VAN RENSSELAER, FELICE ADRIANNE

[felice]

felice adrianne van rensselaer.

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/ i want to voice this out loud

full name. felice adrianne van rensselaer.
stage name. felice mount.
nicknames. n/a.
age dob. thirty, december eighteenth.
gender. female.
sexual orientation. heterosexual.
career. tv/film actress.
hometown. santorini, greece.


/ it's therapeutic somehow

height. 168 cm.
eyes. blue.
hair. blonde.
build. svelte.
distinguishing features. beauty mark.
play-by. january jones.


/ so i'm moving to new york

loves. green tea, red wine, almond bark, horrendously hot showers, christian louboutins, sunglasses, men's sweaters, acting, her family, art, egon schiele, michael fassbender, macs, blackberrys, politics, frozen yogurt, pasta, italy, travelling, the cold, st. lucia, lucky strikes, children, eating healthy, swimming, exercising, surfing, baby bulldogs, leonardo dicaprio, love stories.
hates. discrimination, radishes, donuts, carbs, pity parties, liars, hypocrites, drugs, alcoholics, valentine's day, cats, birds, the smell of leather.
quirks. mixes mayonnaise and ketchup, sleeps with her leg hanging off the bed, speaks with a french accent when distressed, goes jogging every morning at five am, showers twice a day.
aspirations. have two children, get married before she's thirty-six, surf in fiji, work with leonardo dicaprio.
secrets. has never been in a serious relationship, brother is an abusive drunk.
personality evaluated.

one word to describe felice van rensselaer would be provocative. whereas her brother, caradoc, is taciturn and observant and her sister, summer, loquacious and playful, felice is an amalgamation of the two. amiable yet sly, charming in the most disarming way, she knows what she wants and she goes for it. she's vivacious, power hungry, and full of life. sometimes, though, her desire to succeed leads her in the wrong direction. she is the embodiment of all's fair in love and war, rarely taking into account the thoughts of others when she's eager to achieve something. in general, however, she can be a delicately sweet woman. that does not mean she is one to be stepped all over, though. she has a strong sense of self and an unbridled sense of pride, which occasionally comes across as arrogance. when this occurs, however, she does not back down. if someone calls her egotistical, she will pick at each and every one of their flaws until they have become unravelled. most definitely, she is not the kind of woman that one would want to cross.

she's also incredibly concerned with her health and staying in shape. despite her smoking habits - she goes through a carton every three days - she eats all the right things, shying away from unhealthy fats, and consumes more than the recommended amount of water a day. in fact, it's very rare that she's ever without her water bottle. that isn't to say she's terribly strict with her diet, though. she knows how to indulge, red wine and cherry garcia being her vices, but she's generally quite good about what she puts into her body. especially alcohol, since her brother, the person she has looked up to her whole life, is an abusive alcoholic. very few people are aware of this fact, however, and felice does her best to keep her brother in check by restricting his alcohol consumption. it isn't even that she's ashamed of his problem, but more that she's a bit of a mother hen.

although she wouldn't appear to be one, she's very protective of those she cares about, though they are few. she hates to see those she loves in distress and she will go out of her way to make them feel better. however, she does expect some sort of recuperation of said affection. in short, she hates being underappreciated and when she is, she will become cold and distant until her compassion has been acknowledged. honestly, she can be quite moody, going from warm and caring to aloof and unapproachable. her moodswings are especially prominent during times of auditions, since her competitive side comes out and she considers most everyone around her a distraction or some sort of threat to her success.

other than her competitive tendencies, addiction to eating healthy, and general protectiveness, she's very much like most women. she enjoys going out with her friends, though she'd much prefer a quiet dinner at an exclusive restaurant than anything over the top, and reading. from scandalous beach reads to philosophical pieces by the likes of sartre or camus, literature is one of her favourite things and she spends an inordinate amount of money on purchasing books. she's got quite a temper on her, but she's not one for a scene, preferring to sort out matters in a more private setting. and it takes quite a lot to get her truly riled up, but when she's honest to god upset, she can be terrifying in her anger.


