HUNT, foxe arabella ♠

[arabella hunt ♠]

BEHIND THE SCENES!

[/u]

all about you.

Name:
Taylor. But, honestly, I'd answer to almost anything.
RPing experience:
I honestly can't remember, but it's been quite a long time.

Rules Word::
fluffy bunnies (so cute!)

ON THE STAGE![/u]


all about them.[/u]

Name:
Foxe Arabella Hunt (though she goes by Arabella in public)Age:
Fourteen (soon to turn fifteen!)
Job:
Unemployed (except for occasional babysitting)
Gender:
Female
Grade:
Freshman
Clique:
In between Geeks and Musicians. (She'd probably be a jock or prep if she weren't so teriffied of females of that sort at the moment)

appearance.

eyes:
Brown
hair:
Brunette, usually wavy (unless she makes the effort to straighten it)
body type:
We'll say this kindly: developed.
skin tone:
Tan (though she prefers bronze)
picture:

celebrity:
Alessandra Ambrosio


general appearence:

We’ll start from the inside out.

Arabella stands at five-foot, seven-and-a-half-inches, a moderately tall height for a girl. Her bone structure is not that of, well, a ballerina, small and fragile, as if she would shatter if she fell. On the other hand, the young woman’s shoulders and hips are broad and her bones thicker than those of the breakable ballerina. Her muscles aren’t equivalent to that of a male body builder, but they are decently noticeable; she can lift objects of considerable weight with reasonable amounts of effort. Due to random fits of sprinting and footraces, Arabella’s calves and thighs are more toned than, say, her arms. Her skin has darkened even more over the years, now a bronze tan. She prefers a true glow to that of the sickly orange spray-tans, so she spends a few days every summer outside with a book and sunscreen (SPF thirty, for her mother could possibly have a heart attack if ickle Arabella got sun burned, God forbid).

Her face is rather pretty, though she’d probably never realize it, nor would she admit it. Her skin isn’t perfect, but there’s make-up for that, and, of course, routine face-washing. Her lips, almost always pampered in some sort of “hydrating” lip gloss or another of the sort, are pleasantly plump, as one of her friends described them, not ridiculously full nor almost invisible. Her hair is naturally curly, but the color, cut, and style are subject to quite a bit of change (her hair goes with her mood, if you want to put it that way). She has a nose, but that’s about how much of importance it is to her. It sits comfortably in the middle of her face, a dainty little addition to her features. She wouldn’t call it a “cute, button nose,” but she doesn’t dislike it. It’s just… there. On the other hand, Arabella cares about her eyes, in all of their honey-brown glory. Miss Hunt prefers them to, well, pretty much anything else God, or genetics, gave her. Of all the make-up, she majority of her spending is toward the dozens of mascaras, eyeliners, and eye shadows. Some people send money to small third-world countries; others spend the same amount and buy mascara.

Her body from the neck down is one that she’d rather not discuss, as it is a touchy subject for most teenage females (at least, this one). Her neck is a decent length; her head doesn’t sit on her shoulders, nor could anyone rightfully call her a giraffe. Arabella’s shoulders, though a bit broad for a girl, are lightly freckled from countless days, months, and years of being outside in a tank top or sleeveless shirt of some sort. Her body has developed over the years (though it seemed to get a head start at an early age), giving her a noticeably, but not ridiculously, feminine silhouette. Her midsection isn’t “ripped” as some of her other classmates, but she doesn‘t think a six-pack would suit her. Her legs are thicker than some, getting a few “thunder thighs” calls from a few catty girls, but, once again, she likes it that way. She prefers muscle to skin and bones.

Arabella likes clothes. It’s, well, a known fact. The actual shopping might not be as fun, depending on your company (if there is any), but clothes are fun. Usually, you can find her in jeans or shorts and some cutesy top, but, many a day, she likes to mix things up. If she decides to wear a dress, she’ll wear a dress. Honestly, she cares about her appearance, but she likes what she wears and she wears what she likes.

personality.

talents:

[ ♠ ] knitting
[ ♠ ] singing
[ ♠ ] photography
[ ♠ ] flirting
[ ♠ ] "just saying no" (she's a virgin and plans to stay that way for quite some time)

likes:

[ ♠ ] pokemon
[ ♠ ] music
[ ♠ ] adrenaline
[ ♠ ] night
[ ♠ ] boys
[ ♠ ] arguments
[ ♠ ] literature
[ ♠ ] cameras
[ ♠ ] affection
[ ♠ ] fire
[ ♠ ] dogs

