Post by ``nala winston on Apr 19, 2009 15:47:37 GMT -5
NALA! STOLE YOUR HEART;
They call me Lucky and I've shot for the moon seventeen times.
You know you all love me and you can contact me via PM.
Ktxbi.
They call me Lucky and I've shot for the moon seventeen times.
You know you all love me and you can contact me via PM.
Ktxbi.
» There Goes my Hero;
THe birth certificate reads Alana Tess Winston
But Everyone Calls Me Nala, Nalls, Lala
Ive Been Breaking Hearts for fourteen years
The say I Am unemployed, but looking
Ive Been Told I Look Like Annasophia Robb
» Rock and Roll, Baby.;
I am so tall 4’10”
And I Weigh 85lbs
Ive Bee Ninked And Pierced On the inside of her left wrist is a small tattoo of the POW/MIA emblem, no larger than a nickel and in black ink. Her ears are pierced with a single whole in each lobe.
They always say I look like Nala got most of her physical appearance from her mother. Like her, the girl has a petit lean build, small chest, oval face, blonde hair, and small feet. She is nearly four feet ten inches tall and only about eighty five lbs. Her feet are only a size four, which annoys her to no end. She is relatively flat in the chest and hip department, but certain outfits play up her small curves. Her legs are slightly too long for her frame, and her torso slightly short. She does not seem disproportionate, but hates the difference herself.
Her hair is a platinum blonde that is naturally mostly straight, but with some prodding can be waved, or teased into curls. It is cut long, a little longer than shoulder length, and frames her small face. She generally lets it exist however it is when she wakes up, but it is not difficult to get it in a better state. Her eyes, handed down from her father, are a bright crystalline green-blue. The sparkle with her moods, and can show anyone who chooses her soul. Her nose is, to her thinking, a bit too bulbous at the tip, but overall is straight and unbroken. Her cheeks are rosy, and blush easily, while her lips are thin and a few shades redder than her skin. She has dark thin eyebrows ands long lashes, framing her breath-taking eyes. All of this leads to a rather expressive face.
She dresses conservatively, subtly showing off her body without showing any skin. She has a relatively small town, rural feeling, though she grew up on a military base. Even with her history, she hardly wears patriotic clothing, and with the exception of a baggy sweat-shirt, and a single West Point t, has nothing bearing the army logo. She likes plaids and knits, skirts and long sleeved tops which cover her hands. She also likes flats and old sneakers, not a fan of high-heeled shoes. She is rather down to earth, and loves to be free to move around, and explore.
She wears a ragged piece of braided yellow string laced with a few silver beads around her right ring finger, and a pink plastic bracelet on her right wrist. The ring is home-made, sewn and braided when she was seven, by childish hands. The bracelet is commercial, and much newer. Stamped into it are the words "Share Beauty. Spread Hope." She also has an affinity for pearls, and has a few simple strands and studs.
This Is What Makes Me Stand Out Her eyes.
» Chances Taken, Hope Embraced;
I Adore music, thunder storms , playing the guitar, undeveloped spaces, good personality, interesting smiles, smiling, singing, writing, kisses, strawberries, chocolate, hugs, church, silence
I Abhor most popular music, rap music specifically, rudeness, being used, people physically fighting, seeing , people hurt, hurting others, lying, keeping her own secrets, getting drunk, drugs, cheaters, people who are overly thingy, players , war, republicans
I Rock Sunny, Fiery, Adventurous, Idealistic, Compassionate
I Suck Guarded, Disillusioned, Opinionated, Old-Fashioned, Dogged
I Do She is constantly running her fingers over her tattoo, When she is nervous she will fiddle with her hair, knotting it, She often allows her emotions to get the better of her, She is nearly always late to appointments, as she stops to look at some random object only she sees as beautiful, She bites her nails, She hasn’t cried since her mother died, she believes she is no longer capable of doing it
I Want To be remembered. Though this may sound silly to the average person, to Nala it isn’t. She wants to be remembered for making something better, to impact someone’s life in a manner that they will never forget her. She wants to be loved so hard it hurts, so hard no matter how it ends it will be impossible to forget.
I Fear Most likely a terrorist attack. Having grown up on a military base this is justified as the inhabitants had drills for that very eventuality nearly ever day. Irrationally speaking, she dreams of dead soldiers often, seeing them as sort of zombies. This stems from her difficulty in accepting Rusty’s death, and her fear for him.
I Shut up How much she wants to be “That girl”. How much her past hurt her. That she will easily give up her values to help someone she cares for. Her hopes and dreams. What she want. The fact that she’s going to spend her entire life waiting for her brother to come home, even though she knows he’s dead.
I am Nala loves life, and takes joy in small things. She can make an adventure out of any task, and her happiness is contagious. As an optimist she sees the best in people, believes people are inherently good, loves lost causes, never give up on people, and refuses to burn bridges. She fights hard for what she believes, and pursues her endeavors with a fire which cannot be described. She would do almost anything for the people who are in her trust, and often for those who aren't. She is often self-sacrificing.