/ i've got issues with my sleep

father. joseph henry van rensselaer , fifty-nine , oil baron.
mother. annabelle karissa van rensselaer (née mount) , fifty-three , socialite.
siblings. caradoc graham van rensselaer , thirty-three , tv/film actor.
summer van rensselaer , twenty-four , designer.
pets. n/a.
other family. n/a.
history evaluated.

born near the end of the year to an oil baron and a former supermodel, felice van rensselaer has always gotten what she's wanted. from the newest barbie to the latest collection by versace, she's never been told no. being the middle child of her family, she was neither neglected nor spoiled, unlike her older brother and younger sister, respectively. but that led her to acting out to gain attention. from spending nights out with men who were far too old and girls who wore far too little, felice did all that she could to garner some sort of attention from her parents, whether good or bad. however, her parents paid her little mind. that was, until she appeared in the newspaper, photos of her dancing provocatively splayed across the front page. from then on, her parents focused more on her in an attempt to bring her down from her proverbial high, to calm her into a well-behaved young woman. that's when she began modelling. her parents figured, if she wanted attention, why not get it for something that was respected?

at the tender age of fourteen, she was thrown into the fashion world. and there was the first time she was told no, told that she wasn't good enough. although pretty, she did not hold the statuesque proportions required by designers and she was tossed to the side, only to be recruited when all else had failed. disheartened, she retreated back into the cozy, secluded life of a child from old money. she did not act out, she did not question the decisions her parents made for her - in fact, she did nothing. and then, her parents, yet again, intervened. they hired an agent for her and sent her out to seek roles, major or minor. all they wanted was their oldest daughter to be happy, to be the bright young woman she could be. and so she was. her first few auditions fell flat, but that was too be expected. before long, though, she had developed a voice of her own, a kind of star quality that hadn't been seen in the past. her career skyrocketed as a teenager and then... flatlined.

at twenty-five, she was no longer as coveted as she had been at twenty. four years in the spotlight and then nothing. and so, she went away. she left the world of hollywood and took some time for herself. she travelled for a year before she delved back into the world of glitz and glamour. at twenty-six, she was back on the scene. she picked her roles more carefully now, no longer accepting anything she could take, but opting instead to take on those that she could truly embody in some way. she wanted to be relatable, good at what she did, but not the sort of actress who would take anything. she wanted respect, to make a name for herself. working hard, she was doing precisely that.


/ christmas came early for me

alias. erin.
years of rp experience. two, i believe.
other characters. none at the moment.
how did you find us. an ad.
roleplay sample.

it's strange how things never turn out the way you expect them to.

______________________________


he's sitting across from me, the most curious expression in his eyes. he looks so completely at ease, as if he's not working to impress anyone, which he isn't, but the way he looks, so comfortable in his own skin, is baffling to me. whilst he takes a sip of his water, his gaze wandering away from my face, i seize these few moments to study him. it's not often that i have these opportunities, but he's distracted now, possibly by the passing couple walking by. for once, though, i don't notice them in the way that i normally do. this time, i'm focused completely on him, on every line of his face, every stray hair that curls across his forehead, every subtle twitch of his lip. although he's the photographer, the one always looking through the lens, taking in everyone else, the tables are now turned. i try to absorb every little detail of him, try to make sense of all of the emotions i catch flicker across his face as, for the first time, i really, truly look at him. no longer are the subtle glances spared across bustling rooms filled with the clamour of voices and forced laughter; instead, we are just two people, completely alone, having lunch at a corner café.

i am dressed down, my auburn hair pulled back into a garish bandana, minimal traces of makeup lighting up my normally heavily made up face. it's a strange feeling to be sitting here with him, just sitting and sharing the quiet, neither of us feeling the urge to break the comfortable silence with mindless chatter. it's odd, and yet, it's nice. it's unlike anything else, the feeling i get when i'm with him. just the way he looks at me makes my cheeks rosy. it isn't that we're desperately, irrevocably in love with one another, although i'm sure, in time, that may come to be the case, but it's the simple fact that we can just be. between the two of us, there are no strained silences or burdening tensions. we are just two people, two friends, enjoying one another's company.

______________________________


by the time we go to part ways, the lines have smudged. i've felt his hand intertwined with mine, his arms around my waist, his breath on my neck. it's different now, but still the same. there's still that ease, but beneath it lays unspoken words. neither of us knows what to say as we stand on the corner, arms awkwardly positioned at our sides, as if unsure of what to do. how curious that i, the surrogate actress, am completely at a loss. i've been through this scene so many times but when faced with it in reality, this parting is not as sweet as one would imagine.

minutes pass and we are on the brink of saying goodbye when i am unable to control myself. the feeling buzzing through me is unfamiliar but welcomed as i move forward, his body mirroring my movements. the warmth of his body makes me delirious as our limbs intertwine, his arms weaving around my waist and mine, around his neck. we stand there for several minutes, oblivious to the outside world. however, in the way that nothing lasts, we finally part. no words pass between us as i turn, casting a smile over my shoulder at the golden-haired boy standing beneath the streetlight.

[anna]

january jones! i love you already.