♠ They rock.
♠ Who doesn’t love music? Arabella just wishes she was musically inclined; she deems herself fit for singing into her hairbrush and nothing more.
♠ Though she isn’t much of an addict, the young woman lives for an adrenaline rush. She firmly believes that adrenaline is the safest drug, and cheapest. She once told a friend that she believed the man who has been scared once a day has lived longer than one who has lived a hundred years in complete security.
♠ Arabella’s a night person. Plain. And. Simple.
♠ A straight teenage female… Does this need any explanation?
♠ A bit odd, yes, but she stands by the belief that arguments and debates, if only taken to a certain extent, can challenge the mind and strengthen a relationship, whether it be between friends or rivals.
♠ If something has words, she’ll read it.
♠ There’s something magical about being able to capture a moment and preserve it forever. At least, she likes to think so. But, despite the stereotypical blonde female, Arabella prefers to stay behind the lens.
♠ Whether it be a smile or a hug, everyone needs a little comfort.
♠ Honestly, she’s a bit of a pyro. Not the insane type that lights small animals and children on fire with a candlestick, but, rather, the kind that sits on a couch and plays with a lighter.
♠ They're so cute!

dislikes:

[ ♠ ] her first name (sometimes)
[ ♠ ] fakers
[ ♠ ] cigarettes
[ ♠ ] full control
[ ♠ ] no control
[ ♠ ] silence
[ ♠ ] vegetables
[ ♠ ] headaches
[ ♠ ] basketball
[ ♠ ] prejudice
[ ♠ ] public speaking

♠ Who names their child Foxe Hunt? And, to add to the insanity, that’s a boy’s name.
♠ Fakers are liars to themselves and the world.
♠ She doesn’t dislike smokers… just the cigarettes themselves.
♠ Arabella feels too much pressure to have complete and total control over something or someone.
♠ On the other hand, she doesn’t want to be helpless.
♠ Silence is… awkward.
♠ She’s a meat eater. Enough said.
♠ Tylenol, anyone?
♠ She doesn’t mind shooting hoops, but she prefers football and volleyball a million times more.
♠ Racism, ageism, sexism, stereotyping… It only causes dramas and wars.
♠ Nothing seems to shake Arabella up like a bit of public speaking. The girl who always seems to have something to say always manages to fall silent in front of a crowd.

strengths:

[ ♠ ] intelligence
[ ♠ ] wit
[ ♠ ] open-mindedness
[ ♠ ] photography
[ ♠ ] appearance
[ ♠ ] singing
[ ♠ ] knitting

♠ Her brother got the charm; she got the smarts.
♠ Her father’s sarcastic remarks and sometimes-funny, sometimes-cutting words rubbed off on her over the years, whether she liked it or not.
♠ Her parents aren’t what one would consider conservative, but there are several things they might assume the world was ending if they witnessed. For example, if precious Arabella ended up in a rehabilitation center for marijuana use, they’d start reading their Bibles and going to church a lot more often. Miss Arabella, on the other hand, prefers to take an “anything goes” outlook on other people, though judges a tad harsher on herself and her own actions.
♠ She likes it; she’s good at it; it’s a talent. Capeesh?
♠ Quite frankly, Arabella looks way older than she is. That, of course, has its advantages.
♠ Yes, yes, we have already stated she has a passion for music; but, unbeknownst to her, she has the voice of an angel and the range of a superstar.
♠ A secret passion, yes, but a passion and a talent none the less. Over the years, her hands have become accustomed to the, well, rather awkward movements and motions of the classic grandma past-time, knitting.

weaknesses:

[ ♠ ] romance
[ ♠ ] trust
[ ♠ ] anger
[ ♠ ] optimism
[ ♠ ] appearance
[ ♠ ] courage
[ ♠ ] tickling

♠ Arabella wants to fall in love. The problem: she’s scared of not being caught.
♠ Some trust too few; others trust too many. Arabella is the lucky girl who gets the worst of both worlds: she trusts the untrustworthy and shields herself from those she shouldn’t.
♠ Some days, the young woman is a ticking time bomb. It’s just unavoidable.
♠ Her almost-always optimistic attitude seems to rather set her up for disappointment. Arabella thinks something’s going to be oh-so wonderful, and it becomes one of the worst moments of her life.
♠ Honestly, if someone verbally attacked her appearance, she’d crack. She’s a self-conscious teenager; it’s practically expected. And, to add to it, her body jumped ahead of her age; her quick-to-mature appearance could easily be attacked by the hundreds and thousands of catty females running around.
♠ Unfortunately, Arabella’s bravery falters in the worst moments. If she’s three words from telling someone something that is burning inside of her, she bites her lip, makes up some lame excuse, and hightails it out of there.
♠ To put it simply: the girl is dangerously ticklish.

general personality:

To begin with, Arabella’s… different. And, quite frankly, she likes it that way. No one’s perfect, and neither is she. She doesn’t want to be. She has her good days, and she has her bad days, just like everyone else. So, I suppose you could define her like this: you’ll never find another like her, but she’s just like everyone else.

