KENNEDY, TAHLIA EVANGELINE

[TAHLIA EVANGELINE KENNEDY]

Name: Tahlia Evangeline Kennedy
Age: Eighteen
Gender: Female
class: high risk
Birthday: October 30th
Face Claim: Megan Fox
Height, and weight: 5'6
Personallity:

Most of her life she's had it shoved in her face that she needs to be a perfectionist about everything, including her appearance and how she acts. She's supposed to be prim and proper and speak only when spoken to. She's never supposed to act out, or be too loud. Now that she's away from that atmosphere Tahlia can't help, but act the opposite. She's loud and out spoken and usually doesn't give a shit what other people think. She can be really in your face and make crude comments. Despite being a little cocky she isn't arrogant, well... she doesn't find herself to be arrogant. Simply better than others, because that's how it is, right? She tends to be very indecisive about things and will sit around thinking about what to pick rather than just picking one thing over the other and being done with it. Or she'll try to find a way to have both, no matter the situation. Tahlia got insanely bored with the lifestyle she was forced to lead and the only way out of it was getting high and drunk off her ass. She's addicted to coke and mildly addicted to meth, and she's a heavy drinker.

Tahlia has a weird addiction to pain, the fact that being in pain can almost turn on being problem enough. She doesn't even know the real reason behind it, just that every tattoo or piercing she's ever gotten felt oddly good ever since the night that guy attacked her. Instead of getting over that night and pushing it out of her mind she sort of gives into it, finding comfort in the pain that she'd felt before and preferring it. She plans on getting as many tattoos as she can besides on her face or stupid places because of that fact. She doesn't even try and hide it either, not finding a true problem in the face that she absolutely adores physical pain. She's insanely rough with people she's intimate with, being dominant half the time. She bites and scratches, and likes that in return. People literally have to be able to keep up with her.

Tahlia is really bitter about the topic of her brother's death, mainly because she doesn't believe it's real. At this point in her life, she'll probably be quicker to punch you in the face than actually sit down and have a logical conversation about what happened to him seven months ago.

To put it into simple words, Tahlia is Bitter, Snarky, Loud, Obnoxious, Argumentative, Narcissistic, Addictive, Rude, Intimidating, In your face, Blunt, Judgmental, Manipulative, Masochistic, and Brutally Honest.

Illness:

Addicted to coke, meth, and alcohol, sexual addiction, sexual masochism, and Delusional Disorder.

Family:

Justin Kennedy - father.
Alicia Kennedy - mother.

Dillon Kennedy - brother.

History:

Tahlia grew up with a fairly normal family, the only differences between hers and middle-class families is that hers was rich and her mother wanted a perfect daughter. She started Tahlia off in beauty pageants at the age of six and winning was something that came really very easily to her. She had oddly good features for such a young child, full lips and very intense eyes, naturally dark hair with natural high lights in the sun. It was naturally thick and wavy, easily curled and styled for each pageant. Her mother couldn't be more proud, constantly shoving her rules and constrictions down the child's throat. She pretty much created a mini monster, someone who didn't act like a child and more like a young adult. Five years and several trophies later Tahlia was ready to snap. She couldn't take it anymore, she just wanted to live like a normal kid. One of her only escapes from the real world was books, as nerdy as it may have been, but she read constantly to get herself away from the boring life she lead.

As the next few years past she got more and more into it. One night, on the way home from the library, Tahlia was kidnapped. Naturally, she resisted and freaked out, but nothing prevailed against the adult man. He brutally raped and attacked her, dropping her off on her doorstep. That day was such a shock to the little girl that something inside her snapped and after the long hours in the hospital and being fussed over she had her first episode. She completely freaked out once in her room and at home, breaking everything she could get her hands on and then using the shards of glass from one of her mirrors to etch deep cuts into each thigh. No one ever found out about the cuts on her upper, inner thighs though, each being easily concealed by clothing and fake smiles. Her mother was of course disgusted by the actions of her daughter, breaking apart the room they'd spent precious money on. She had some compassion, though, just a slight bit for the fifteen-year-old girl that'd just gotten raped.

Partying was something Tahlia easily got into at the age of sixteen, never staying home simply to avoid her family and her mother that couldn't even look at her the same after Tahlia refused to compete in pageants anymore. Through this partying she met a guy, a few years older than her, but she didn't care. He was her first serious relationship, her losing her virginity to him after four months, and then losing him a month later. It was stupid of her, and she knew it, but she'd thought he'd loved her and it was like a smack in the face when she'd found him cheating on her a month later. She couldn't believe that she was so dumb as to believe him and how seemingly cliche their relationship was. How many girls does that sort of thing happen to that they finally won't learn. She was disgusted by the idea that she ever let him manipulate her.

Over the course of the next years she began to develop addictions to coke, meth, and alcohol. The partying grew more and more frequent up until the time she was seventeen and over those few years was when Tahlia started to realize her odd obsession with pain because a lot of the time after parties and by the time she'd wake up she'd find herself bruised and sometimes bleeding, either more cuts on her inner thighs, some on her hips, and some just below her breasts.

