Post by clover on Nov 27, 2009 23:16:52 GMT -5
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I THINK I'M LOST IN THE LETTERS.[/font]
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[/b], but you can call me clove, clo, or kitty. my birthday's march fourteenth, nineteen ninety-one, so if you're too lazy to do the math, that means I'm 17 years old right now. currently, i am a junior at Newport high. you will find me hanging out with the artistic kids. I'm also a female, in case you couldn't tell. oh! and I'm also Japanese, and if you can live with that, I'm sure we'll be great friends."[/size][/center][/blockquote][/ul]
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WHEN HER REPLY MEANT EVERYTHING.[/font] [/blockquote][/ul][/center]
"You look really familiar! Have I seen you before?"[/font][/color]
"No, I'm new here. Though I'm sure I've seen you somewhere before ! I'm not only different from everyone by being Japanese, but I probably have one of the smallest waists around, measuring only around 21-inches. Though everything about me is small, being only 5'0 and 97 pounds ! Ha, my brother always made fun of me. Though the things i like the most is my hair even if it is thin, and my eyes, almond-shaped and placed within a heart-shaped face ! So sweet ! Though I am a person all my own, some people say I look like asami abe
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"So, what do you like?"[/font][/color]
"Listing everything I like would be hard, but I guess I can try. bangles, bagels, music, stripping, oreos, spicy foods, art, vintage clothing, school, modeling, smoking, her cat, Cheshire, old cheesy horror films, star bucks double shot, and well - did i mention stripping?"[/font]
"And the things you could live without? What about them?"[/font][/color]
"Mmmmm, most defiantly dogs. but I'm more scared of them than anything and probably a few of these things: splattering oil, rap music, my mother, my real name, pushy guys, fast food, being stereotyped, soda, and people who aren't themselves."[/font]
"And what are the things you just can't stand?"[/font][/color]
"Though this sounds discriminating, stupid people. I simply cannot talk to an unintelligent person and be happy. I mean, how can some people walk around so blind in the world? I would simply die if I wasn't so cultured as I am now. Having to repeat myself is another pet peeve of mine, more because if we're having a conversation you should be listening and i shouldn't have to repeat myself. obviously it wasn't important to you if you didn't hear me the first time. but if you have trouble hearing, don't ever think you cant tell me !"[/font]
"Do you have any bad habits? What about good ones?"[/font][/color]
"I sigh alot when I get frustrated or flustered in a situation, or when I'm trying to sort through a tough situation. I also often tap my nails when I'm bored and if I feel ignored, Ill usually turn on my ipod and sing - probably loud enough to disrupt the other person. I also find it funny to speak Japanese and French when in awkward situations, since a situation is only awkward when you make it awkward, I love to intensify the experience by speaking anything but English. I also talk to myself. Though the two weirdest habits would have to be my eating habits. For one, I have to rip the crust off of everything that looks to have a crust, and eat absolutely every food with sweet and sour sauce. my own little addiction."
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"Oh, really? Well, how about the secrets?"[/font][/color]
"Well I guess my biggest secret is that I'm an exotic dancer. Which doesn't sound bad because I know alot of girls do it, but my brother and mother would be ashamed of me if they ever heard their little girl had come all the way to America just to act like an American whore. no offense of course, but I'm suppose to be a top end model - not someone's play toy. though it's a thrill to me, and i feel alive when i dance. so i have to keep doing it, it's almost as bad for me as smoking."[/font]
"And the fears?"[/font][/color]
"Oh wow, dogs. Only because I was attacked by one one time in the marketplace of Yokohama. Since then, I have been more of a cat person. Though I bear no scars from the stray dog, it still scarred me mentally. My fear of spitting oil is irrational, but I have a panic attack whenever I could with oil, so I tend to avoid it."
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"Do you have any special talents?"[/font][/color]
"Since I am double-jointed in my toes, I can do the wave with them."[/font]
"And last but not least, what's your relationship status/history?"[/font][/color]
"Currently I'm single and looking. Whatever happens, happens, and I'm just waiting for my prince charming. Back when I was fifteen I had an engagement back in Yokohama to a boy, though he canceled the marriage and humiliated my family. I gave him oral, though it was a mistake and I live with the burden everyday. But right now, I'm just having fun, hooking up once and awhile"[/font]
call me up to confess
THAT IT'S ME YOU THINK ABOUT.[/ul][/center][/size][/b]"Where were you born?"[/font][/color]
"Yokohama, Japan. I love it there, Japan in general. I used to model in Tokyo and my brother is in an apprenticeship in Hiroshima at the moment. I would have stayed there if I could, to help my mother around the house and to see my brother more often but I need to hold up my mother in retirement so I came to America to fulfill my end of the bargain by getting a degree in Law. Then I will return to Yokohama and probably work in the same office as Hiraku."[/font]
"And what's up with your family?"[/font][/color]
"My brother is the one who keeps me going. He has always promoted my coming to America and generally anything that my little heart desired. He actually flew me over here, but had to go when he got me situated here. He is my biggest support system and I couldn't image life without him.