» Angels
shy;; sweet
Arabella’s a kind girl; really, she is. She tries to be nice to just about everyone, whether they like it or not. She’s not the first to go and introduce herself to a complete stranger, though she wishes she had the courage and outgoing-attitude some of her fellow classmates possess. The young lady loves to make friends, though she might not be great at the process. Many a time, the young woman is left stuttering and sputtering to say a simple hello to the stranger beside her, who, in turn, glances at her and walks away a bit too quickly to be casual about it. However, Arabella is a firm believer in contagious smiles, whether it be stranger or friend, and tries to start the chain reaction often. She’s not quite sure why, but happy people make other people happy. Even if they fake it. Might as well make someone’s life a bit nicer, right?

spontaneous;; fun-loving
To put it simply, don’t expect a boring day with Miss Arabella. After years upon years of content nothingness, she’s tired of the non-eventful lifestyle. Drama of any sort is, well, wanted by the young lady (at least, compared to boringness). Being easily amused, the littlest of actions can send her into a giggle fit, and, like anyone, she likes to be happy. To her, it makes sense. Drama (the kind that don’t actually hurt people, like tickle-fights) makes her adrenaline pump, and adrenaline makes her happy, so a little wholesome drama shouldn’t hurt anyone. She tries not to steer anyone into a hateful relationship, but her spontaneity is often thought annoying by those who are already annoyed with her in the first place. If she pokes you in the side, she’s not trying to gouge your heart out. Promise.

» Demons
competitive;; quick-tempered
Whether it’s sports or video games, Arabella feels the need to win. At everything. And, unfortunately, she doesn’t know when to leave the sportsmanship attitude on the field (or at the controllers) and when to get on with life. If her football team lost that afternoon, it probably won‘t be a lovely evening. Paired with that, her anger is, well, atrocious at times. Depending on the day, she can take millions and millions of catty remarks and be fine. Usually, though, it won’t take much to send her through the roof. A look, the absence of a look… Anything.

stubborn;; jealous
“If you start something, you finish it.” The young woman’s father used to pound the phrase into his daughter’s head every chance he got. To her father’s happiness, those words were permanently burned into the back of Arabella’s skull, the syllables dancing in her head every time she became stuck on something. It could be anything, from knitting a hat to acing the History test to getting the boy, and she had to follow through as much as possible. Quite frankly, Arabella enjoys having the ability to do something on her own. A bit of help every now and again is nice, but the feeling of satisfaction after completing a task solo is amazing. But, of course, if one person has something she doesn’t, it perks her attention. Mainly, it’s the attention she envies most of other people, though she could catch someone‘s eye easily. That cute boy is looking at the girl on the dance floor? Arabella’s cheeks flush and she starts dancing. Her best friend has a new pal? Expect a few glares. Her enemy found a better rival? Watch out: she’ll annoy the heck out of both of them.

» All the Lost Souls
intelligent;; insane
Her grade-point average is above-average, some might even go so far as to call it great. Honestly, Arabella doesn’t mind cracking out the homework and dishing up the essays. Though it might not be the most interesting subject, she’s determined to do her best, or at least put in enough effort to tell her parents she tried. So, when it comes to books, she’s got the smarts. When it comes to life, lock her up in an asylum and throw away the key. To put it politely, she’s a novice at making good decisions. Sometimes, she’ll turn out lucky by picking what‘s behind Door Number One. Other times, she would’ve been better off with Door Number Two.

moody;; malleable
Everyone has their days: the days where they want to change their lives and start anew, be a different person. All of that and a bag of chips, no? Arabella has those days probably a bit too often, deciding she’s going to jump from a plane one moment and cower in a corner the next. With her romantic life, it comes just as randomly: first she’s confident and sexy, then she’s playful and shy. Though her moods swing from one end of the spectrum to the other with just one glance, the way she’s treated and those she’s surrounded by easily change and mold her attitude. If she’s swimming in party-goers, she‘ll be dancing to any beat. If she’s hanging with math-geeks, she’ll bust out her calculator.

history.

hometown:
Born in Texas, but moved to Boston, Massachusetts last year. She still has a "Texan" accent amongst her students.

general history:

To understand a person, you must understand their past, and perhaps a little before their time.

