Posts by catalyst

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    ❝ clementine beaulieu ❞ (small warning before this role-play begins, this is full of mature themes and there will be mentions of some triggering topics. apologizes for not giving a forewarning in the sign-up thread, therefore it is understandable if these topics might make you uncomfortable. if they do so, please pm me.)

    the laughs echoed through her ears in thrumming beats. her ragged blonde hair fell in untidy ringlets down her shoulders, the ends split from years of being unkept. her breathing was uneven and her dark, empty eyes flickered around the room without rest, pinpointing random spots on the cement wall as if she could shatter it. her frail, skinny arms held her legs to her chest, nails digging into her pale skin hard enough to draw a few pinpricks of crimson blood. clementine slammed her eyelids closed, clenching them so tightly together that she whined at the pressure put on her eyes. loneliness. abandonment. loss. these words echoed in her head, joining the laughter in a chaotic symphony that pounded relentlessly against the sides of her skull until finally, a scream. the blood curdling scream echoed from her chapped lips, causing her to slam her own hands over her ears with a flinch. people came rushing toward her, yanking her up roughly and slammed her hardly nurtured body between theirs as they pulled her away with their rough, calloused hands. all she wanted was for the voices to stop, for someone to be there to tell her she would be okay and that they wouldn't be able to crawl out of her mind and get her. unfortunately, clementine didn't get that, instead being thrown into a small room, completely dark, and water being pelted down on her porcelain skin until she was practically begging for it to stop. the doctors did relent eventually, squating beside her and whispering her insanities in her ear as if they were dirty, as if they made her less than them. she took this with a fit of silence, though not believing their lies for a moment. the white coated men led her into a room filled with several other people, shoving her shivering body on the floor. clem curled in on herself, providing as much warmth as she could to her small body as her eyes scanned over the group of people with hesitation, keeping her lips sealed but her eyes wide open.


    ooc; you may have your character join in however you like, whether they're already in this room or they're taken from somewhere else, but they all meet here.

    ❝ clementine beaulieu ❞ her ragged breathing eventually subsided, when she was able to hear her own blood pounding in her ears again and her heart slamming against her chest. clem tensed, shooting up from the crouching position she held on the floor and stumbled toward the barred door. no words escaped her lips, but her eyes daggered toward every employee that walked past. the dark pupils glared directly at the boy as he sighed, not wanting the slight interruption of his noise to bother her from her brooding. this, of course, was not a very plausible reason, however, she favored it anyway. her blonde head snapped back to face the hallway, a smirk covering her lips as a thought played in her head. an innocent look took over her face, her eyebrows crunches together and her lips pouted out in a soft way. “sir,” she called to the employee, allowing her voice to take on a shaky role, though her body shaking was not an act, “could i trouble you for..” her voice trailed off as she reached through the bar, feeling his pockets for anything of value to get out of this room. the man grinned evilly at her, reaching forward to run a grubby hand along her pale cheek. she wrapped her fingers around a pen from his pocket, pulling it through quickly and slipping it behind her. she smiled at him, the action disgusting her as she feigned confusion. “nevermind, i forgot what i was gonna say.” she giggled, biting her lip and pulling away from him with a shiver. the voices in her head grew loud again as the man walked away, but she fought to keep them down, looking at the others in the room. she took her corner spot again, crossing her legs and beginning to take apart the pen to salvage pieces that may be of value to sneak out of the dark room.


    ❝ lost in thought ❞ sorry about the delay! i’ll finish him tomorrow. :)


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    ❝ isobel beaulieu - prep - eighteen❞ isobel sat on the edge of the water, sunglasses hanging daintly off her nose as she stared out at the dark water. she wrinkled her nose, huffing and throwing a lock of red hair over her shoulder. her toes wiggles into the sand, goosebumps spreading over her legs at the stinging of the cold water lapping at her ankles. she didn’t dare go any further, considering she couldn’t swim, it wouldn’t have been the smartest decision to make. her dark eyes watched the group make their way up the cliffs with a small roll of her chocolate irises. “try not to drown once you hit the water!” she called out, small laces of sarcasm slipping in to her words. this wasn’t really her crowd of people, she preferred the safe seclusion of meaningless drama associated with the prep clique. although, she was careful never to put herself in the middle of any of it. in the end, none of these high school experiences would really matter, so here she was, seated at the edge of a lake, watching as her fellow students jumped into the water with a sense of freedom.



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    NAME. isobel l. beaulieu

    AGE / DATE OF BIRTH. twenty-four years of age, november 27th 1994

    GENDER / SEX. cisgender female

    PARENTS.

    ruby c. beaulieu//mother//deceased

    christopher w. beaulieu//father//alive

    — siblings:

    n/a

    — other family:

    tatum w. carver//daughter//alive









    PERSONALITY.

    — positive traits: diligent, intelligent, outgoing, caring, family-oriented, protective, witty, optimistic, loyal

    — neutral traits: stubborn, hesitant, outright, testy, perceptive

    — negative traits: hot-headed, morally imbalanced, rebellious, overly-ambitious

    MBTI TYPE. infj

    HOUSE. ravenclaw

    FACTION. erudite

    NATURAL ALIGNMENT. chaotic good









    AESTHETIC.

    isobel stands at a imposing height of five foot five, although her physique is not skin and bone. her slightly toned body is framed to her shoulders by slightly tinged auburn hair, leading up to her deep chocolate eyes. her skin is a light olive, a slight accent relating to her southern raised childhood. under her left eyebrow, she has a scar from a car crash she was in when she was seven. her smile is sweet and her eyes are always alight with compassion, unless she’s saddened by something. she wears little to no makeup, revealing the freckles dotting her nose and cheeks.









    MISC. penned by catalyst


    —i’ll add the pictures when i get home but we can start plotting now if you want!