MCCARTHY,ARCADIA PENN

[arcadia]

Arcadia Penn McCarthy.
Twenty ,, Ontario Canada ,, Children of Divorce. Hair Stylist & Make Up Stylist ,, Heterosexual ,, Accepting ,, Alison Sudol
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---How She Got Here--- Cadi Penn McCarthy is twenty years old. She has a thing for color, so she got herself into hair and make-up at a fancy beauty spot. When an extremely popular musician came in for a last minute make-over before a show and Cadi took the challenge it set her high in the books. She got dragged onto a music tour to take care of various artists until one band specifically took her as their own. "Children of Divorce" is what they called themselves and she was associated with them ever since. Arcadia's tatse in music varies widely so the expirience would be killer not to mention she's a phenominal piano player and has pretty good vocal abilities. Maybe she'll get heard some day for her hidden talents.
---personality---"It's been said by a hell of a lot of people that I'm the spitting image of my mother. I can never tell if they're trying to compliment me or if it's some backwards way of suggesting that I'm a fucking loony just like her, right on the road to the same fucked up fate she got, years ago. I'd describe myself in one stupid little alliterated phrase: Medicated and Motivated. I've probably tried every new happy pill on the market. I guess it was the cutting that unhinged my dad about me, really, not to mention my brother Ronan. I used to be a real carver as a teen, I collected scars like furniture collects dust, and that freaked everyone out, got me into therapy and on all these brilliant anti-everything pills, and somehow people think that's the helpful way to go. I got into English at Boston University, at the advice of my therapist, Ridge, who may be a therapist but is a really good person, and I got a job at Clary Sage, doing hair and make up, because beauty makes people happy. I guess I'm trying to live vicariously through that happiness, trying to really see it as something that exists, instead of something I don't ever remember having and everyone around here fakes half the fuckin' time. my best friend keeps me sane most of the time, don't know what I'd do without her; probably give this up, I guess, but I don't want to. I don't want to end up in the ground with mum. I just don't want to be like her. I don't want to be her, I want to be me, and I don't know how to find that. Ya see, I can come off a bit harsh, but the truth is I'm pretty nice. I'm usually good at making friends, I'm good at what I do so I get the usual customers and such and I enjoy a wide variety of things that get me noticed. I'm accepting. It's probably my best quality. I don't judge people for the way they look, the things they say to people other than me, the music they listen to because I myself am a pretty strange duck. You'll never hear me tell someone that they're "not my type" just so I don't have to say they're unattractive. I like people for their personalities, nothing more."
---History---When Arcadia was twelve years old her mother was diagnosed with "Split Personality Disorder", of course the entire family knew it from the start, she sometimes wouldn't know who her children were, she didn't always find her way home after work and while her name was Susanne she insisted on being called Marcy at times. It was an odd childhood. The family had plenty of money and her two sisters fit in the "perfect" category. They were twins, both of which were cheerleaders, wore promise rings from dad and had perfect grades all the way though school. Cadi made decent grades, wAs nice to everyone but had the most responibility out of everyone. She ran the house hold she made sure everything went uphill instead of down, she took care of her mom when things got really rough because while dad supported them financially he did nothing more. See if she had followed orders and did what she was told she'd dress in pink frills and bows,like her sister Abbi, or always like a Librarian...like Tabbi. Yeah the rhyming twin names is stupid.
ANYWAYS. Um.She work as a make up artist so the crafty, creative part of her is pretty strong. She loves experimenting with styles and color to get something original. Her views on love are somewhat depressing but...well. It'd be nice to have, but she doesn't think that's possible, it seems so far fetched, so silly that you could connect with someone on such a level that when your lips touch the world stops spinning. Sounds magical, but as we should know by now...fairy tales don't come true girls. She always has this knack for picking out the worst of the worst to date. Her past three boyfriends have been either druggies, alcoholics, or abusive, so she's skeptical on the whole relationships thing,
People look at her and her siblings and think they're nothing but a bunch of spoiled rich brats, which is unfair and really quite stupid. Cadi really tried to make something of herself, something outside of what her dad gave her, outside of the entire princess racket, the whole assumption that obviously they're rich and privileged and have everything they want. It was true, but Cadi wanted her own money, her own life,She wanted to, I want my life to stand for something other than Daddy's name, and she has succeeded in that, although she didn't go to college.
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^{hey, so i'm Poca. i've been roleplaying for Seven now. as well as this character, i also play -N/A. you can reach me by pm is fine if you need me for anything. i found PERFECT DYSFUNCTION by CAUTION and i'm pretty glad i did. here's an example of mah skillz. (:}

