Post by nayaherrera on Jun 26, 2012 12:37:34 GMT -5
NAYA DE LUCA
full name naya valerie de luca
nicknames ny, val, de luca
type original
gender female
age
birthday september 7th
group popular
clique cheerleader
grade senior.
sexuality straight.
occupation n/a.
face claim naya rivera
alias jess
persona
untrusting, unattached, closed off, bitchy, cold, sarcastic, funny, impatient, intelligent, manipulating, quick minded, witty, snappy, secretly a little insecure, seemingly self-absorbed, careless, wild.
life
Hi, my name is Naya De Luca. So I guess I have to tell you my life story now, right? Well, I'm eighteen years old and I was born on September 7th, 1994. I was born in Miami, Florida. I'm a bit of a mix nationality wise. My mom is half Cuban, half Dominican and my dad is full Puerto Rican, which explains why I'm not the typical light skinned, light haired girl. I am the child of the holy trinity that are those three similar islands. I am fully fluent in Spanish and English and I was raised with completely Cuban/Dominican/Puerto Rican customs and traditions. People find that really interesting, especially the white folk, as I call them. Anyways, I'm the middle child. I have an older brother named Jace and he's 20 years old. I also have a younger sister named Maya, who's 17. Yeah, we're all pretty close in age, and my sister and I are often confused for twins. We're definitely not.
Anyways, about my personality... Well, I think I'm pretty damn great. I keep it real twenty-four seven and if you don't like it, then that's just too bad. Maybe you should just excuse yourself for the rest of your life and hide under a rock so as to avoid brutally honest people like me. I am who I am, and I don't really care about what people say or think about me. But just because I don't care what about they say doesn't mean I don't know that they talk; I'm not completely oblivious. Ask around about me. You'll hear that I'm a bitch, I'm self conceited, and maybe even that I'm not the classiest girl out there. To put it plainly, people say that I'm a whore. That's cool. They don't know me, or my life, or what I'm thinking. I'm not a trusting person, so I don't really have "best friends", just friends. I like to keep my distance from people.
Going back to my family, there's something you should probably know; we don't get along. At least my parents and I don't. We used to... don't know what happened. They don't get into my business, and I don't get into theirs. My brother and I get along sometimes. He's just overly protective, and I absolutely hate it. I'm eighteen years old, not fourteen. My sister and I have a love-hate thing going on. She tries to be my carbon copy, but she just doesn't have the guts to live the way that I do. She really needs to learn that just because our names and faces are similar doesn't mean we're cut from the same cloth. She's a huge softy. Pretty innocent, too. She doesn't have guts. Spineless, if you ask me.
So there you have it. Some insight as to who Naya Valerie De Luca is.
roleplaying sample
Tick tock
Tick tock
Tick tock
Mornings were the worst. Her eyes darted around her room.
Her black oak vanity. Her mirror decorated with random pictures and sticky notes reminding her to do the things she knew she wouldn’t do anyways, despite her reminders. Her tall lamp, which had burned out all the bulbs she put into it. She’d given up on that one. Her desk in complete disarray, as always. Those piles of clothes she had meant to put away two weeks ago, but had never gotten around to it. I should do something about that, she thought.
She probably wouldn’t.
Her dark eyes flickered around once more. Curtains, closet, red walls, shoes kicked off carelessly by her bedroom door. Her room was a mess. Someone had once told her that your room and its cleanliness was a reflection of your personality. Organized meant a responsible, careful person. Disarray meant chaotic, careless… perhaps that person felt disarray not only in something as simple as their bedroom, but in their life as well.
Well, that was pretty spot on. She didn’t care, though. That’s the problem, though, a little voice would say ever so often. You just don’t care about anything, it said. She was always quick to silence that little inkling of truthfulness. She sat up in bed and swung her legs over the side of her bed. People always said that mornings were awful, it was a common thing to say.
“Oh, I hate waking up in the morning!”
“I’m not a morning person at all.”
But no one really meant it as much as Naya. She hated mornings because despite the fact that she had a reputation for not caring, she did. She hated the fact that she did, but she couldn’t lie to herself. She had worries, doubts, and problems just like everyone else. She just pretended not to. The mornings would always bring those problems back to her in waves; she could never think of one thing at a time, and maybe that was why she could never solve her issues. She didn’t know how to be level headed.
She thrust open her closet doors and started to dress. Skinny jeans, white button down Hollister shirt, her Sperry’s. Getting dressed was a challenge for her. Why can’t I just sleep?
No sleep. Time for hair and make-up. Straightened hair, eyeliner, mascara, and blush. Whatever.
other characters
N/A
