Post by erika gersten on Jun 10, 2015 16:05:31 GMT -5
[nospaces]
[attr="class","appbg"]
[attr="class","appn"]erika gersten
[attr="class","appc"]age 27
[attr="class","appc"]group commoner
[attr="class","appc"]sex female
[attr="class","appc"]occupation info. broker
[attr="class","appp"]
your back-story just isn't that compelling. your parents are still alive, yes, they lament about losing your older sister but you don't; she was three, you weren't even an embryo. besides, what's there to miss? all that shit about comparing her cheeks to cut strawberries is nonsense; she was probably an ugly, wrinkly toddler with dalmatian freckles and crooked teeth. but that's digressing. [break][break]
ah, what else? you've trained 'officially' to handle flour and sweet stuff since sixteen, but you're pretty sure you were born in the stuff. your parents had a family business, a little patisserie at the crossroads until you sold it for them to pay for their senile adventures at a very run down, very nondescript nursing home. you decide to visit every leap month; it's an excuse, you swear you're done with all that sentimental crap. you have people to see, a bucket list of boyfriends to dent... and the list goes on. [break][break]
on paper you're a patissiere for a small cafe, hidden in a smog of back streets but still somehow manages to retain some kind of cult following. experience and a man made gift makes your desserts more desirable than most, but the cafe is a weary front for bigger fish. the owner is a begrudging 'companion'; sweets and drinks are not all that you sell. [break][break]
[attr="class","appi"]
your back-story just isn't that compelling. your parents are still alive, yes, they lament about losing your older sister but you don't; she was three, you weren't even an embryo. besides, what's there to miss? all that shit about comparing her cheeks to cut strawberries is nonsense; she was probably an ugly, wrinkly toddler with dalmatian freckles and crooked teeth. but that's digressing. [break][break]
ah, what else? you've trained 'officially' to handle flour and sweet stuff since sixteen, but you're pretty sure you were born in the stuff. your parents had a family business, a little patisserie at the crossroads until you sold it for them to pay for their senile adventures at a very run down, very nondescript nursing home. you decide to visit every leap month; it's an excuse, you swear you're done with all that sentimental crap. you have people to see, a bucket list of boyfriends to dent... and the list goes on. [break][break]
on paper you're a patissiere for a small cafe, hidden in a smog of back streets but still somehow manages to retain some kind of cult following. experience and a man made gift makes your desserts more desirable than most, but the cafe is a weary front for bigger fish. the owner is a begrudging 'companion'; sweets and drinks are not all that you sell. [break][break]
[attr="class","appd"]
n/a[break][break]
[attr="class","apph2"]
n/a[break][break]
[attr="class","appf"]
played by: boob [break]
face claim: [b]one piece,[/b] [i]perona[/i] - erika gersten
[attr="class","apph2"]
played by: boob [break]
face claim: [b]one piece,[/b] [i]perona[/i] - erika gersten