You'd think with all the restrictions she put on Zak's drug addiction she'd be more self aware with her own problem with alcohol. She wasn't a big girl by any means, actually she was pretty tiny. Thin, Curvy, but still short and lacking in extreme muscle. Genevieve had gone out on the town this night and of course with her "I'm such a bad ass I can take care of myself" attitude she went alone. She'd gotten all dressed up in a fancy outfit, wearing a dark leather skirt, a black and lavender corset top that accentuated every curve in her torso. On her feet were a pair of six inch heels, black, shiny and covered with studs.She paired the outfit with little black revolver earrings and thick dark eye lashes, her dark hair in floppy play-boy ringlets that cascaded down her back and on her shoulders. She sported a purple and black smokey eyeshadow and nude lips. The girl looked ridiculously hot, but she also looked a bit wild. Like the type of girl she was, a bit promiscuous and up to no good. Genevieve's mind was no where but on having fun and Zak had disappeared for a while. She left him a note on the counter that simply said "out, I'll be back late." and she left.

She called up a friend and she came to pick her up, taking her to the nearby bar, known for it's spicy Shirley temple and hard vodka. When she arrived the line was a tad long. She had the confidence to walk past the crowd and directly up to the bouncer, he gave her a look, grinned and flagged her in. Vieve ignored the cries from the rather upset females who stood in line waiting their turn patiently and walked in taking a seat at the bar immediately. She was going to start off slow but a guy from down the bar sent her a flirty look and in seconds a drink sat in front of her and the bar tender said "From the guy at the end" She grinned and took a sip of the lime green martini. Sure, not her usual drink but it would suffice for a first go-round. The V shaped glass was empty, probably a little too quickly as the man walked over and took a seat next to her, introducing himself asking her name. No, she wasn't really interested in the guy and she had no intention of bringing him home but if she kept up a flirt for a while she'd probably be able to score a couple more free drinks out of the gullible loser.

The music dropped and she left the guy at the bar to go dance with complete strangers. She enjoyed herself for about thirty minutes before a guy began getting a bit too handsy. She shoved him off of her and when he came back for more she ended up crushing his toes with the end of her heel. Annoyed she headed back to the bar and caught the eye of another gullible man willing to spend his cash just to speak to her. Genevieve wasn't self-centered, she didn't think of herself as all that and a bag of chips but she knew how to work her look, get what she wanted out of most anyone and be on her way. When she'd downed her second fishbowl and in total her seventh drink Vieve was beginning to feel it. She swayed to the music sipping on another free martini and that's when the hands crept to her hips and she nearly yelped. Another ass-hole who thought they could just have their way with her was touching her and she glared roughly.

"Take your hands off of me before there's a problem." he chuckled and looked at her, not taking the young woman seriously in the least, her tugged her off her bar stool and began pulling her to the right nearing the door. When she kneed this one in the crotch he didn't buzz off he just got pissed and got rough. her mega bitch side was bout to show through. It was hard just standing by now as her tipsy state began to bubble. "Get your goddamn hands off of me, I will have absolutely no problem getting you thrown out and getting your fucking ass skinned." She hissed. For such a small girl her words were big and most likely not the safest bet. When he reached for her again she took off into the crowded bar and found a spot on the floor where nobody could see her if she swayed along and danced like she was there on purpose. She whipped out her cell and dialed the numbers she knew by heart diligently onto the keypad and pressed dial setting the phone to her ear.

When Zak picked up there was no possible way he could hear her but the words she managed to say loud enough to comprehend were "bar, drunk, and help" her legs were going wobbly beneath her as the crowd pushed back and forth to the music and she began feeling a bit dizzy. The room spun around her as if she'd gotten on a carousel on speed. She clutched her stomach glaring into the air at the pain that surged through her body. This wasn't fun anymore. A pout formed on her lips and she glared, now she just wanted to go home but she couldn't quite grasp her escape plan and how to keep avoiding the asshole who kept trying to snag her up.

Genevieve dropped her phone and the sound of aloud crunch came next, she grimaced seeing it being squashed into pieces on the flashing ground of the dance floor. She wobbld to the stage and held herself up with one arm. "Shiittt, I'm in troublee." she muttered pulling herself onto the stage without thinking, she snagged the microphone from the man singing and slurred into it. "Has anybodyy seehe- I mean, has anybod-ee seen mah frieeind? I need to go homee." The singer snatched back the microphone and two men took her arms dragging her back down the steps. One of them took her to the pool area and sat her down on one of the booths and demanded that she stay put. Her hazel eyes scanned his face and she pouted when her brain connected with the fact that this man was not Zak Fox. She crossed her arms and shook her head. "how do I get homee..." now she was talking to herself and probably looked pretty weird. She folded her arms and curled up on the bench and before too long she was out cold. ".

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