- Messages
- 217
- OOC First Name
- Emzies
- Blood Status
- Half Blood
- Relationship Status
- Interested in Somebody
- Sexual Orientation
- Heterosexual
- Wand
- Willow Wand 14" Unicorn Tail Hair
- Age
- 12/2014
It had been a rocky few months for this new adult. Her life a little bit of a mess, her time in any one place as always proved much shorter than when it was the situation with others. Having worked hard in school, in all the classes, she had been allowed to skip ahead, and this in turn had allowed her to be able to graduate at the right time, rather than a year late. She'd graduated, at long last with her head held high and memories from too many different schools. Through all of this however, the young blonde had amassed a number of friends, and with the help of her friends she had stood up to her family. She had stood up to her mother, telling her that she didn't want to be a figure head for the Williams family, set only to marry and bare children doing very little though she was more than capable of being successful. This had lead to many a fallout, but Charlotte being Charlotte had managed to get her way. She had asked and pestered for so long that her mother and father had just given in to her demands, and she had broken off from the family unit. Well, in part. She was in Paris, living on her own in a pretty penthouse apartment in the 3rd district of Paris. A relatively large place considering, close to the shops and little cafe's that Charlotte had always loved. While she split a lot of her time between London and Paris, the teen lived from the single bedroom apartment. Her bedroom had painted white walls, and her bed faced large windows overlooking the street and the not too far away garden. It was of course paid for by Charlotte's father who had finally sold the house in New Zealand and given the money to Charlotte to buy the flat. Which she had been thoroughly pleased about. It was a stunning place. Maybe a little big for just her, but it was what she needed. While in Paris, Charlotte was looking for a job, something to help her out until she figured out what to do. But, she spent most of her time with friends, or shopping. She shopped a lot, but part of this agreement with her parents was that whatever she bought was to be fitted to her exact measurements, which her mother had pre-decided. Which meant that whatever Charlotte wore was fitted to her thin frame exactly. All in all, while it would seem that Charlotte had not done much breaking off with her parents she'd done exactly what she needed to begin with. She had stepped away from that constant life, and was breaking into her own. Being herself and loving it. She had taken up art classes, and ballet classes. She'd ended up doing a few modeling jobs, people sometimes knew who she was. The daughter of a British Lord. A well respected man, as were her brothers. That had definitely helped with the modeling. But, with all that being said, there were some things that she felt she lacked in her life.
After a few pathetic tries at love, the girl had believed that maybe she just wasn't good enough for people. That she wasn't pretty enough for anyone. Which was wrong. She had long golden blonde hair, she had soft green eyes and a petite figure. Her waist was small, and her legs long and slim. She had a fair chest which suited her figure perfectly. Not too small but not too big. She spent hours putting on various bits of make up to make sure she was beautiful believing that she wasn't if she didn't wear any and yet she had no luck. However, at the offer of a date, Charlotte would never say no. It was why she had turned down an offer to go home for the weekend and had stayed in a snowy Paris late in December. Christmas merely a week away. That she would go home for. She had gotten up late, spent the day watching fresh snow fall onto the ground below. While strolling around her apartment with a skip in her step and a joyful air. The entire house was decorated for Christmas, various lights, and a small tree in the coroner of the room. She had begun getting ready later in the day, giving herself enough time to wash and then prim herself up. Putting the usual amount of make up, that emphasized her eyes, and her rosy lips, which she added pink lip gloss to. Subtle eye shadow, subtle blusher. It was only after all that, that the girl had finally gotten dressed. Her dress was brand new, it had arrived from her mother two days before. It was a birthday present, her 19th had been a few days before. It was a gorgeous strapless dress, with a detailed lace white bodice and a mint green skirt. The dress was a little tricky to get on, but using her wand, Charlotte managed it. Like with everything her mother bought and sent to her, it was fitted to pull in her waist, to the extent that it forced Charlotte to stand straighter, that it was difficult to bend and always made her wonder if this was a further indication from her mother that Charlotte was in her eyes fat. Which the dress didn't make her look in the slightest. The skirt came midway down her thighs. It floated up when Charlotte twirled in the dress as she looked at herself in the mirror. The fact it wasn't a pencil skirt Charlotte liked. She had many pencil skirts and dresses with pencil skirts, and those were always worse, since it really limited movement. This dress allowed her to walk easier, and really all it did was pull in her waist giving her a smaller appearance, and making sure that there was no stomach bulge. The last things that Charlotte did as it approached her being late rather than on time was the shoes, the matching pumps with a bow on the back, which made her legs look even longer and gave her a little extra height. Added to this was a small jacket, and her umbrella. It was winter outside, and this dress exposed much of what should be covered up in such weather. With that all done, she grabbed her bag and left the apartment.
