Post by Emiliana Guadalupe de León on Aug 8, 2010 2:29:53 GMT -5
Emiliana Guadalupe de León
[/b]------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[/center]
"Emi works fine. However, try to call me 'Milo' or 'Chiquita' and I'll have to introduce you to my machete."
I HAVE TO ASK: MALE, FEMALE, OR SOMETHING IN BETWEEN?
"...can't you see for yourself? Ay, pues. Female."
GOOD, I WAS STARTING TO WORRY. NOW, HOW OLD ARE YOU EXACTLY?
"I'll be turning twenty come September 16th. And, uh, I'm a virgo, I suppose. C-Callate! It's not that funny!"
WELL, YOU LOOK YOUNG FOR YOUR AGE. HOW DO YOU STAY IN SHAPE?
"...don't try to flatter me. But, uhm, I really get most of my exercising done by dancing. Folklórico, Latin dance, or even regular "club" dancing - it's all fun, really. "
I WOULD NEVER HAVE CONSIDERED THAT GEORGE CLOONEY MIGHT BE GAY. WHAT ABOUT YOU?
"W-What? C-Cochino! Well, uhm, I-I'm straight? Aish, straight-ish? I-I mean, I won't deny if I find a girl attractive! But...I guess you could say bicurious. But mostly straight. Yeah."
WELL THEN, WHAT DO YOU LIKE TO DO IN YOUR SPARE TIME?
"Aside from dancing? I...marathon telenovelas when I'm alone. But I also enjoy cooking, singing, and I can also play the acoustic guitar. Oh, a-and I may or may not monologue in front of the mirror. I, ahaha, blame the telenovelas... Mm! How could I forget?! I also play fútbol in my spare time. Not soccer, fútbol."
DON'T WORRY, THIS IS ALL CONFIDENTIAL. GO AHEAD, TELL US WHAT YOU ENJOY.
"Se-I mean. As much as I love my alone time, I don't mind going to clubs or parties on the weekends. Well, if I wasn't busy working, of course. Oh! Y la playa! A-Ah, I fucking love going to the beach..."
WHAT ABOUT SOMETHING THAT GETS ON YOUR NERVES?
"Unbearably cold weather, cheap American beer (I mean, I'd probably hate if, you know, I drank - ehehe), people thinking Americanized crap like Taco Bell counts as real Mexican food. Dios, those idiots-!"
I'LL HAVE TO REMEMBER THAT. SO, ARE YOU GOOD AT ANYTHING?
"Being che-Er, pinching pennies. Mira, just because I can afford coming here doesn't mean I mindlessly spend my money. But that aside...like I said, dancing~! I've been dancing to folklórico since I was four, so I think I'm pretty damn good. A-And I can sing? And cooking, haha! I hope you love spicy food because I ain't going any cooler than hot Oh, and I've been called an (unintentional) flirt by some pendejos, but whatever. I'm just friendly - unless I think you're annoying."
THAT'S INTERESTING, NOW WHAT ARE YOU NOT SO GOOD AT?
"Not...swearing. H-Honestly? I tend to swear a lot. But I don't give a damn if you think it's unladylike. Oh, and remembering to go to Church more than...twice a month. I-I'm a good Catholic! I'm just....busy. Oh, and, heh. Declining drinks. Hey, if it's free...? "
I BET I CAN BEAT YOU IN A THUMB WRESTLE AND HOLD MY BREATHE LONGER THAN YOU AT THE SAME TIME.
"Hey, if it gets you to shut up..."
YOU MUST THINK I'M CRAZY. OH WELL, SAY, WHAT KIND OF QUALITIES DO YOU LIKE IN A SPOUSE?
"...are you hitting on me? I'm, uh, kind of short (read: 5'2) so someone that's taller than me is a plus, I think. But that aside, I like someone that's romantic, kind of sensual, a-ah, sweet but still able to defend themselves. Me? I don't need anyone to defend me - I can take care of myself. So, at the same time, I need someone that doesn't try to take my independence away. Oh, but if they can speak Spanish or French, a-ahaha~"
OH, I GUESS I'M NOT YOUR TYPE THEN, EH? WELL, WHAT DO YOU FIND UNATTRACTIVE IN A PERSON?
"W-Wait, what? Er, whatever then. Qualities I don't like, eh? Well, I don't mind talkative people, but I hate when someone is loud, annoying, stuck-up, fake, vain, boisterous, or....yeah, you get the point. "
FINE, BE LIKE THAT. I DON'T LIKE YOU ANYWAYS.
"Aish, me vale madre."
OK, WE'RE GONNA PLAY A GAME. I'M GOING TO ASK SOME SIMPLE QUESTIONS, AND YOUR GOING TO SAY THE FIRST THING THAT COMES TO MIND, OK?
"...this is the weirdest interview I've ever had. What the hell."
FAVORITE FOOD?
"Pozole."
FAVORITE SUBJECT?
"Chicano/Native-American Studies, history, and international relations."
FAVORITE HOLIDAY AND SEASON?
"Día de los Muertos and summer."
FAVORITE WORD?