My mother and I aren't speaking for the moment. She disapproves of me coming to America thinking I will ruin myself. Though I have done somewhat of what she warned me about, she isn't all right, and I am hoping to prove her wrong when I return with my degree back to Yokohama.
My father is deceased. He died merely a year ago and since then Hiraku has stepped up and become the man of the household. Since mother is no longer employed, she counts on him to held her live comfortable.I miss him terribly, and wear a pendent with his name written in Japanese around my neck for good luck
We don't have any pets, though when I became situated here, I did happen to get a Maine coon cat I named Cheshire. He is the love of my life at the moment, and brings endless joy to my life."[/font]
"Now, tell me your story."[/font][/color]
Born into a middle class family in Yokohama, Japan - Michiko had it well enough made that she could live comfortably and without worry of having to live in poverty. She grew up under the watchful eye of her older brother, Hiraku and prospered in the household of loving family members and a good variety of pets. Hiraku was the true animal lover, but Michiko always held a deep appreciation for cats in general. Growing up wasn't hard, though her schooling was constant until high school where she went sparsely, though she was an average student, she worked hard to bring home good grades and make her parents proud.
Things went askew when her father's health deteriorated when she was 17. From his years of hard labor, his heart had been worn thing and finally gave out on January 18th, 2007 with his wife and two teenage children faithfully by his side. Stricken by grief, the family had little time for mourning as Michiko and her brother were forced to look for work in their city. Though Hiraku continued with his intense schoolwork and soon began his attorney apprenticeship in Hiroshima, Michiko was left with a will to help her family. Alone and scared when her brother left, she was founded one day by a man when she was walking down the street. Passing the shop where she found her destiny.
She had always been called beautiful by family members, though she hardly payed attention to the young men she encountered. They were immature and had raging hormones, and found even the ugliest girls the prettiest they have ever seen. Though she was passing the modeling agency Axelle on a trip to Tokyo that she had come to look for work in. Stopped by a stranger, she was asked to come in and experience the feel of the scene and was soon offered a contract that payed a handsome enough sum that she could support her family again. Cheerful, she accepted.
Though Michiko was never happy, at least fully. The paycheck pleased her, but the superficial manners of the other girls shocked her and appalled her to no end. Constantly becoming picked apart by the other models, the shy introverted girl soon became even quieter than before. Her mother noticed, and urged her to give up the modeling project to go pursue her dream. Being a lawyer had been a faraway dream, and the only reason she followed through with quiting the modeling was because her mother assured her Hiraku was making enough to support her in her old age. So with a hopeful heart, and a little money her father had left her, Michiko left Japan and entered the United States.
Hiraku had come with her, but wouldn't stay with her. He had to continue his apprenticeship in Hiroshima and he knew well enough that his baby sister could handle herself. Though abit insecure, she agreed and watched him with tearful eyes retreat from the terminal and board the plane home. So after landing in Huntington Beach, California - she quickly enrolled in school, got her green card, changed her name to clover, and shed the old person she was at home. her she could be everything she wanted - everything she needed. but first things first,
she needed a house.
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I NEED YOU HERE WITH ME.[/ul][/center][/size][/b]
"So, here's the deal. My name is
tay and
I've been role playing for four years. Plus, I'm 15
years young, and I found you guys
from an advertisement oh, and the secret code is mediocre"
Her hands tapped the wheel of the Toyota Tacoma. The stereo was blaring at her at level fifty-two, and she wasn't going to turn it down anytime soon. Yes, she was upset. Upset about her exams and wondering if she had even passed the final report. Hiraku would shoot me... Sighing in exasperation, Clover merely continued to shift her gaze between her side window and the street rushing past in front of her. She knew exactly where she could be mindless and let it all go, literally. She was headed there right now, and with each ticking mile and stoplight she encountered the more relief began to sooth her mind. Though the skillet blaring in her ears also helped to deafen most things up, her heart soon began to beat in time with the heavy music as the sign to the club came into sight and her edginess completely wore off as she parked the electric blue vehicle, grabbed her duffel, and walked inside.
Normally this place would be alive; humming to its own beat and creating magic that many wouldn't know about. She had seen some things in here that had truly made it seem like the club had mystic powers - but at this moment, it was simply a desolate building. Clover had a habit of coming early to work, so she simply allowed herself in and switched on the lights. The aroma of alcohol, sweat, and sex mingled in her nostrils as she continued through the labyrinth of chair-holding tabletops. The desolation was almost eerie and she fought back a chill that prickled the flesh of her neck, making the peach fuzz erect in full sensory mode to her fear. Chuckling nervously in the silence, she threw her duffel bag on the ground and began to fish inside the vinyl for her uniform for the night.