The night hadn't gone well, after waiting outside her apartment for an hour, constantly calling the person who was meant to be taking her on a date, it had gotten too cold for the teen. She had proceed to go to where he'd said they'd be going merely the other night. She went in and asked if he was there, which he wasn't, and then asked if there was a reservation under his name, or hers. Which there wasn't. It had been pretty embarrassing and upsetting for her. She didn't cry however, Charlotte rarely did, and not over guys. She just reminded herself that she should've known better. Charlotte wondered through the streets of Paris. Putting her arms around herself as she walked, holding the umbrella up awkwardly. Willing herself to not slip on the ice in those incredibly high shoes. The last thing she needed was falling and hurting herself. Finally, three hours after she was meant to have gone on the date, she found herself outside a familiar sight. A restaurant that she knew, well, where she knew the manger, and head chef. Her father had employed them for a function once and Charlotte had charmed them both by helping out and by being herself. She was grateful, but noticed it was late, she doubted it was still open. Charlotte crossed the street quickly. She quickly saw it was still open and stepped inside. Brushing stray strands of blonde hair back into place. Closing the umbrella as she stepped in. The place was quiet, a few people were left clearly finishing up. The man at the door had been about to tell her that they were closing soon and could therefore not take anyone else. But, upon seeing Charlotte called behind him to the manager who quickly walked over to her and greeted her in the usual French manner. Taking her coat and umbrella from her, and leading her to a table by the window but close to a radiator. Saying how good it was to see her, how beautiful she looked, how she had grown and that he would send over a waiter straight away to get her order as soon as possible. Charlotte thanked him, and then sat down. Straightening the dress as she sat down. At least this would be nice. But, she did still realise that she was eating alone in a Parisian restaurant after being stood up by a guy who didn't even have the decency to call. For a short few moments, upon this realisation, Charlotte placed her head in her hands and let out a long shaky breath.
After a few pathetic tries at love, the girl had believed that maybe she just wasn't good enough for people. That she wasn't pretty enough for anyone. Which was wrong. She had long golden blonde hair, she had soft green eyes and a petite figure. Her waist was small, and her legs long and slim. She had a fair chest which suited her figure perfectly. Not too small but not too big. She spent hours putting on various bits of make up to make sure she was beautiful believing that she wasn't if she didn't wear any and yet she had no luck. However, at the offer of a date, Charlotte would never say no. It was why she had turned down an offer to go home for the weekend and had stayed in a snowy Paris late in December. Christmas merely a week away. That she would go home for. She had gotten up late, spent the day watching fresh snow fall onto the ground below. While strolling around her apartment with a skip in her step and a joyful air. The entire house was decorated for Christmas, various lights, and a small tree in the coroner of the room. She had begun getting ready later in the day, giving herself enough time to wash and then prim herself up. Putting the usual amount of make up, that emphasized her eyes, and her rosy lips, which she added pink lip gloss to. Subtle eye shadow, subtle blusher. It was only after all that, that the girl had finally gotten dressed. Her dress was brand new, it had arrived from her mother two days before. It was a birthday present, her 19th had been a few days before. It was a gorgeous strapless dress, with a detailed lace white bodice and a mint green skirt. The dress was a little tricky to get on, but using her wand, Charlotte managed it. Like with everything her mother bought and sent to her, it was fitted to pull in her waist, to the extent that it forced Charlotte to stand straighter, that it was difficult to bend and always made her wonder if this was a further indication from her mother that Charlotte was in her eyes fat. Which the dress didn't make her look in the slightest. The skirt came midway down her thighs. It floated up when Charlotte twirled in the dress as she looked at herself in the mirror. The fact it wasn't a pencil skirt Charlotte liked. She had many pencil skirts and dresses with pencil skirts, and those were always worse, since it really limited movement. This dress allowed her to walk easier, and really all it did was pull in her waist giving her a smaller appearance, and making sure that there was no stomach bulge. The last things that Charlotte did as it approached her being late rather than on time was the shoes, the matching pumps with a bow on the back, which made her legs look even longer and gave her a little extra height. Added to this was a small jacket, and her umbrella. It was winter outside, and this dress exposed much of what should be covered up in such weather. With that all done, she grabbed her bag and left the apartment.
The night hadn't gone well, after waiting outside her apartment for an hour, constantly calling the person who was meant to be taking her on a date, it had gotten too cold for the teen. She had proceed to go to where he'd said they'd be going merely the other night. She went in and asked if he was there, which he wasn't, and then asked if there was a reservation under his name, or hers. Which there wasn't. It had been pretty embarrassing and upsetting for her. She didn't cry however, Charlotte rarely did, and not over guys. She just reminded herself that she should've known better. Charlotte wondered through the streets of Paris. Putting her arms around herself as she walked, holding the umbrella up awkwardly. Willing herself to not slip on the ice in those incredibly high shoes. The last thing she needed was falling and hurting herself. Finally, three hours after she was meant to have gone on the date, she found herself outside a familiar sight. A restaurant that she knew, well, where she knew the manger, and head chef. Her father had employed them for a function once and Charlotte had charmed them both by helping out and by being herself. She was grateful, but noticed it was late, she doubted it was still open. Charlotte crossed the street quickly. She quickly saw it was still open and stepped inside. Brushing stray strands of blonde hair back into place. Closing the umbrella as she stepped in. The place was quiet, a few people were left clearly finishing up. The man at the door had been about to tell her that they were closing soon and could therefore not take anyone else. But, upon seeing Charlotte called behind him to the manager who quickly walked over to her and greeted her in the usual French manner. Taking her coat and umbrella from her, and leading her to a table by the window but close to a radiator. Saying how good it was to see her, how beautiful she looked, how she had grown and that he would send over a waiter straight away to get her order as soon as possible. Charlotte thanked him, and then sat down. Straightening the dress as she sat down. At least this would be nice. But, she did still realise that she was eating alone in a Parisian restaurant after being stood up by a guy who didn't even have the decency to call. For a short few moments, upon this realisation, Charlotte placed her head in her hands and let out a long shaky breath.