"Pendejo. Don't give me that look."
FAVORITE TIME OF DAY?
"Dusk."
FAVORITE COLOR?
"Red."
WELL, WASN'T THAT FUN? ON TO THE SERIOUS SHIT. TELL ME A BIT ABOUT YOURSELF.
"I'm, well, I think I'm a pretty nice people. However, if you were to ask the people that have crossed me, pues, they'd probably claim that I'm slightly violent, stubborn, and short-tempered. Which, eh, carries some truth. I'm normally a very patient, loving, and nurturing person - unless I come across someone that just rubs me the wrong way. Ah, I can be a bit of a mother hen, actually. B-But I can't help it! And...[she mumbles the following] I'm a bit superstitious...
[she clears her throat] I, uhm, tend to work too hard sometimes. As in, if I'm really dedicated or busy with something, I tend to give it my all and then-some. And, ha, it's gotten me sick more than once already. However, if I don't get sick, I usually find myself feeling quite exhausted and/or drowsy during the day, so it isn't odd to find me napping. Wherever. [she glances away briefly before looking up] And I like to think that I'm really loyal, too. I mean, I don't mind helping people (regardless of much I may complain) and...well, if I get paid in the process, even better!"
MHMM, AND WHAT ABOUT YOUR FAMILY?
"My parents actually passed away when I was young, so I live with my abuelito back in Mexico. He's a heart surgeon there so we're quite well off, I should think. But that reminds me, I think I have, I don't know, a distant cousin or something here...I think his name is Antonio. I'm not sure."
VERY INTERESTING. SO HOW DID YOU END UP IN THIS COLLEGE?
"I was born in Mexico City but I traveled a lot between north and south Mexico as a kid. But anyway, my abuelito wound up sending me to the States for high school claiming it'd help me perfect my English (you can still hear the accent, though) while also broadening my horizons. If he wanted to do that he could have sent me to France or Germany...but anyway. I wound up winning myself a nice scholarship to this university, so, here I am."
AWESOME. WHAT SORT OF CAREER WILL YOU GO INTO THEN?
"I'm currently thinking of applying for a job as a waitress even though I'm a bit busy with dance and my studies, but I think it'd be an interesting experience. As for an actual career? Er, I'm not sure yet. I was learning Nahuatl from my abuelo back in Mexico and my current double major and minor keep pointing me towards politics, so...who knows? Maybe I'll go into something that'll fix what NAFTA did to Mexico's small farmers. Or, I don't know, help preserve Mexico's indigenous cultures. It's all interesting and tempting, really."
OMGWTFBBQ?!? WELL, LOOK AT THAT. I'VE NEVER SEEN A GENIE ACTUALLY COME OUT OF THE BOTTLE. WHAT ARE YOUR THREE WISHES?
"Oye, are you on drugs or something? Ugh, whatever. I might as well keep playing along.
One, a horse. I used to ride 'em all the time back in Mexico in my uncle's ranch and, well, there's a reason why vaqueros were the original cowboys. [she snaps her fingers]
Two, to never lose my independence. I've had ex-boyfriends and friends that have attempted to take advantage of me and hell no if I'm ever going to let that happen, shit.
Three, l-love. I mean. Uhm. You know what. Forget I said anything."
WOW, WASN'T THAT FASCINATING?
"...yeah, sure."
SO, YOU, UH, WITH ANYBODY AT THE PRESENT MOMENT?
"Uhm, n-no. I've dated before but I'm currently single."
WELL, YOU WANNA GO OUT SOME TIME? WHERE CAN I TAKE YA?
"...but we just met. So this is all, how do you say, hypothetical. I love the beach but dinner and a movie is always nice, too. And...I'm a bit of a thrill seeker, so amusement parks with giant roller coasters are always a plus."
HEY, IF YOUR NOT BUSY FRIDAY...WANNA GO OUT?
"So you were hitting on me? Ay, you're not professional at all.."
ALRIGHT, WHATEVER/COOL. THIS INTERVIEW IS COMING TO AN END. ANYTHING YOU WANT TO TELL US?
"That thing about the machete? Yeah, that's actually true. I use it for dance but, well, I kind of know how to use it for more than just dancing. Oh...and I used to be a bit rebellious as a kid/teenager, so...I was often in a number of fights. Guys, girls, whatever. I don't back down. And just because I'm short and seemingly "delicate" doesn't mean I'm a pushover."
THIS FAKE INTERVIEWER DUDE GUY WILL SELF DESTRUCT IN FIVE SECONDS.
"Not if I stab him with my machete first.."
[/size]
[/ul]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Steph has been trying to escape this doggone planet for almost twenty years, but they've found themselves stuck in the vortex of role playing for one full year. too bad. we could have busted them out if they didn't live all the way in the GMT -8 timezone. you can always reach them at piyopii@aim.com.
ok, well, i'll just take your paperwork and be going:
OOC: This is a sample post from another rp community that I'm in called 'Lolocracy.' It basically takes place after South Mexico (Emi) gets in a bit of a fight with Natalia (Belarus). Also, Jared is the name of the personification of the Iroquois Nation. Please and thank you~
There really was nothing better than waking up from a drug induced sleep to the glare of the same woman that attempted to kill you in broad daylight some three or four days ago.
