More Blair Woods.
This one is growing on me, but, I know the bio had two options for models, and here i am suggesting a third. I just wasn't feeling Lily Donaldson for the character, and Allison Harvard...frankly she annoys me. So I would like to use Skye Stracke, if that's alright. If not, I'll go with Allison.
You would never guess from her looks that Clairity is the odd, scary one. The one that will just appear when you're talking about something, the one who spends hours on end in her room, writing dark poetry and novels, which she always writes with a quill and parchment paper. A thick layer of eyeliner is practically tatttooed to her face, and her long, blond hair is always a mangled mess. Nobody knows much about her, as she often skips classes to do God knows what. People don't know if she's just a compulsive liar, but when she does talk she talks about being able to talk with ghosts and the spirit world. Anyone who rooms with her (no one so far yet has) will find oujia boards, voodoo dolls, crosses, and other creepy artifacts, sprawled across the floor.
Model: Skye stracke
I picture her wearing a cape. And like, making billowing exits, then just appearing somewhere else. Like POOF!...Biiiillllloooow.
She had ghost girl eyes. The color of winter, the color of spiderwebs, and they watched in their sockets, orbs of haze, but sharp, under the surface. They had seen so much, those ghost girl eyes.
“I saw Bloody Mary, in the mirror, once.”
They won’t realize she had been there, as they were speaking, but when she did, the room went silent, cold. They hadn’t been talking about that Bloody Mary, but the drink, and how nasty it was, and how wasted they had been. They looked at her, the ghost girl, and replied, “We were talking about something else.”
She doesn’t mind. “She’s asking for you.” Says Clarity Hailstrom, “Bloody Mary. She said your name specifically.” And a smirk taints the tip of her lips.
The girls speaking grimace, sneer, move away. They have things to do.
She always has something to say, when no one wants to hear it, Miss Clarity Hailstrom.
“There’s a spider on your back.” Her voice, always placid, almost monotonous, but whispery, girlish. There is never any spider, she just likes to see the reaction, the panicked, Get it off! Get it off! reaction. Did I get it? “Yes, you got it,” Clarity answers sincerely, moving away.
When she moves, her black velvet and satin cloaks and coats move with her, grim reaper billow, smoke in the night. When she comes, she materializes, poofs into existence without a sound...but when she makes her exit. All nature hushes in her wake.
But who is Clarity Hailstrom? She has a new story each week. Her conception, always a romantic monster mash, always heartbroken romance. Her father an incubi, her mother a beautiful nymph. Her father, Count Dracula, her mother Frankenstein bride. Her father mist, her mother, the night.
She’s as pale as the moon, freckled with dust stars.
But for all she appears, she has seen her own blood, and therefore, her own, dissapointed, humanity. Mortality. She’s seen the flickers in the night, the face of those who have passed, or so she tells the tales of, good for campfire slumber party frights, but poor for lunchtime conversation. She wants to be one of them, forever at peace.
But who is Clarity Hailstrom, really?
What really lies behind those ghost girl eyes?
PS: This layout is really rejuvenating.