Nala is never one to back down from a challenge, or to be afraid to try something new. She loves going places no one has gone before, and seeing things which have not been seen. Telling her she can’t do something is reason enough for her to do it. A girl behind her time she has strong morals and hates all forms of injustice; those between genders, social classes, religions, and cliques. She believes heavily in the Bible, and is Patriotic to a tee, though she opposes the war down pat. She has the gift of knowing what to say in awkward situation and in situations where the words used carry more weight than they ought to. She can talk people up or down, depending on the situation. She gives wonderful advice but has trouble taking her own. She loves broken things, believing their charm and beauty is only intensified by their inadequacies.
Though Nala seems to trust easily, it takes a lot to truly get into her heart. She often makes surface relationships and has trouble moving deeper. With the presumed death of her brother in Iraq the youngster has become less idealistic, and has realized that the world is a difficult place. She is slightly jaded, but not terribly. It is more that she realized something she set quite a bit of store by wasn’t what she believed it to be. She is strict with her views, and does not like to be disagreed with. When she gets on her soap-box she can go one for hours. She hates when her opinions are ignored, or belittled, but this will not stop her from doing just that to other’s opinions.
Nala’s mother raised her with old fashioned values. She is heavy into Christianity, and into morality. These ideas do not fit well into today’s world, and she is still trying to reconcile being a Christian and a Teenager. Once she begins a project, she will never put it down. She cannot leave things unfinished, or finished in a way she is not proud of. If she gets an idea in her head, or a plan, she will execute it no matter then consequences or those against it. If she wants an answer to a question or request she will bother the individual involved until there is progress. This can lead her to be annoying and pesky.
» I Know I Won't Be Home At All;
I Came From Father | Abel Brand, Fourty Five, Army Colonel (Deceased)
Mother | Bethany Rose Winston, Forty Three, Clerical Work (Deceased)
I Share My Dna With Brother | Russel Elijah Winston, Twenty Four, Private First Class (Presumed dead)
I Come From West Point, New York, USA
But I Live Here Now Virginia?
This Is Who I was Bethany Rose Winston had always been a single mother. This fact had never bothered the independent woman, in fact, she often reveled in it. After her first husband had divorced her, five months pregnant and short on cash, the woman took her unborn child and up and left. She quickly found a clerical job at West Point, her father, a retired Sergeant, approved. As she became acclimated to the environment she had her first child.
Christened Russel Elijah Winston, he was a beautiful, perfect baby. He was born on schedule with little labor, and began his tradition of being hale and healthy, which persisted all his life. Rusty, as he was lovingly dubbed, became the unofficial poster boy for families on the base, even though he was not, in any sense an army brat. His mother was not even a member of the armed forces, and his father was never in his life. None of this bothered little Russ, as he has more than enough male role-models living on an Army base. As the young boy grew into a man, he began to idolize these men, making it his goal in life to be like them. But, we will come back to that later.
Nine years later Beth had moved up in the civilian ranks of the Armed forces, and had quite a few male admirers. She did not give much credence to these men, nor did she encourage their advances. She was quite happy being a single woman, strong, intelligent, and well-off. She loved her job, and the environment little Rusty grew in. Never could she in her wildest dreams have expected to be swept off her feet.
But, that was exactly what happened. When Abel Brand, a South African by birth, walked into her life, Beth knew something was different. He was romantic and charming, a gentleman, loved her, and made her feel alive. Beth realized when she met Abel that she had never truly felt the spark of life he showed her. Their relationship was fast-paced, passionate, and breath-taking. He changed her life, and then deployed.
A month after his unit was sent overseas into Macedonia to participate in the U.N. Protection Force to help maintain stability in the area of former Yugoslavia Beth missed her period. She realized then that she was with child. The woman, now in her thirties, was elated to be carrying a little piece of Abel, the man who lit up her life. She sent him an excited letter, detailing the pregnancy. A week and a half after she mailed it the news reached West Point that Colonel Abel Brand had been killed by a remotely operated bomb. Beth was devastated, but swore that she would raise the child as she had Russ, honoring her lover’s memory.
When the baby arrived she was a beautiful baby girl, with crystalline blue-green eyes and platinum blonde hair, the spitting image of her father. Though Beth did not know it at the time Alana Tess Winston, christened at birth, would turn out much like that father. She was fiery, compassionate, fun-loving, and strong-willed. The same categories Abel had possessed, he had given by the miracle of genetics to his little daughter. She grew beautifully, eclipsing her elder brother as the base’s little darling. Not that Rusty minded, he was as much in love with the child as the men and women on the base.
Alana, given the nickname Nala by her brother, viewed the entire army base as her playground. As she was adored by the inhabitants, she was never barred entrance to any section, nor was she reprimanded for any misadventure. Her young spirit grew and grew, never broken or hindered by those around her. She possessed a beautiful singing voice, at the tender age of there could be heard singing the national anthem in the mess hall. She continued this tradition, learning the acoustic guitar, the pan pipe, the harp, and the accordion. She attempted to learn any music anyone would teach her, but these were her favorites.
