✧ full name : Sutton Clarissa Wynters
✧ age : 15
✧ grade : junior
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✧ nationality : French, Swiss
✧ hometown : Fribourg, Switerland
✧ family :
Leonardo Garbriel Wynters // Father // 41 // Business Partner for Valentino
Mirabellla Genevieve Wynters // Mother // 36 // Co-Editer of Vogue
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✧ short biography : A chilling frost had settled over everything. Icicles hanging from street signs and glass windows adorned with silvery, frozen dew. Nevertheless, the sun shone brightly, but didn't seem to make the bitter air any warmer. Though, in a hospital in the center of town, a baby girl emerged. Her hair a shimmering, dark wisp and crystal, icy eyes reflected both her mother and father. She was named Sutton. She grew up like any other child in Fribourg, inside. She often stayed near the indoor pool and read. Though, when Sutton turned 8, her family left the frostbitten beauty of Switerland and exchanged it for ther luxury of France. Sutton's family wasn't rich when she was born, but had made a small fortune over the years. Surely, they aren't the richest, but they do have money and power. In France, Sutton's father rekindled his friendship with one of his own college buddies and earned himself a job as an investor and Sutton changed her life. She began doing more privileged things she could never imagine and in the process may have lost her former self.
✧ secret(s) : When Sutton was 14, she attended a river side party at midnight. Though when she arrived, she wasn't exactly expecting a full scale party. Frightened, she tried to go home, but was cornered by a group of drunken teens. In a hasty move to escape, she struck one of them with a nearby wrench and ran away before she could see his fate. Though later, she found out the wrench had crushed his skull and he had died.
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✧ appearance : Barbara Palvin. Her looks can be described as Stunning, breath-taking and bombshell. Her crystal cerulean orbs ever change from light blue to light aquamarine. Healthy, bouncy curtains of locks are tinted a hazelnut brown and during the winter take on a mahogany. Lightly tanned, ever clear skin covers her lean, 5'6 stature. Light pink, baby lips set below a tiny ski slope nose. Beside them a twin rosy cheeks, showing no blemishes. She has a childish look to her, but don't be fooled.
✧ personality : Ever heard of first impression make or break you? Sutton lives by that code. For her, you either make it the first time or don't bother trying. She is a judgmental little beast, a ticking time bomb. Though, you at first she'll be just cheery, sooner or later her true intentions will bleed through. Sutton is vicious, no doubt about it, but never under estimate her, They may just be a small ray of her former self trying to fid it's way out.
✧ strengths/weaknesses :
Strengths:: Her- Fight, drive, determination, competitiveness, and awarness
Weaknesses:: Her- Scheming, Revengefulness, Hot headedness and short temper
✧ invite only clique preference : Platinums
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✧ activeness : 9/10
✧ anything extra? : Nerp
✧ six favorite possessions? : Pink Rhinestone encrusted Mac Air, Pink feather and silver rhinestone encased IPhone 7, Dior Peach Lipstain, Gucci Diamond sided Sunglasses, Yorkshire Terrier named Bean, Platinum Unlimited Credit Card
✧ sample roleplay :
Sutton Clarissa Wynters
As the light golden sun rays filter through my bedroom curtains, my crystal irises open. Yawning, I stretch my arms over my head and call for my maid. "Merideth!" I call, fully awake now. She rushes into the room and stops just at the foot of my bed. "Yes, Miss Sutton?" She asks, smoothing out her black and white outfit. She was a stocky woman with a Russian accent. Her hair was dark, which contrasted with her pale skin. "Call Elisabeth and tell her I'm on my way, and while you're at it, can you get me my morning latte? I told Raphael to have it at my bedside by the time I opened my eyes, but it seems to be absent." I say, clearly dismayed. A conflicted look crosses Merideth's face before she spoke. "But Miss, you're mother had arranged for you to al go to Mass together, then to brunch." She reminds me in a confused voice. I wave my hand in a uncaring fashion. "Please, that woman could care less about religion and only attends brunch to hear the latest gossip." I say, just as Bean trots through the door. She makes her way into my bed from the small set of stairs I arranged on the left side. I scoop her up in my arms and stroke her hair. "And tell Jeorgie that Bean needs a hair cut." I order, ignoring the dismayed yelps that she lets out. As the maid leaves I sit back in my bed, awaiting the moment I have the steaming cup of latte goodness in my hands.