Mister Richard Hunt and Miss Annabelle Santos met one sunny afternoon in mid-August, when Richard was a strapping young man of 25 and Annabelle was a lovely young woman of 22. If you’re expecting a love-at-first-sight fairy tale, you’re reading the wrong romance. Their meeting was by perfect chance, and by perfect accident (and a bit comical, in truth). The two met in a park, a perfectly normal setting with perfectly normal people. Annabelle was taking her dog, a Labrador who will make hardly any further appearance in this story, for a walk with her older sister, who had been spending the last few hours begging her sister to find a date for an banquet that she was attending with someone whom she rather regretted extending an invitation to. Richard was with a few of his friends, playing a little game of football.
“Look, I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’m going to go! I don‘t have anyone to, and I‘m rather scared to actually ask them myself,” Annabelle explained to her sister, giving a slight tug on her Labrador‘s leash.
“Hey, Hunt! Go long!” one of Richard’s muscle-head friends called.
“Oh, please! I bet you could get any guy you wanted,” Annabelle’s sister remarked.
Richard ran.
Annabelle scoffed.
It all ended with one football to the back of the head, all because of a lack of attention and one over-thrown pass.
“Ow!” Annabelle exclaimed, moments after the blow registered in her mind and the football fell to the ground, a treat to a happy Labrador. “I’m so sorry, ma’am,” Richard apologized, emphasizing “so” for a little too long. She stooped to retrieve the football, shot a quick glare at him that he, nor anyone else, noticed, grabbed the ball, and handed it back to her new friend, slobber and all.
“Once again, I’m really sorry,” he repeated, offering an apologetic smile. Annabelle accepted, a grin dancing across her lips. “It’s okay. Just… watch out next time, okay?”
Richard jogged back, silently cursing himself for not even asking for a name or a way to make it up to her. “He was cute!” Annabelle’s sister whispered, a toothy grin painted on her face. “Of course he was! But it doesn’t matter. I’ll never see him again, which might be better for my health…”
“HEY! HEY, GUY! WILL YOU GO ON A DATE WITH MY SISTER?!”

A year after their first date came their second, a year after that came their holy matrimony, and a year after that came Richard Everett Hunt, Jr. He was a cute little boy, though a bit troublesome, as all little ones are. He was six when his mommy announced to him that he would have a little brother or sister in a few months. “I want a brother. Can you make sure it’s a brother, mommy?” he had asked her. Needless to say, he wasn’t quite as thrilled as the rest of his family when his little sister came into the world.

Foxe Arabella Hunt entered this world on a cold, windy day in early December, the fourth, to be exact. The waiting room was occupied by her relatives, humans and werewolves alike, ready to welcome her into the family. She was a lucky child, you could say; within the first few hours of her life, she met most of her closest family in all of their smiling glory. Her birth went smoothly; no complications or reasons she’d be forced to stay for later tests. She was a healthy, happy baby who was loved very dearly by her parents, and secretly by her brother. The rest of her youngest years went just as smoothly; she was a sweet little girl just like every other little girl swimming in pink footie-pajamas and white bows for what little hair they had. In truth, most of her years were easy overall. No close relatives died; no mean little boys called her names that would therefore prevent her from looking at males the same way again; really, nothing traumatic--which translates as interesting--happened.

When she hit the fifth grade, little Miss Arabella began feeling and noticing changes. She became sleepier more often, wanted to rip off every blonde girl's head every alternating twenty seconds, and decided she was glad she had a bra. That was probably the beginning of her life as Arabella, The One Who Looks Like She's Twenty And Doesn't Get Along With Girls Too Often. Quite frankly, that was fine with her. She had grown up with her older brother being, well, male, and the siblings were close. Arabella prefered the out-in-the-open fights the boys would have, versus the behind-your-back-you-evil-b-word drama the girls caused. But, honestly, Bella didn't mind the X chromosomes; they just annoyed her and she annoyed them and all was good. At least, until eighth grade.

There was a girl, Bethany, two grades above Arabella, who had been the new girl that year. The two didn't get along in the least after Arabella and Bethany's boyfriend shared one single kiss at a football game (whom, by the way, Arabella was told to be single). Bethany Hamilton, firmly believing Miss Hunt had seduced her boyfriend of two weeks and it was all her fault, vowed that she would get at the "little bitch" no matter what it took. (Ah, the stupidity of jealous young females.) And, so, she began plotting, and scheming, and plotting some more.

It was a Tuesday when it happened. Arabella remembered it clearly, because she had stayed up the previous night studying for an Algebra test. When she arrived at school, the weight of a million eyes were staring at her as she walked down her course of several hallways. Pretending it was her imagination, she ignored the chuckles and whispers as she passed groups and clusters of students and teachers. Arabella finally reached her locker, feeling utterly alone in her hallway that was usually occupied. She hummed a soft tune as her fingers expertly twirled the combination on her "The Flash" lock, bright red and yellow so that she'd never forget where her locker was. Click! Arabella opened her locker, feeling a little more relaxed now that she realized people weren't staring at her anymore. Inside her locker, a nude picture hung with a crude photoshopped picture of Arabella's face onto the head.

So began the search for a new school, namely East Valley High.

other.
She has an Alaskan Malamute, dubbed Balto, back home whom she loves and misses very much.
anything else?:
Thank you for reading. ♥ [/size]

[Hayley Johnson]

accepted <3