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excuse the wacky shape of this set. i have had too many square non-doll-or-text sets lately.[;

back from my trip.♥ i think i have a newfound appreciation for 95% of my class.[; {as for the rest of them...well, they can take their counter-covering make-up bag and shove it up somewhere painful.[;} do you guys think i should post photos? eh? i'm thinking about it, but it might take more effort than i feel like doing. ;3 maybe i'll blog about it later...

but for now, a roleplay audition! i really shouldn't keep joining some, but i've narrowed it down to my top three i'm active in. ;3 tvd, this one, and hsww.[; well, this one if i make it. ;D here i go;

NAME: Edie Alexis Hamilton
AGE: 21
ORIGIN: Melbourne, Fl
BIO: Edie is kind, free-spirited, and also a bit of a smart-a**. She moved to the Cambridge area only six months ago to try and find her-self. After a rocky college career she decided to drop-out and pursue her passion for painting full time. Her child-hood friend, Piper, a Cambridge student, invited Edie to stay with her and her other roommates in a small apartment. Edie got a part-time job as a waitress while using her spare time to paint. About a month after moving in she met Henry and it has been a crazy ride since then. She went from being an anonymous American to being one of Prince Henry's best-friends, and also the gossip of England. The two are now almost always together and even though Edie maybe enjoying her newfound friendship, and the two constantly remind everyone they are only friends, but there are those who would seek to break it and she needs to wise up fast to the way high-society really operates.
MODEL: Sandrah Hellberg {subject to change}
TAKEN BY: masquerading gypsy.ϟ {hopefully!}