Emi had been able to hide the intensity of her pain when Jared had stopped by, but as soon as he had left, well, there was no hiding just how much the throbbing in her head had been making her nauseas. Or how every time she shifted her leg, she would instantly want to hiss and double over in agony. That flesh wound on her thigh would have been easier to deal with had Emi not assumed that she could move (read: run away from the nurses) without crutches or a wheelchair. So after she had torn that open (and accidentally yanked out the IV from her arm the night before), she had been threatened, rather severely, to stay put shortly after she was stitched up.
Again.
After another dose of...whatever it was that the hospital was pumping into her, Emi had immediately knocked out. Or maybe she had started slurring the lyrics to some corrido before she fell asleep? Or did she dream that? Again? Regardless, she had woken up drowsily meeting a look of pure and utter malicious contempt.
Apparently, some fucker in the hospital had messed up and wound up transferring the Russian She-Devil Puta to her room. Had there been panic? Oh, yes. The resurrection of an urge to kill? But of course!
But the almost instantaneous death threats and screams of "I'M GOING TO KILL THIS BITCH!" fell on surprisingly deaf ears. Oh, these assholes had certainly done this on purpose...
However, to her sadistic delight, Emi had found the Russian Puta (Natalia, she later learned) tied down to the bed with restraints, looking just has badly beat up as she was. Oh, that had been too hilarious of a discovery. And she would have doubled over in hysterical laughter had she not exhausted herself from struggling against the arms of two male nurses in an attempt to claw her way towards the blond woman. Eventually left alone (after an older woman in hot pink scrubs threatened the psychopath with horse tranquilizers), the two were more or less abandoned to kill one another via threats and death glares while inside the now-too-small hospital room.
That is, until the sounds of someone getting murdered on tv had distracted them.
...now, well, now Emi was translating for Natalia as they both stared intently at the television in front of their beds.
"See that woman with the thin eyebrows and horribly bleached hair? That's actually the person that killed Miguel's mother. Except, he doesn't know that. No, no, no. He thinks she's some poor girl from the pueblo and is apparently in love with her - even though his family's maid, Sofia, is actually in love with him and pregnant with what she thinks is his child from their supposed drunken one night stand inside the barn."
There really was nothing better than waking up from a drug induced sleep to the glare of the same woman that attempted to kill you in broad daylight some three or four days ago.
Emi had been able to hide the intensity of her pain when Jared had stopped by, but as soon as he had left, well, there was no hiding just how much the throbbing in her head had been making her nauseas. Or how every time she shifted her leg, she would instantly want to hiss and double over in agony. That flesh wound on her thigh would have been easier to deal with had Emi not assumed that she could move (read: run away from the nurses) without crutches or a wheelchair. So after she had torn that open (and accidentally yanked out the IV from her arm the night before), she had been threatened, rather severely, to stay put shortly after she was stitched up.
Again.
After another dose of...whatever it was that the hospital was pumping into her, Emi had immediately knocked out. Or maybe she had started slurring the lyrics to some corrido before she fell asleep? Or did she dream that? Again? Regardless, she had woken up drowsily meeting a look of pure and utter malicious contempt.
Apparently, some fucker in the hospital had messed up and wound up transferring the Russian She-Devil Puta to her room. Had there been panic? Oh, yes. The resurrection of an urge to kill? But of course!
But the almost instantaneous death threats and screams of "I'M GOING TO KILL THIS BITCH!" fell on surprisingly deaf ears. Oh, these assholes had certainly done this on purpose...
However, to her sadistic delight, Emi had found the Russian Puta (Natalia, she later learned) tied down to the bed with restraints, looking just has badly beat up as she was. Oh, that had been too hilarious of a discovery. And she would have doubled over in hysterical laughter had she not exhausted herself from struggling against the arms of two male nurses in an attempt to claw her way towards the blond woman. Eventually left alone (after an older woman in hot pink scrubs threatened the psychopath with horse tranquilizers), the two were more or less abandoned to kill one another via threats and death glares while inside the now-too-small hospital room.
That is, until the sounds of someone getting murdered on tv had distracted them.
...now, well, now Emi was translating for Natalia as they both stared intently at the television in front of their beds.
"See that woman with the thin eyebrows and horribly bleached hair? That's actually the person that killed Miguel's mother. Except, he doesn't know that. No, no, no. He thinks she's some poor girl from the pueblo and is apparently in love with her - even though his family's maid, Sofia, is actually in love with him and pregnant with what she thinks is his child from their supposed drunken one night stand inside the barn."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
say hold up, wait a minute. let me put some pimpin' in
it! yep, that's right, this sexy application template was made
by yours truly: CHRISS a.k.a. LENNY GOT LAID ?! @
CAUTION 2.0.
[/right]it! yep, that's right, this sexy application template was made
by yours truly: CHRISS a.k.a. LENNY GOT LAID ?! @
CAUTION 2.0.
