And we'll never be {ROYALS} (open to wealthy D2 citizens)
Jun 2, 2014 4:43:48 GMT -5
Post by Marrs ღ (FAF) on Jun 2, 2014 4:43:48 GMT -5
[attr="class","CVcontainer1temp4"]
[newclass=".CVcontainer1temp4"]width:356px;background-image:url(http://imageshack.us/a/img855/7058/iybl.png);padding:30px;border:#a0a0a0 solid 30px;[/newclass][attr="class","CVtitletemp4"]
I found solace
I found solace
[attr="class","CVimg1temp4"]
[attr="class","CVsubtitletemp4"]
[attr="class","CVcontainer2temp4"]
"You'll look beautiful, Dia!"
Gabby claps twice and beams at me, proceeding to murmur to herself about what more can be done about my hair and make up. Inwardly, I sigh. Don't get me wrong; I love Gabby. She can be a real sweetheart if you try and get to know her, always so chatty and friendly with everybody, but you gotta be really careful about what you say around her. She's a bit sensitive to personal criticism (Trust me, I've learned the hard way.)
"So, what do you think?" My temporarily hired stylist gives me a quick once-over before looking me straight in the eye with that fiery 'say-you-like-it' stare of hers, her bright blue eyes shimmering with positive expectation.
I turn to face the mirror and fail to recognize myself.
I'm clad in a skin-tight, cleavage revealing, midnight blue gown with sequins covering every inch of the fabric. My hair is pinned to my head in strange places, forming an elaborate up-do that looks as if it could fall off any second. Rather surprisingly, Gabby didn't over-do the make up; it's light and refreshing, yet oh-so not me.
I hear her giggle beside me and place her long, lady-like fingers on my chin, soundly closing my slacked jaw. Huh, didn't realise it was open.
"It's..." Not me, Gabby. Not the Dia everyone knows."...stunning."
She claps her hands again, lightly bouncing on the balls of her feet as she celebrates her victory. "Oooh, I knew you'd love it! I just knew it!"
I can't help but smile; she acts so much younger than her twenty years. After a few final touches, she ushers me off to the main-room where all the guests are seated.
Father's business parties are never on my list of favourite events. If you ask me, they're just places where rich people can brag about their money without the fear of sounding presumptuous to anybody. Crisp suit and ties, expensive wine, musky perfumery; It's all just so jaded here. I have to attend, though. Daddy dearest will have reputation issues to deal with if I don't show up.
I push open the double-doors, feeling overly opulent as I walk forth with people staring at me like I'm Cinderella or something. Father comes forward to greet me with a stiff hug and a casual whisper for me to try to walk like a lady. Curse you, Gabby. Two-inch or five, I'm never wearing heels again.
I seat myself on the black leather couch as father scurries off to meet some elite agents who have business-related ties with the Capitol. My temples throb in-tune with the chatter of noises around me and I feel like my head is ready to combust any second. A moan escapes me as I let my head fall back against the firm sofa cushion. What the fuck did I get myself into?!
Gabby claps twice and beams at me, proceeding to murmur to herself about what more can be done about my hair and make up. Inwardly, I sigh. Don't get me wrong; I love Gabby. She can be a real sweetheart if you try and get to know her, always so chatty and friendly with everybody, but you gotta be really careful about what you say around her. She's a bit sensitive to personal criticism (Trust me, I've learned the hard way.)
"So, what do you think?" My temporarily hired stylist gives me a quick once-over before looking me straight in the eye with that fiery 'say-you-like-it' stare of hers, her bright blue eyes shimmering with positive expectation.
I turn to face the mirror and fail to recognize myself.
I'm clad in a skin-tight, cleavage revealing, midnight blue gown with sequins covering every inch of the fabric. My hair is pinned to my head in strange places, forming an elaborate up-do that looks as if it could fall off any second. Rather surprisingly, Gabby didn't over-do the make up; it's light and refreshing, yet oh-so not me.
I hear her giggle beside me and place her long, lady-like fingers on my chin, soundly closing my slacked jaw. Huh, didn't realise it was open.
"It's..." Not me, Gabby. Not the Dia everyone knows."...stunning."
She claps her hands again, lightly bouncing on the balls of her feet as she celebrates her victory. "Oooh, I knew you'd love it! I just knew it!"
I can't help but smile; she acts so much younger than her twenty years. After a few final touches, she ushers me off to the main-room where all the guests are seated.
Father's business parties are never on my list of favourite events. If you ask me, they're just places where rich people can brag about their money without the fear of sounding presumptuous to anybody. Crisp suit and ties, expensive wine, musky perfumery; It's all just so jaded here. I have to attend, though. Daddy dearest will have reputation issues to deal with if I don't show up.
I push open the double-doors, feeling overly opulent as I walk forth with people staring at me like I'm Cinderella or something. Father comes forward to greet me with a stiff hug and a casual whisper for me to try to walk like a lady. Curse you, Gabby. Two-inch or five, I'm never wearing heels again.
I seat myself on the black leather couch as father scurries off to meet some elite agents who have business-related ties with the Capitol. My temples throb in-tune with the chatter of noises around me and I feel like my head is ready to combust any second. A moan escapes me as I let my head fall back against the firm sofa cushion. What the fuck did I get myself into?!
[attr="class","CVnotestitletemp4"]
[attr="class","CVnotestemp4"]
Dia Parker - D2 - Female
[attr="class","CVtitletemp4"]
in satire
in satire
[newclass=".CVtitletemp4"]width:300px;text-align:center;background-color:#4f827d;line-height:8px;font-size:15px;padding:25px;letter-spacing:4px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:arial narrow;color:#ffffff;font-size:11px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".CVcontainer2temp4"]width:334px;background-color:#ffffff;text-align:justify;padding:8px;line-height:11px;color:#000000;font-family:georgia;font-size:11px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".CVsubtitletemp4"]width:300px;background-color:#2D27210;text-align:center;text-transform:uppercase;padding:25px;color:#ffffff;font-family:narrow;font-weight:bold;font-size:11px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".CVimg1temp4"]width:350px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".CVnotestitletemp4"]font-family:georgia;font-size:18px;color:#4f827d;margin-top:5px;margin-bottom:5px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".CVnotestemp4]font-size:11px;font-family:arial;text-align:justify;border-center:11px solid #a0a0a0;background-color:#cfcfcf;padding:8px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".trinCredits"]font-family:arial narrow;font-size:10px;font-style:italic;letter-spacing:1px;[/newclass]