◦◦◦ Questions To Be Answered ◦◦◦
 
○ Please give us a description of your life up until now...
Who am I? Everyone seems to know now. For just being friends with a guy, it’s like everyone thinks I must be up to something. They know my name, but they don’t know my story…but even I am beginning to forget my story. It seems like so long ago when I was back in Melbourne, Florida. My mother and father, Peter and Annalise, raised me with the best intentions. I guess they were pretty young, being only twenty. What can I say? High school sweethearts are just meant to be. I have a younger brother of four years named Jace. He’s great most of the time, although we weren’t exactly the best of friends when we were younger.
God, I hope I’m not boring you! That would be the worst. I’ve been incredibly bored {shall I even start on etiquette and a few college classes? I better not, because it just goes on forever!} before, and it did me no good.
I suppose you’re like the paparazzi though, just eating this sort of thing up. Don’t tell them any of this though. I can assure you that if this gets out, you won’t be doing so much longer. I do so hope I can trust you…
I guess it is possible to say I was a bit of a troublesome child. Nothing too bad; my parents raised me better than that. But I did have a slight tendency to climb a high tree when it got to close. Or paint on my walls when the paint begged me to. Then, of course, there was that time my brother ‘asked’ to have a make-over…
Those silly games are in the past now {well, maybe I’ve got this thing about painting on walls…}, and I’d like to think I’ve grown up a little bit.
I’ll spare you the story of elementary. Let’s just leave it that Melbourne is a bit of a small town, and the most exciting things can get for little kids is the new Barbie doll coming out. And I hated Barbies.
Thankfully, I was not stuck there forever. There are a few things that stuck with me from that place, and they probably always will.
I talk like an American. Apparently, it is strange to be friends with a prince when your accents don’t exactly match. I don’t see anything to wrong with it.
…..sometimes, I /really/ talk like an American. Isn’t that just what I said? You’d think, but it’s really not. I can keep my word choice and tone normal for the most part, but sometimes, a y’all or ‘ah-ite’ {it is supposed to be alright, ah-ite?} manages to slip from my lips occasionally. It’s accidental, I swear!
I appreciate little things. This town helped shaped me into a painter. What is art without details? Nothing, and not having much to notice makes you look at just about everything.
But, I suppose that is enough about Melbourne. You can only talk about a place that small for so long!
My father got a job as an entrepreneur in New York, and the rest of us packed up and went with him. I’ll admit, it was a bit hard having to leave everything and one in Florida behind, but I was only twelve. This move also led to much more positive things then what I left behind. I can’t imagine life without Harry, Piper, Hadley, Dulce, and so many more people…even Wilhelmina has a special place. But, I’m getting sidetracked, as I seem to be able to do quite easily. No one here seems to do it. Is it an American thing…?
But back to the matter at hand.
Piper and I met by chance on an October evening a year after we had moved to New York. Jace had adjusted nicely, but I was shy, awkward….just like most thirteen year olds, really. My father was having a big business banquet, but our babysitter was sick. Since my mother, bless her heart, has a tendency to be overprotective, she “couldn’t just get one on the spot! What if they did drugs? Had problems?…” Consequently, Jace and I tagged along. By some chance of fate, Piper had to go along too. When we met in the elevators, out fathers began to talk, but we could only manage small smiles and polite introductions. We were laughing easily and hanging out like best friends by the end of the night. From that night forward, we really were like best friends. It was a little hard to keep up correspondence, but we were determined. It’s hard to stop two stubborn girls on a mission!
Soon, she was entering high school, and myself a year later. We kept talking, of course, but not near as much. There was drama to deal with {major eye roller there}, hobbies to keep up with {journaling for Piper, and well…I was still trying to figure it out at first. I’ll get there, I promise.[;}, boys to swoon over {…none seemed too eager to swoon back at me though}, and memories to make. It was hard to keep up with a friend half-way across the world.
And it really sucks when you just need to a shoulder to cry on, and she isn’t even on the same continent!
Maybe it was a bummer for me then, but it was this moment I had alone that led to the discovery that is art.
People had begun to pick on me that day, more so than usual. It felt like kindergarten all over as girls teased my clothes and guys pulled my hair. I was already having a rough day, for just that morning I had watched my parents bicker uncontrollably. The one friend in New York I often depended on was absent, as she often was. When it became a bit too overwhelming, I ran….sprinting down stairs, ripping through hallways…the whole nine yards of drama. After a accidental stumble into the art room, I was confronted with Miss Wall, all alone, sitting calmly and painting. She didn’t ask about the tears that streamed from my eyes. She didn’t ask why I was out of breath. She just began to take out paints and brushes, lay them in front of a bank easel, and motion for me to go to her. With slight hesitation, I crossed the room.
The painting contained all of my emotions. It was full of anger and depression….honestly, it was a bit of a tragic piece of art. But I had found a way to let anything I felt inside out, and it was something I could be good at without trying very hard {because let’s face the facts here. It’s not like I can just pick up a basketball and shoot it in the hoop. It’s much harder than it looks!}.
High school had its up and its downs, but art always remained a constant. I didn’t have to worry about impressing anyone but myself. The freedom of expression was like magic to me. Nothing could rob me of the sense of joy painting grass across a backdrop brought me, or the curved nose of a little girl. Sorry that I don’t have much interesting to say about those years of my life. It was just average in New York, not the big city life that people expect. Yeah, I had a boyfriend or two, but nothing serious. Serious wasn’t my style, unless it came to art {well, sometimes…most of the time, my paintings are a bit free-and-easy}.
It was college that set things wacky.
I attended the state college in California, half way across the continent from my parents. It was part rebellion, part the beautiful art that waited me at CU. I had miles between my parents and myself to do whatever I wanted. 
There were parties. There were some unintended boys. And…there was art. I was so influenced by the beautiful culture of the world around me, the beauty it gave life too, that I began to fall behind in classes. Sure, I was always an A&B student, but this was a bit low, even for myself. Professors would question me, and I wouldn’t know the answer because I would be doodling a new idea for a painting on my notebook. Friends would invite me to parties {and I did say yes sometimes}, but I would say I couldn’t go just because there was a art fair in town.
The idea of painting as a way of life became so real for me, after seeing people do it neary every day.
I wanted to be like them…I want to be like them.
So I dropped out.
It probably should’ve taken more thought than I put into it. {so, maybe getting the idea as I fell asleep and acting on it the next morning had been a bit impulsive} I probably would’ve seen the light if I had stopped and thought, “Do I really want to quit college, something I know will help me in life, for a dream that might not work out?”
But I’m done with probably. What ifs are officially disappearing from my life. 
I love the life I am living now with Piper….and Henry. If the English society wants me out of the way, I really only have one thing to say.
 Screw them. I’m living life to the fullest.

○ Can you please describe how you met Prince Henry…
{this is not one of the requirements, but I just wanted to include it. It didn’t fit with the last question, so I figured I’d just add it. c;} It was a Saturday, and my mates {I’ve been trying to pick up with my British ‘chat’ lately, as to not stick out as much. I’m all for originality, sure, but I’d like to fit in in some way…} and I decided we would go clubbing. Well, it was more that Dulce and I decided we would go clubbing, and Piper and Hadley got dragged along. I didn’t think the club was all the great, but Dulce insisted it was one of the best. “All kinds of celebrities attend.” Which is true, as you could guess, but I could only think of the higher price we’d be paying to chug one with these so-called celebrities. Waitressing doesn’t exactly make me a millionaire. It turned out that really no one famous {excluding Henry, but we didn’t know about him} was there that night, and the place was still just a dump. My friends were letting lose when I decided to sneak around to the back, hopefully to shake off the annoying techno music that blared constantly. I bumped into a handsome, very drunk young man. He was alone, and I could tell by his intelligence with which he spoke that there wasn’t any way he would get home on his own. This boy, who I still hadn’t recognized as Henry, managed to spill out his address {really, the one drink I had must’ve gotten to me. How did I not recognize the place?}, and I figured I would help him get on a bus home. When we stepped outside….my plans changed a little. Flashing cameras and shouting cries don’t exactly go over well with a drunk…well, a drunk anyone, but specifically a prince. Piecing together who he was {ok, so the constant “Prince Henry! Prince Henry!” helped a little}, we rushed to my car. Doing some pretty dodgy driving, I managed to sneak him back to our apartment without too much trouble. I let him sleep, and well….the rest is known. 
 
