VAN DEAUX, carmit alessandra

[carmit alessandra van deaux]

carmitalessandravandeaux

took the light from off my heart shook the street from off my shoe
set emotions in his way said 'hey baby, be back soon'
while the music held you tight you didn't even see me cry

---

basics,

• full name;Carmit Alessandra Van Deaux (car-mee van-doe)
  
• nickname(s);Mimi
  
• year;sophmore
  
• age;22

aesthetics,

• play byMegan Fox
  
• tattoo(s);She has a line from Shakespeare's 'King Lear' tattooed on her right shoulder, 'We will all laugh at gilded butterflies'. She also has a poem on her left rib cage, a crescent moon and five pointed star on the inside of her right ankle and two waves in a 'yin-yang' style on the inside of her left wrist.
  
• height;5'6
  
• weight;120lbs

cognition,

• personality;If you were to watch Carmit in a social climate, the first thing you would notice is that she is not loud. She commands the attention of those she is speaking with, but her motions or level of speech do not scream 'look at me, be interested in me.' The female isn't shy, but she doesn't like to be put under the spotlight unnecessarily, and prefers to be the centre of attention for one person, rather than steal the limelight in a room full of people. She doesn't like everything she says to be heard in exact certainty by a lot of people, but prefers to keep them guessing, conjuring an air of mystery. The Literature major can come off as quite aloof when speaking to people, her words often slightly confusing as far as understanding to what she is referring. It is partially her superior command of the English language which helps her achieve this cliff-hanger conversation style, partially her desire to keep some things private, keep people guessing. Her voice is naturally low, obviously not so much as to make her sound masculine, but it has a rich, gravelly quality to it which is sometimes hard to hear, especially around loud music, where it tends to get lost in the bass. This mezzo tone often creates the illusion of a quieter voice, thus making her seem more elusive.
  
  As far as people are concerned, she tends to vary greatly. Depending upon her mood, she can be laid-back and conversational, or up-front and aggressive. The manner in which she speaks to people who she doesn't know well greatly depends on her own mood, whereas those she knows more in depth are only sometimes tainted by how she feels. Miss Van Deaux doesn't believe in liking or disliking people based on rumours or opinions of others. Having said that, she won't go campaigning against you if you don't like someone you don't know, she doesn't care. However, she just remains indifferent until she forms an opinion on them. The interests and personalities of the people she likes are all so different, it is near impossible for Carmit to classify the types of people she gets on with. Some people hit, some miss. It could be something as small as their voice irritates her which can lead her to avoid someone, she won't persevere or pretend to like them, she will simply ignore them, possibly give them grief if they push her buttons too much. She isn't very sensitive to those with 'normal' feelings, those who would possibly get upset at the thought of being ignored or shunned, but Carmit is a strange breed.
  
  Extraordinarily thick-skinned and nonchalant, things that often eat away at lesser beings won't penetrate her outer shell. A glancing remark or dislike from someone barely even enters her thought process, it just doesn't bother her. She doesn't respond to any sort of cajoling, be it her tutor reminding her of an impending dead-line, or her mother threatening to ground her when she was thirteen. She never learns, something can cause her so much discomfort or put her out, but if it is harder to avoid it than do nothing in the mean time, she will just ignore it, even knowing what is coming. Her lax attitude and sometimes ignorance of responsibility or how she affects others can often lead to the irritation of her peers. Her responses often show a lack of interest, just to protect herself, or to make her life simpler. She would sooner avoid a deeply emotional conversation, even if her feelings should really be vocalised, just to save herself from any hurt. It would seem that by trying to make her life easier, she often over-complicates it in the long run, but the junior has a knack for pushing any unwanted feelings away from the for front of her mind, and suppressing them somewhere in the easily forgotten recesses of her brain. In some ways, she emotionally immature, as dealing with more profound emotions can make her uneasy and anxious.
  
  On rare occasions, she will be forced to concentrate on how she feels, rather then ignore, which is alien to her. It is in these situations that she can become vulnerable and suspicious, and show colours of her older brother.On the subject of emotions, Carmit is very secretive. She deigns sharing feelings as a sign of weakness, a vulnerability to be played on, and not something she does. Crying into her pillow doesn't make her feel better about anything, nor does spilling her heart out to a girlfriend. She hates the whole movie culture of eating ice cream, watching romantic comedies and getting a hideously ugly break-up hair cut. She can be incredibly unsympathetic to more sensitive people, but its not that she doesn't have the same feelings, she just has a knack of pushing them to the back of her mind and ignoring them.
  
  Carmit may seem arrogant to a few people, but its not without cause. Unlike some bimbo mean-girl, with more money than sense, Mimi doesn't put herself above than people for no reason. Well, she doesn't put herself above other people at all, but if she did, she would have good cause; she is incredibly smart. The twenty-two year old is knowledgeable on a great deal of things, her way with words exquisite and her mathematics skills great. She lends herself to most subjects with great precision and understanding, although Literature is her greatest ability. Carmit is a fast learner, with a dry, quick, sarcastic wit, only heightened by her extensive vocabulary. She would often correct her teachers in high school, and although they reprimanded her for it, they knew she was right. Miss Van Deaux reads a lot, a large bookshelf taking pride of place in her room, bowing under the heavy weight of pages. She loves literature, anything from Jane Austen to Stephenie Meyer, she adores the imagery and stories, they seem fantastically intricate to her, a lot less irritating than most people, too.
  