Beth, living on an army base, had instilled a great amount of patriotism into her children, along with old world values, Christianity, morality, and open-mindedness. This tradition was made even stronger when Berth was diagnosed with cancer, when Nala was six. This news shattered the family, but when they picked up the pieces they were stronger than ever. Beth swore to fight, and fight she did. Nala lapped up her mother’s ideas, slowly fusing them with her own adventurous spirit and open mind. She never thought anything could sway her convictions, but she was wrong.
On September eleventh 2001 the country was shocked by the terrorist attack on the twin towers in New York City, the Pentagon in Washington DC, and the field in Pennsylvania. Like the rest of the nation, the Winston family renewed their patriotism, and touted their love of their country. Nala, six at the time, took on jobs at the barracks, as many of the soldiers deployed to Iraq. Rusty, nearly seventeen at the time decided he wanted to enlist in the Army. Beth and Nala, thinking there was no better goal for the young man, encouraged him. He enlisted and began training the next year, at the age of eighteen.
When the invasion of Iraq began in 2003 Rusty was only a few months shy of being able to ship out. When he finally did the family rejoiced, but worried. The news from the front had been less than good, bordering on bleak, and the women at home began to truly fear. They continued their work, and prayed each night. Weeks passed with no word, and then the first letters arrived. One for Beth and one for Nala. This marked the start of a tradition in the Winston household. A letter came about every month, outlining daily life, and banal things. Rusty never spoke about the fighting, or the death, but both women could tell it was there. Beth chose to ignore it, but an eight year old Nala could not be fooled.
Each time one of her brother’s letters came Nala could read the undercurrent of tension in it. His handwriting, his choice of words, even the length and stricture of his sentences gave it a way to the girl, nearly nine by the time the war got bad for Rusty. She had always been close to her brother, and hated to read his suffering. She sent him gifts, letters, and other things, which he always thanked her for. By ten and a half she was waiting anxiously for the next letter. On her eleventh birthday, she began to sense something was wrong.
Rusty’s last letter had been a month and a half ago, and he had promised her another by the time of her birthday. Something wasn’t right. Her brother had always been punctual with the monthly intervals of the correspondence, and he had never missed a birthday or other holiday before. Nala truly became worried as first two months, then three passed with no letter. She shared her fears with her mother, but Beth denied any problems. Nala took the only outlets left to her, those of prayer and song. When the two men came to the door of the small house the women shared, Nala was not surprised.
With Rusty classed a POW/MIA, presumed deceased, Nala’s world changed. She watched the war continue, with no sign of stopping, little progress, and more lives lost. She heard her mother crying, and knew her own tears, smothered by pillows, were audible as well. She threw herself into her music, remembering her brother best through notes, chords, and words crooned late at night over light acoustic guitar. She grew up quickly on the day the men in their black suits showed up on her doorstep, and the uncrushable spirit she had developed got quite a test. While the mass didn’t break, it definitely came out with a few cracks. At the age of twelve she allowed herself the first physical representation of her loss in the form of a tattoo on her inner wrist of the well known symbol of those lost. When Beth found out her daughter had gone with an enlisted man to get the ink, she was not angry, but knew the girl was only expressing her pain.
The lives continued on, at West Point for the two women. When a year later, Beth’s cancer, which had been in remission, flared back up the two went about their lives as they had always, assuming that, once again Beth would fight off the disease with new drugs and willpower. But, they were wrong. A little over a year later, in late august of 2009, Beth succumbed to the disease, dying in her sleep. Nala knew that her mother was finally free of the pain which had been so pervasive in the last few months of her life, but she was still upset. As she had no other living relatives, Nala was relegated to the children’s services bureau of the closest city.
The people, busy with abuse cases, quickly sent the girl into the foster system. Being fourteen, and not the adorable child age anymore, it was difficult to find a family interested in Nala. But, eventually she found a home in Pinewood, with a local family, the Jenkinses. They have a son, sixteen to Nala’s fourteen. This should help in making the transition slightly easier for Nala. The family owned horsed, and Nala wished, silently on the train ride, to be allowed near one, perhaps to learn to ride. But she had no high hopes; foster families were notoriously stingy when it came to their charges.
This Is Who I am I'll make this home.
» This Heart It Beats;
I Lust Heterosexual
I Love Truthfullness, need, love, fixer-uper, depth of feeling
I Loathe Rudeness, thingyiness, unnecessary meanness, laying, doing drugs, cheating, fakeness
Maybe I loved Nala has never been in a relationship
Maybe I Didnt N/A
» This Is How We'll Dance;
I Bow Down dude
I Am Awesome
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[/color][/center]Time Of Day: Nearly Midnight
Others in the RP: OPEN [hospital staff please]
Words:1119 [/color]
Thanks Isa for helping =]
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