Sen Pai
I'm back, baby.
Name: Erica Cale
➣ she has no nicknames
Age: 30
➣ she was born on October 21st
Description:
Erica's a somewhat petite woman, she's not exactly a midget but she's not tall. Last time she checked, which was when she was twenty-two, she was 5'2 and she's pretty sure that she didn't grow much since then. Her build is a bit on the heavier side but she's managed to stay somewhat fit from all the work and running around she does. She has neck length brown hair that's usually tied up and brown eyes. Erica's face is somewhat childish since she has round cheeks and a small chin.
It was dark, there were no sightings of any stars in the sky meaning either it was going to rain or the earth's pollution level has skyrocketed. The empty streets were dimly lit, two streetlights down was a light that seemed to be broken since it continually flickered on and off. It was a rather cold autumn night, the year was beginning to transition in winter. Everything outside seemed to be shivering from the weather, even the trees shook when the wind breezed by them. Some would find this scene calm and relaxing, she found it absolutely creepy.
Inside a somewhat rundown apartment building, in front of Room 206, was a woman celebrating her thirtieth birthday. By herself. She was balancing the small box of cake bought from the bakery that specialized in cakes near her workplace with her left hand. Using her free hand to reach down into the pocket of her mousy brown coat, she groaned when she realized that she had lost her keys. Checking her purse and the other pocket of her coat, the woman kicked the door of her room in irritation before bending down and digging through the soil of the fern to find her spare key.
With each dig, dirt found its way in between her nails and dirtied her recently manicured hands. The woman grit her teeth together for a moment before letting out a tired sigh as she pulled the spare key out and dusted off the dirt. After unlocking her door, the woman trudged into the room that she called home and lazily slumped back against the door and closed it. Closing her eyes in attempt to regain some sort of energy, the woman let out a long sigh that sounded like she was about to fall asleep.
Her neck length hair resembled a bush, disheveled and messy. It was a rather beautiful shade of brown, russet brown, but due to the lack of loving care, it was a quite dry and had some split ends. Of course, the woman cut her own hair to save on money but that didn't mean she was a professional hair cutter, or even a stylist. She was simply an underpaid waitress who also worked another job at a grocery store on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. Sure, over the years she had gotten more and more experienced with these things, she even tried cutting her own bangs when she was twenty-two. However, she continued to pull her short hair back in a high ponytail.
The strands in the front weren't able to be tied back so they were usually secured by bobby pins, or some sort of clip. But, looking at the woman now, everything seemed to be falling apart. She was still wearing the uniform she was to wear at the restaurant but they were crinkled and loosely tied together. In the dark of the night, the bright white of her polo shirt seemed almost gray and her blue skirt looked more limp than usual. The woman's makeup was more messier than usual, her eyeliner was smudged and dots of mascara were under her eyes. Everything all seemed to be even more exaggerated when the woman reached her arm up to turn on the lights.
It flickered for a moment but the room was still dark. The woman groaned once more as she made a mental note to replace the light bulb in the entrance. She kicked off her boots and shrugged her coat off of her shoulders. Pushing the loose strands out of her face, the woman took a deep breath when she felt them fall back onto her face again. After a few minutes had passed, the woman finally pushed herself up off the floor and leaned on the wall as she made her way through the kitchen to set the cake on the counter, past her bedroom to drop her coat and purse on the floor of the doorway, and into the bathroom so that she could turn on the working lights and stare at herself.
Tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ears, the woman pursed her semi-chapped lips and licked them to regain some sort of moisture. With her hair secured behind her, the woman turned on the tap of her sink and cupped her hands. Splashing the water in her face, the woman's make up got even worse. Her mascara was running down her cheeks and the smudged eyeliner made her dark circles more miserable. Looking up into the other pair of dark brown eyes, the corners of the woman's lips raised up in a small smile. Leaning on her hands, the woman leaned forward, her face only centimeters away from the mirror.
Parting her lips slightly, the woman whispered a few words. "Happy birthday, Erica. You're thirty now." After washing off all of the makeup on her face, Erica turned off the lights in her bathroom and made her way back into the kitchen. Sitting down on one of the chairs, Erica carefully lifted the top of the box and stared down at the writing on the cake. It said "Happy birthday, Erica!", the sad part of this cake is that said Erica was the one who ordered it herself and asked for the writing to be written on it. But, she was a simple woman and being able to eat cake pleased her in a way that wasn't truly happiness.
As she took out a fork and began to eat the cake by herself, Erica glanced out the window of her apartment, her gaze unfocused and blurred. She wasn't staring at anything in particular nor was she deeply thinking. She was simply eating the cake and staring out the window. The dim light made its way into her apartment, lighting it ever so slightly. It really was a rather uncomfortable feeling. But, this was how Erica Cale celebrated her birthday.
(@Nyte I'm sorry for the wait, I got distracted by a few other things.)