• major;Literature
  
• minor;Music - Vocal
  

filing,

• history;Carmit was born in London's Harrow, to a peculiar clash of artistic and business, frivolity and seriousness, father and mother. Her father was a TV presenter, an enchanting man with an undeniable humour and quick wit. It was from him Carmit inherited her quick mind, her ability to insult and make jokes at lightning speed, to crack up a room or silence it in an instant. Unlike Carmit, he was warm, open man, at ease with his emotions. His name was Ewan Van Deaux. He appeared on select shows, aimed at the erupting cult of trendsters all over Britain. He dressed eclectically, like a male version of his daughter, although slightly toned down. His attire was typical of the generation he was marketed at, he was young, and so it fitted him well. Trilbies, cigarette trousers, polo shirts, they all looked at home on him, with his tangle of wild-but-tamed dark bronze hair, he resembled an accomplished ladies man, but acted like a playful child.
  
  Carmit's mother gave her personality to her child. She was super model Cessi Biele, a very English woman with French parents. She was pin thin, with a figure to die for and legs that went on for miles. Her clothing was always impeccable, very biker chic with a high fashion edge, black was her usual colour of choice, and it looked striking against her blonde hair and dusky tan. She was always pictured looking sultry and sombre, with smoldering eyes and a killer outfit. Although hugely successful and intelligent, she was cold and aggressive. She didn't do 'fans', even though her following was astronomical, she never directed anything at her fan base. It was said that she only ever blossomed when around Ewan, who brought her out laughing and smiling.
  
  Carmit was very intelligent, even from an early age, she was given more spellings to learn with harder words than others in her class, and things of that nature. She never hid the fact that she was gifted, and would correct anyone if they were wrong, no matter who it was, which often got her into trouble. At the age of 17, she considered her options, selecting the subject which she most excelled in, and one that she achieved equally well in, but did not want to pursue as a career. Her first choice was Literature; her major. Her minor came in the form of Vocal. She applied to a number of universities, and although she only acted marginally pleased, was elated when she received a letter of acceptance from The Royal University of London. She chose to attend that establishment, moving not far to the student accommodation in the Belgravia grounds of the university.
  
  
• relatives in play,An older brother in his senior year.
  

puppet strings,

• name/alias;Torii
  
• other characters;None as of yet
  
• role play sample;
  From a city RPG, word count:726
  Her gaze slipped from the wine, wondering down to her attire, the fairly expensive black dress, the shoes that she knew would cripple her if she walked to far, but looked good. A small smile tempted the corners of her lips, eyes drifting back upward. Inwardly, she complimented herself on the dress, having nabbed the last one in little 'Cricket' boutique she liked to frequent during her trips to London. She did look nice, the garment hugging her figure just right, the toned down colour palette in keeping with the sophisticated style of the restaurant. Instantaneously, her small smile dropped away, a frown furrowing her brow and pursing her lips. She was dressed in such a way because the location called for it, it was an expensive restaurant, and it required a certain level of respect in the form of beautiful attire. Erik most likely would not see it this way, but rather as an attempt to impress him. He seemed to take aggression as a form of flirting, a signal of interest, he could probably twist her outfit into the same thing, as well.
  
  A soft thud did nothing to alert her, to grab her attention, just simply mixed in with the bustle of the bar tender, and the din of conversation. “You would be surprised the naughty things people were texting you.” She inhaled sharply, every muscle and sinew tensing, as usual. For such an aggressive person, she really was pretty easily startled. Her left arm closed protectively over her ribs. Of course, she didn't think she was being attacked or anything, she knew exactly who it was, it was just something she did. Very slowly, very deliberately, she turned, her head the last to turn, gaze locking with his momentarily, then dropped to the phone. "Would I?" she replied with mock interest. Her free hand crept along the counter, turning the phone over and pressing the combination to unlock the keypad. Nothing. She pressed again but no picture came. "What the hell did you do to my phone?" she hissed, pronouncing her words slowly and clearly to compensate for the low, quiet tone of her voice. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling, exhaling slowly and counting to ten...
  
  She only got to five. "Are you mentally unhinged? I needed the stuff on there. It had important things that I..." she stopped, not even bothering to carry on the conversation. Did she really expect any less? He had already stolen her shopping, then her phone, threatened to follow her home and responded to her shutting him down by asking her out on a date to this place. Which, she reminded herself, she had only shown up to on the realisation that he had nabbed her phone from her pocket. She glanced at his attire for a nano-second out of the corner of her eye. Shaking her head a little, eyes returned to their spot on the ceiling. He looked nice, it wasn't that, hell, she would admit he was a great looking guy, it was just that he had stumbled upon her in a particularly bad mood. Even putting aside the phone stealing, the stalking threats and keeping her standing in the dairy isle for longer than really necessary, she still probably would have decided she didn't like him. She had a habit of doing that, she could meet the nicest person, but if she was in a bad mood, she would find things wrong with them, and would probably think those things for a good while.
  
  At that moment, the young man from earlier approached, smiling apologetically at having interrupted their currently non-existent exchange. "Sir? Miss? Your table is now ready, if you would want to follow me please?" Her frown melted away, a light smile replacing it as she turned to look at the young man. His smile grew, sensing her former bad mood, and he stepped to the side a little to allow to her to get up easily. Not that she needed it. She stood, turning to the direction of the young man in one fluid movement. Her long hair grazing her exposed shoulder blades, bag clutched securely under her arm, she didn't even bother to glance back to see if Erik would be joining her at dinner. Her anger still lingering about her phone being apparently devoid of working order.
  
• how did you find us?;It's my site!