○ Can you please describe some of your strengths...
Well, I can hold a paintbrush just lovely…and on the occasion I find inspiration I manage to have it scrawl paint across a canvass. I’m outspoken, although that can be good and bad, but it also gives me a strong desire to go after I want. I don’t exactly give up easily either, much to 99% of the British population’s dismay. I’m only Henry’s friend…can’t they cool it? Anyhow. Passion comes easy, as does sharing and giving a laugh.
 
○ Can you please describe some of your weaknesses...
My actions lately may tell you differently {which is totally sarcastic by the way…*see next interruption}, but I am a very impulsive person {I don’t see how dropping out of college and moving half way across the world couldn’t be seen that way!}. Thinking through things has not always been my strong suit. I don’t do well with all this ‘quiet and perfectly full of manners’ the people here seem to like, but it might not be too far fetched to say I am getting better. Maybe there’s hope after all…
 
○ Can you please give insight into some of your interests/hobbies...
 It’s an obvious known fact that I like to paint. Some of my clothes have stains that will never be removed, and there are some pieces of furniture that have a, erm….personal touch. It’s my passion above all other things, and I hope I can turn it into a career one day. I used to be interested in all kinds of sports, but I was never athletic enough to do anything past junior year in high school. Now, I’m too busy working and painting to have much else to do. There’s always hanging out with Henry of course, but do we really need to go down that road right now?
 
{out of character}
 
○ Will you be active...
Why yes, yes I well. Some weeks more than others, and some not as much, but I will still be very active!!
 
○ Why do you want to join this rp...
Would it be cheesy if I admitted to fantasies of princesses since I was little? It was so strong at one point that I actually forced people to call me Ariel and would not answer to Raegen. Yes, I was odd. But I have looked at many different princess-esque roleplays on polyvore, but I have never clicked into any of them. This one, though…it’s just so original! I love the characters {perhaps this one a bit more than others xD}, I love the plot…I just want to be a part of the magic this group has!
 
○ What do you think you can contribute to this rp...
I always feel like such a narcissistic ho/e answering this question. c; "Because i make pretty sets and my stories are lovely and i'll be active and i love this character." Lol...like every audition out there says that. Or "I try to make good sets." But y'know. All the same in the end. Well, lemme see. I'm sarcastic, and that's always fun for a girl like Edie. Sometimes I make people laugh. I've got a few stories up my invisible sleeves. I like fabricating outfits for things like this. Honestly? I just hope you pick me. I can't list reasons like this though. c; It's not my personality. xD
 
○ Top 5 Character choices
- not including Edie -
Riley Mackenzie {Barbara Palvin}
Piper Grace Quinn {Kelsey Van Mook}
Evelyn Elizabeth Windsor {Diana Moldoven}
Wilhelmina Lancaster {Ginta Lapina}
...and i'm not really sure who else. ;3 if i don't get any of those four characters, i'm not really sure if there's one up my alley. c;
 
○ Write A Short Story -

It was the tapping of fingers that first alerted me to Henry’s bad mood. He never had a nervous twitch, ever. As a prince, anything as mediocre as that would’ve been driven from him the moment it aroused. I was used to the composed Henry that could present himself in court at any moment {ok, there were exceptions when he was drunk}, but the boy who sat in front of me…? He was as nervous as school boy.

“What is it, Henry?” I asked, trying to hide the worry in my voice that already clouded my face. It was the third time I had inquired, and although I wasn’t normally one to discuss feelings, the simple “nothing” he kept giving me was the biggest lie I had ever heard.

“Nothing,” he chimed again.

I wanted to punch him. “Tell me, Henry, was it Wilhelmina?” I stretched my arms across the table, stopping the insistent drumming as I placed my fingers over them. He hadn’t even realized the movement of his hands until I stopped them. The look of impassive emotion that had been across his face our whole meeting flashed into a moment of confusion, vulnerability. 

There was no answer.

Which meant a yes.

It took nothing more than that. I took my hands from his, stood up from the table we shared, and strutted to his side. “We’re going out.” As if to protest, he opened his mouth, but no negativity came from the prince. Henry knew he needed a moment to get away just as much as I did. 

There was a sign as he used my hand to rise from the chair. I promised myself -- and him -- that there would be no more reason for sighing by the end of the night.

"Come on, Henry..." I murmured over my shoulder as I walked out.

And he came.

Just like I knew he would.
{so, if this helps at all, it did say to write a short story. c; and after all that info up above, i'm a little burned out for the night! i'm afraid mortals need their sleep. ;3 lol. have no fear that future stories will be longer!}
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