She gave up the cutting for tattoos, though, getting some of her first done by anyone she could find willing to tattoo the underage girl. The partying and tattooing proceeded, her mother not having the slightest clue of exactly what her supposed to be perfect-pageant daughter was getting into until one morning she found her passed out on the living room floor with only a bra on and the newest and biggest tattoo bandaged up on her chest. That was it, her mother was done with Tahlia, she was no longer looked upon as a daughter by her mother. They didn't kick her out just yet, though, her father and brother being adamant that the girl stay. At least stay until she was done with high school, then her and Dillon would probably move out together. Neither of them could stand the damn house, each family member was miserable and it was evident.

A few months into the next year something terrible happened, though. An odd twist changed the story just slightly more, rocking Tahlia's world to a new extreme that not even she could handle. Dillon had gone too far one night, he attempted to hustle the wrong person and things went downhill from there. When Tahlia returned from a night of partying the next day, staggering up the street in her towering heels, makeup smeared and clothes wrinkled as if they'd been taken off several times over the course of the night, she came across Dillon's car. There he sat in the front seat, motionless with a piece of solid black duct tape across his mouth. Buried up under his ribs was a knife, his shirt soaked in blood. Her screams didn't stop until she was sedated by the ambulance, everything really blanking from her mind of that day. She doesn't remember it at all, not her punching her mother when she tried to stop her screaming and pull her away from the car. Not her punching the police man either when her tried to stop her from tearing open the car door and cradling her younger brother in her arms. She doesn't remember fighting off the three paramedics it took to finally get a hold of her and sedate her. She doesn't remember a thing. That's when she delusions started, she'd wake up some nights and sneak into Dillon's room. She'd think he was laying there on his bed and 'wake him', sitting there on the edge of his bed and talk to him for hours. Finally, after a month of dealing with that, the partying, and the addition of unwanted tattoos her mother couldn't deal. Tahlia was sent away, after another huge fight between the two. Tahlia can't control her anger once she's completely enraged and the police were called. To Aldridge the young girl went.

Likes&Dislikes:

/likes.
Dillon.
Pain, and lot's of it.
Sex.
Gorgeous boys.
Coke, Ketamine, and Meth.
Physical pain.
Tattoos and Piercings; on herself and guys.
Drinking and doing drugs.
Partying late and Sleeping in.
Rebelling to anything.
Any Attention.
Fights and adrenaline rushes.
Freedom.

/dislikes.
Authority.
Uptight people.
Schedules.
Restrictions and Rules.
Her parents.
Her anger issues.
When she feels like she can't control herself.
Being forced to do anything she doesn't want to.
Anyone she feels is 'challenging' her.
People who try to talk about Dillon 'dying'.

Roleplayer Name/ Alias: Hayley
Experience:

I have no idea, I've been roleplaying for about three years all over the place, though. Mostly at boards and neopets.

Roleplay sample:

The cool day was almost enough to remind her of Germany; her naturally being used to more bitter temperatures during really all seasons. It wasn't cold enough, though, and she couldn't wear a big fuzzy jacket like she preferred. Really, her entire wardrobe consisted mostly of summery clothes that were almost always paired with a big warm jacket, she wasn't so used to so much skin showing on a constant basis- not that she minded. Narcissistic was close to being an understatement, the foreign girl is cute a person to take, completely in your face, loud, obnoxious, and usually just plain rude. Some of it is defense, being thrown into a new American school isn't exactly comforting, but they are her true colors, her demeanor not really changing from her ways before the big move.

As soon as the bell rang, cuing the switch from whatever class she was in -not that she cared to remember- to lunch in which she hated all so much more. The annoying gathering of kids was rather offsetting to her, mostly because there was a constant, loud buzzing of slang filled English in her ears that could sometimes get her into an anxious frenzy. So, the plan for the day was to skip out on that obnoxiously avoidable event and possibly skip out on the rest of school all together.

Gathering up the very few things she had she was practically the first out of her classroom; a little push and shove did come in handy, and nearly flew down the hall to her locker. The locker she despised almost as much as lunch, which she almost despised as much as the rest of her classes. The lock really seemed to have an equal dislike towards her, though, because it hardly ever budged.

Clicking in the three numbers she tugged down hard on the piece of metal, pulling all of seven more times when it didn't open. "Ugh, Svetlana hate locker." She growled under her breath, wavy, messy mane of blond falling over her shoulders as she nearly threw her books at the ground, not even close to being in the mood for her locks petty games. One more time and it didn't actually open, though, the empty lockers shell being stuffed with her books and slammed back shut in maybe two seconds flat.

Down the hall she continued to walk, heels clicking in a close to intimidating way. Too lunch she was not headed at all, but the back doors of the lunchroom rather, possibly through the courtyard, down to the parking lot and to make her escape.

Nothing is ever that easy, though, is it? As soon as she made it to the bustling lunch room the sound was overwhelming and- of course -someone shoved their chair out just as she was making her way by.

A long line of German curse words followed with her dark glare, even more so not in the mood for this kids little antics. Let's anger the foreign girl, yay.

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[MR DOC DAMISON]

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