➣ she has no nicknames
Age: 30
➣ she was born on October 21st
Description:
Erica's a somewhat petite woman, she's not exactly a midget but she's not tall. Last time she checked, which was when she was twenty-two, she was 5'2 and she's pretty sure that she didn't grow much since then. Her build is a bit on the heavier side but she's managed to stay somewhat fit from all the work and running around she does. She has neck length brown hair that's usually tied up and brown eyes. Erica's face is somewhat childish since she has round cheeks and a small chin.
It was dark, there were no sightings of any stars in the sky meaning either it was going to rain or the earth's pollution level has skyrocketed. The empty streets were dimly lit, two streetlights down was a light that seemed to be broken since it continually flickered on and off. It was a rather cold autumn night, the year was beginning to transition in winter. Everything outside seemed to be shivering from the weather, even the trees shook when the wind breezed by them. Some would find this scene calm and relaxing, she found it absolutely creepy.
Inside a somewhat rundown apartment building, in front of Room 206, was a woman celebrating her thirtieth birthday. By herself. She was balancing the small box of cake bought from the bakery that specialized in cakes near her workplace with her left hand. Using her free hand to reach down into the pocket of her mousy brown coat, she groaned when she realized that she had lost her keys. Checking her purse and the other pocket of her coat, the woman kicked the door of her room in irritation before bending down and digging through the soil of the fern to find her spare key.
With each dig, dirt found its way in between her nails and dirtied her recently manicured hands. The woman grit her teeth together for a moment before letting out a tired sigh as she pulled the spare key out and dusted off the dirt. After unlocking her door, the woman trudged into the room that she called home and lazily slumped back against the door and closed it. Closing her eyes in attempt to regain some sort of energy, the woman let out a long sigh that sounded like she was about to fall asleep.
Her neck length hair resembled a bush, disheveled and messy. It was a rather beautiful shade of brown, russet brown, but due to the lack of loving care, it was a quite dry and had some split ends. Of course, the woman cut her own hair to save on money but that didn't mean she was a professional hair cutter, or even a stylist. She was simply an underpaid waitress who also worked another job at a grocery store on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. Sure, over the years she had gotten more and more experienced with these things, she even tried cutting her own bangs when she was twenty-two. However, she continued to pull her short hair back in a high ponytail.
The strands in the front weren't able to be tied back so they were usually secured by bobby pins, or some sort of clip. But, looking at the woman now, everything seemed to be falling apart. She was still wearing the uniform she was to wear at the restaurant but they were crinkled and loosely tied together. In the dark of the night, the bright white of her polo shirt seemed almost gray and her blue skirt looked more limp than usual. The woman's makeup was more messier than usual, her eyeliner was smudged and dots of mascara were under her eyes. Everything all seemed to be even more exaggerated when the woman reached her arm up to turn on the lights.
It flickered for a moment but the room was still dark. The woman groaned once more as she made a mental note to replace the light bulb in the entrance. She kicked off her boots and shrugged her coat off of her shoulders. Pushing the loose strands out of her face, the woman took a deep breath when she felt them fall back onto her face again. After a few minutes had passed, the woman finally pushed herself up off the floor and leaned on the wall as she made her way through the kitchen to set the cake on the counter, past her bedroom to drop her coat and purse on the floor of the doorway, and into the bathroom so that she could turn on the working lights and stare at herself.
Tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ears, the woman pursed her semi-chapped lips and licked them to regain some sort of moisture. With her hair secured behind her, the woman turned on the tap of her sink and cupped her hands. Splashing the water in her face, the woman's make up got even worse. Her mascara was running down her cheeks and the smudged eyeliner made her dark circles more miserable. Looking up into the other pair of dark brown eyes, the corners of the woman's lips raised up in a small smile. Leaning on her hands, the woman leaned forward, her face only centimeters away from the mirror.
Parting her lips slightly, the woman whispered a few words. "Happy birthday, Erica. You're thirty now." After washing off all of the makeup on her face, Erica turned off the lights in her bathroom and made her way back into the kitchen. Sitting down on one of the chairs, Erica carefully lifted the top of the box and stared down at the writing on the cake. It said "Happy birthday, Erica!", the sad part of this cake is that said Erica was the one who ordered it herself and asked for the writing to be written on it. But, she was a simple woman and being able to eat cake pleased her in a way that wasn't truly happiness.
As she took out a fork and began to eat the cake by herself, Erica glanced out the window of her apartment, her gaze unfocused and blurred. She wasn't staring at anything in particular nor was she deeply thinking. She was simply eating the cake and staring out the window. The dim light made its way into her apartment, lighting it ever so slightly. It really was a rather uncomfortable feeling. But, this was how Erica Cale celebrated her birthday.
(@Nyte I'm sorry for the wait, I got distracted by a few other things.)
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