down.
I sigh as I pack my things and head to lunch. I put my hood up and carry my bag as I enter the room. I don't see anyone I know, except a few people from classes. Not even an internet friend. I go over to a bit smaller, empty table since someone moved. I pull out my smallish laptop, like a Chromebook, and set it on the table. I grab a small bag of chips from my backpack and snack on them as I put on my earbuds. I listen to music as I edit photography photos and animated drawings of mine.
After Economics, Rowen made her way through the crowded halls by elbowing and shoving, until she made it to the cafeteria. It was similiar to a zoo inside, the rambunctious adolescents compared to wild creatures, shouting over one another and horsing around at their tables.
Rowen walked over to the food line, big boots clunking noisily. While waiting among a line of students, Rowen turned a devious grin to the older women working behind the counter. "Hey Beatrice," Rowen purred. "You are lookin' mighty fine today ma. Could I just get a heaping serving of you?" She displayed her winning, most charming, shit-eating grin. The woman in question looked to be in her late 40's, dark red curls stuffed up into a hairnet, a huge mole below her thin, chapped lips. She looked amused at Rowens daily antics, but also drained of energy.
While Beatrice handed Rowen over a sandwich and a plastic cup of applesauce, she responded, "Take your lunch and keep it movin', Jailbait." Which earned another large, toothy grin from Rowen as she gave a salute to Beatrice and stalked off into the chaotic cafeteria. She chose a table near the set of double doors that lead out into the campus yard, where students were allowed to eat their lunches outside. Elbowing herself into a spot at the table, she cast a look at all the faces there, trying to pick out anyone cool or interesting just by their appearance.
This was Rowen's fourth day at this school, and the only 'friend' she'd made was the lunch lady. Rowen felt like she was always being 'the new girl', with how much she moved from foster family to foster family, school to school. Sometimes she lied and said she was an army brat, just for kicks- plus people seemed to respond to that better than her being a trouble child that foster families couldnt put up with for more than five months. Rowen didnt mind always being the new girl, she liked meeting new people all the time, she was a rather social gal, it was harder getting her to shut up than to reach out and meet people.
Rowen walked over to the food line, big boots clunking noisily. While waiting among a line of students, Rowen turned a devious grin to the older women working behind the counter. "Hey Beatrice," Rowen purred. "You are lookin' mighty fine today ma. Could I just get a heaping serving of you?" She displayed her winning, most charming, shit-eating grin. The woman in question looked to be in her late 40's, dark red curls stuffed up into a hairnet, a huge mole below her thin, chapped lips. She looked amused at Rowens daily antics, but also drained of energy.
While Beatrice handed Rowen over a sandwich and a plastic cup of applesauce, she responded, "Take your lunch and keep it movin', Jailbait." Which earned another large, toothy grin from Rowen as she gave a salute to Beatrice and stalked off into the chaotic cafeteria. She chose a table near the set of double doors that lead out into the campus yard, where students were allowed to eat their lunches outside. Elbowing herself into a spot at the table, she cast a look at all the faces there, trying to pick out anyone cool or interesting just by their appearance.
This was Rowen's fourth day at this school, and the only 'friend' she'd made was the lunch lady. Rowen felt like she was always being 'the new girl', with how much she moved from foster family to foster family, school to school. Sometimes she lied and said she was an army brat, just for kicks- plus people seemed to respond to that better than her being a trouble child that foster families couldnt put up with for more than five months. Rowen didnt mind always being the new girl, she liked meeting new people all the time, she was a rather social gal, it was harder getting her to shut up than to reach out and meet people.
Holly was at the table, typing away on a laptop while eating her food. She looked completely absorbed in her screen and didn't notice Rowen sitting down, the boy next to her did, though. Devin, who looked about 14, grinned at Rowen in a way he thought looked charming, but was more goofy than anything.
"Hey there," He greeted the girl. "Devin's the name, Devin Springs." Lola, a girl next to him, rolled her eyes at Devin's greeting, but said nothing about it.
"Hey there," He greeted the girl. "Devin's the name, Devin Springs." Lola, a girl next to him, rolled her eyes at Devin's greeting, but said nothing about it.
Violet leaned against the tree, putting her headphones in before taking a bite of the apple she had gotten from the cafeteria.
The breeze was flowing gently through her dyed black hair, and she played with her lip piercing as she looked around the school yard. There were some students sitting outside eating, but not a lot. She shrugged to herself and reached over to her backpack, taking out the copy of Macbeth that she had been reading earlier in class.
The breeze was flowing gently through her dyed black hair, and she played with her lip piercing as she looked around the school yard. There were some students sitting outside eating, but not a lot. She shrugged to herself and reached over to her backpack, taking out the copy of Macbeth that she had been reading earlier in class.
I look over at other tables as I finish my food and throw the bag away. I sit back down and continue animating and editing. I take out my hood and groan, tying my hair up in a messy bun, rubbing my tired eyes. I'm glad I moved here on my own, saving since I was 10. I may not belong here but it's better then being with shitheads and druggies.
Walter walks out, with a sandwich in his mouth. He scanned the place for fresh faces, noticing a few.
He walked on over towards the girl with blue hair, it made her more noticeable. He removed the sandwich from his mouth before walking over, so he could speak.
"Hey." He said, with a half smile on his face. "I'm Walter, Walter Foxx."
He walked on over towards the girl with blue hair, it made her more noticeable. He removed the sandwich from his mouth before walking over, so he could speak.
"Hey." He said, with a half smile on his face. "I'm Walter, Walter Foxx."
I look up at Walter and take out my earbuds. I cross my arms and rest them on table, "I'm Jesse.. Berson." I smile a little bit before pausing my video/music.
"You're new here, right?" He asks, although he's already pretty certain she is.
"I've been here for awhile," he continued even though he hadn't gotten an answer, "and I'm pretty popular in these parts." He said it with a hint of smugness.
"I've been here for awhile," he continued even though he hadn't gotten an answer, "and I'm pretty popular in these parts." He said it with a hint of smugness.
"Yeah... just moved in." I nod a bit as I turn to face Walter this time. "Cool... it seems like a nice place." I smile and stand up. I pat your shoulder, "Good for you."
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