Constance Povey's Journal

Application~
[OOC Info]
Player name: Liane
Time zone: Pacific
AIM/Email: notacentaur @ aim
RP Experience: I've roleplayed in various forms for the past ten years. Started out on web forums playing little more than Mary Sues, progressed into tabletop and MMOs; for the past year and a half, I've been mostly devoting my RP energy to livejournal-style RP.

[IC Info]

[Basics]
Muse Name: Constance Povey
Muse Journal:

notrlycrying
PB: Ginnifer Goodwin

[Appearance]
Constance tends to fade into the background, perhaps more for her attitude than anything else, but her looks fall just slightly more into the plainer side of things, which doesn't help. She's average height, at just around 5'5", and fluctuates around 140lbs, which often seems like ten or fifteen too much to her. Her dark brown hair flows straight down to around her shoulders, framing a round face and big brown eyes. Constance's ears stick out a bit, much to her chagrin, but despite the fact that the hairstyle highlights her Dumbo-ears, Constance pulls her hair back regularly. She normally wears light colors and floral prints, although if you asked her she couldn't for the life of her say why.

[History]
Constance has always lived in small towns. She was born and raised in the rural areas of Montana and went to school at the state university in Missoula. Following in her mother's footsteps since she didn't know what else to do, Constance graduated right in the middle of her class with her teaching degree. She hadn't really found a passion while at University of Montana, but her family and friends seemed pleased by her choice, so Constance told herself she was, too.

Finding it a little difficult to locate a steady job near her hometown, Constance eventually found herself in a little town in Nebraska. She's now twenty-nine, teaching third grade, and quite enjoys it. Or, well, at least as much as she can.

[Personality]
As mentioned before, Constance is actually rarely noticed if she doesn't make a point of it. Which, of course, she never does. Constance is quietly smart, but also hesitant with her ideas, never speaking up and certainly never contradicting someone else's idea.

Two years ago, Constance was diagnosed with depression, and she's been on various anti-depressants ever since. They usually work and she goes through life feeling vaguely happy, but always with an underlying feeling of something slightly off. She keeps her illness quiet, preferring not to tell others about her private life.

Constance enjoys reading Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. Her favorite scent is clean linen and she prefers Fresca soda over any other sort. When Constance is feeling down or fat or unhappy or confused or overwhelmed, she eats. She also starts every day with a mile run, ever since her doctor said exercise would help her mental health; that helps keep her slender, but Constance still is very conscious about her weight and her body.

[Personal Life]
Constance is an elementary school teacher and, as such, most likely knows anyone in town who has had a seven or eight year old child in the past few years. She goes to the Hole in the Door every so often for a girly drink, but generally avoids alcohol because of her medication. She's not huge on social interaction, but is friendly enough and remembers names and faces well.

[Writing Sample]
Ninety seconds is a long time. Ninety seconds is a long time to hold your breath, to free fall, to have an orgasm, to laugh without stopping, to chug a beer, or to stare at the sun. But ninety seconds is also not enough time to duck out of the classroom just to get some peace and quiet. It's not enough time to close your eyes and take a nap, either.

But, honestly, Constance thinks as she looks over the furiously thinking heads of her students, ninety seconds is enough time to finish thirty multiplication problems. Her students are bright, over a third of the questions were repeats with the numbers switched around, and eight of them were a digit times zero, which she knew her students knew was zero. But that didn't mean five or six children didn't groan in consternation when Constance rang the bell marking the end of the timed test.

Ninety seconds was a long time: a long time to sit underwater, a long time to cry, and a long time to stare down the barrel of a gun for. But it was the time afterward, when Constance lost herself and looked down at the dozen and a half little faces, absolutely unable to understand their importance, that seemed even longer.

She cleared her throat and clapped her hands once. "Alright, pass your papers toward the front."