Vere Locke // D1 // WIP

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cosetty Hunter 51 POSTS last seen Sept 2, 2015 10:36:04 GMT -5	Vere Locke // D1 // WIP Jun 3, 2015 19:28:33 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by cosetty on Jun 3, 2015 19:28:33 GMT -5 Guinevere "Vere" Locke D1 {Chasing the Unobtainable} ((Muff's plot eyyyo)) Light step Trainer Theme song: Bitch Better Have My Money, Riri ? I will get to this eventually??? tomorrow??? tonight? sOON
	Last Edit: Jul 6, 2015 18:00:52 GMT -5 by cosetty

cosetty
Hunter

51 POSTS

last seen Sept 2, 2015 10:36:04 GMT -5

Vere Locke // D1 // WIP Jul 6, 2015 18:07:07 GMT -5

Post by cosetty on Jul 6, 2015 18:07:07 GMT -5

Guinevere "Vere" Locke // D1

         Balancing on the line between young and ageless, Vere's body is uncertain if she's as much of a woman as Vere insists. Her body is tall, strong, steady. Toned through hard work and determination, her shoulders sit straight and high. But the hidden corners of herself say something different: the crook of the collarbone, the base of the spine, the arches of the feet, the length of her shins, the stretch of her reach. These are places still unknown, still growing into the image Vere puts forward. That's the issue, this disconnect between mind and body. More on that later.

         Vere's hair is a mess of curls. Dark brown ringlets tumble down her shoulders to brush against the ends of her shoulder blades. Her skin is a rich brown, smooth but for nearly indistinguishable freckles spotted cross the bridge of her nose. She had always been blessed with unblemished skin, but she worked hard to maintain her slightly edgy beauty. Her brows are thick, arched over dark brown eyes with not a hair out of place. Yesterday’s eyeliner always smudged artistically across her lash line. A smear of red across her lips, gloss or matte or velvet, but red, always red.

         Basically, lookin’ good’s hard work, kids.

         Hard work can’t smooth out every wrinkle, however. Vere’s legs are too skinny, her shoulders slightly uneven. One of her top teeth was crooked. Come to think of it, the bridge of her nose wasn’t entirely straight either. Come to think of it, she wasn’t entirely straight either. She had a scar, pale against the warmth of her skin tone, jagged across her hairline and left temple.

         Her hand, hell’s teeth, her hand was worst of all. Her hand and the drugs and the disconnect between mind and body.

         More on that later.