How she had gotten this job was a mystery in itself, though she knew the owner and manager adorned her with a passion. Maybe because being Asian seemed to be a big thing around here? Who knew there could be such a large Asian fetish controlling Vancouver? She smirked in spite of herself as she removed her suede bomber jacket, following her black tank top, her skinny jeans, and studded heels. The cool air nipped at her porcelain flesh and caused a ripple of gooseflesh to cover the smooth surface. Even though she was cold now, Clove knew she would be sweating in a matter of hours. Laying out the holiday outfit she had chosen for today's festivities, Clover thumbed the spandex and lace material with almost an look of depression shrouding her face. It was an horrid addiction, this disgraceful way of dancing. Though she knew every time she had found her niche whenever she stood on stage, whenever the microphone was hers, and eyes adverted to her and her only.
Within an hour she had wiggled into lace peppermint striped panties with a matching bra, white thigh-highs, and a frilly garter. The blackness of her eyes popped against the deep redness of her lips and eyes as she applied make-up in the mirror with the rest of the strippers in the wardrobe room. Giggling and laughing ever so often at their jokes about their weight, or how they tripped and fell in their seven inch heels. Which painfully reminded her that she had to place on her feet soon enough. That must had been the most unfortunate deal with the whole thing, was wearing those damn heels. Though they did accent her petite frame, but when you looked like she did, and wore something as skimpy as she was currently wearing. It was hard not to admire.
Having her heart jump into her throat, Clover adjusted her feet in the clunky shoes, tightened her choker, and threw her hair up into a messy up do that for some reason - men found attractive. Plastering a fake smile on her face, Clover entered the line onto where the strippers would exit wardrobe and go to their needed stages. She would pose for when the doors would open for the night shift, and she would dance her heart out. She would dance to eat tonight, and she would dance because she needed to. It was her outlet, almost as much as music is - though not quite. And as the techno music began, and the lights dimmed, Clover was in her element. Welcome to paradise baby...
Normally this place would be alive; humming to its own beat and creating magic that many wouldn't know about. She had seen some things in here that had truly made it seem like the club had mystic powers - but at this moment, it was simply a desolate building. Clover had a habit of coming early to work, so she simply allowed herself in and switched on the lights. The aroma of alcohol, sweat, and sex mingled in her nostrils as she continued through the labyrinth of chair-holding tabletops. The desolation was almost eerie and she fought back a chill that prickled the flesh of her neck, making the peach fuzz erect in full sensory mode to her fear. Chuckling nervously in the silence, she threw her duffel bag on the ground and began to fish inside the vinyl for her uniform for the night.
How she had gotten this job was a mystery in itself, though she knew the owner and manager adorned her with a passion. Maybe because being Asian seemed to be a big thing around here? Who knew there could be such a large Asian fetish controlling Vancouver? She smirked in spite of herself as she removed her suede bomber jacket, following her black tank top, her skinny jeans, and studded heels. The cool air nipped at her porcelain flesh and caused a ripple of gooseflesh to cover the smooth surface. Even though she was cold now, Clove knew she would be sweating in a matter of hours. Laying out the holiday outfit she had chosen for today's festivities, Clover thumbed the spandex and lace material with almost an look of depression shrouding her face. It was an horrid addiction, this disgraceful way of dancing. Though she knew every time she had found her niche whenever she stood on stage, whenever the microphone was hers, and eyes adverted to her and her only.
Within an hour she had wiggled into lace peppermint striped panties with a matching bra, white thigh-highs, and a frilly garter. The blackness of her eyes popped against the deep redness of her lips and eyes as she applied make-up in the mirror with the rest of the strippers in the wardrobe room. Giggling and laughing ever so often at their jokes about their weight, or how they tripped and fell in their seven inch heels. Which painfully reminded her that she had to place on her feet soon enough. That must had been the most unfortunate deal with the whole thing, was wearing those damn heels. Though they did accent her petite frame, but when you looked like she did, and wore something as skimpy as she was currently wearing. It was hard not to admire.
Having her heart jump into her throat, Clover adjusted her feet in the clunky shoes, tightened her choker, and threw her hair up into a messy up do that for some reason - men found attractive. Plastering a fake smile on her face, Clover entered the line onto where the strippers would exit wardrobe and go to their needed stages. She would pose for when the doors would open for the night shift, and she would dance her heart out. She would dance to eat tonight, and she would dance because she needed to. It was her outlet, almost as much as music is - though not quite. And as the techno music began, and the lights dimmed, Clover was in her element. Welcome to paradise baby...
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