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Kerli Kopecki

"Sometimes, one just needs to accept my flaws."

0 · 833 views · located in Old Town

a character in “Never Too Late”, as played by Deer

Description

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"Sometimes, one just needs to accept my flaws."
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Name: Kerli Kopecki

Nickname: None
Age: 20
Motto: "Sometimes, one just needs to accept my flaws."
Theme Song: Savant - Step Up Your Game
Sexual Orientation: Lesbian
Role/Couple: Girl 3 - Couple 3
Did you the one who gave up or the other that got hurt?: The One That Left

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Appearance: Kerli has soft brown eyes, in a deep contrast with her light skin. Usually her eyes are more vibrant due to her constant usage of eyeliner. Her hair is a dark brown, pulled back to bare her forehead. Kerli wears revealing dresses, mostly dark colors. She wears small earrings, such as studs or miniscule hoops. She has freckles patterning her shoulder blades and shoulders. A scar is drawn from her right elbow to bicep, gained in a sporting event after falling on cement. It hurt. Her brown hair is naturally curly, so an attempt to straighten it is generally time-consuming. Kerli has a tattoo on her back, in the midst of her shoulder blades. It has an image of a female with antlers, with stars being reflected in her green eyes. Kerli has said that this was her sister and she now lay in the stars, roaming with the deer in the fields. Her sister had died at birth, only being three days old. She imagines she would have looked beautiful, like in the tattoo.
Personality: Kerli is a woman who can have a differentiated personality. She can be seductive, flirty, and happy, allowing friendship and romance to overcome her. If she is angered, sad, or a negative mood, her personality will become a bipolar restraint of crying, sobbing, and throwing objects unknown to her grasp, as she just intends for something to throw at some points in her life. Kerli has a tendency to lay around, generally being lazy and lounging on chairs, couches, or her own bed. She is not athletic, only participating in certain events, likewise to when she had attended the event at the age of sixteen and had gained the scar. It was only for observation, as she was there to watch her friend play football. It hadn't been the most positive outcome, with blood being all over her arm and her friend's team losing to some group of fools and idiots.
Likes: (Favorite food, color, day, whatever they like) Kerli's choice of music ranges from certain instrumentals to a pounding noise of club-music, generally electronica, resembling the breaking of computers. She favors day, because at night she becomes a reckless monster full of tears, streaming eyeliner, and anger if she ends up staying late. She does not become a bratty, demanding idiot believing in only herself for salvation of the world, but it does make her become angered. A lot. Her favorite food happens to be salad, as it isn't a common favoritism in her family, for all of them being maddening carnivores with a diet centered around meat. Of all these years, she was surprised none of her outgoing family members had ever gotten salmonella with all the meat-eating contests they hosted. It was an annual kind of thing, but Kerli made up some excuse just for an attempt to avoid the man-handling of meat and a lot of barbeque plastered amongst walls and meat. She likes her mother, because she was a lady of more mannerly reasons to not attend the contests and they would discuss topics of their favorite weekly instrument together. Kerli still holds the grudge against her mother that the piano is better than the harpsichord.
Dislikes: Kerli dislikes her father. Not in a hated manner, with any due respect for her parents, but she did not like his beastly ways of selfishness and horrifyingly messy format. His fingers covered in grease, covertly smeared with barbeque, and strings of meat hanging from his blubbering lips. He also tended to shout, use profanity, and have a consistency of punching people in the thighs, his pockets jingling with silver dollars and incessant dimes. She dislikes ignorance. Everyone assumes pleasure can be found within ignorance, while being expectant of a primrose to bloom in May but never knowing of it's position in your backyard, until your stumble across it and state it's beautiful. Ignorance can also be regretful, as becoming ignorant means deciding to pull a veil over your face and hiding the world from your view. Kerli has always discovered herself as a being more judgmental to other beings, discovering her flawed traits always tempting to toy with, to see what her decisions create. It was always a negative outcome, with her judgmental accusations. She dislikes people who have a persistent ability to intend to end an argument, so Kerli attempts to always avoid arguments or gossip. It just ends up being one demeaning salvation for the winning spoils of ending an argument, with a smirk and a flash of brown hair.
Fears: Kerli has fears. A lot of them. She fears insects. The insects that fly around in incessant storms and gather around your head. It makes her shiver just imagining the bugs crawling in your head and face as you walk through their clouds of insect gathering. It's like they want Kerli to walk through their storms. More shivering. She fears greed. As a child, she would always involve greed with toys and foot, being catered by her mother and father, lounging on the couch patched with duck-tape from their dog Carrie. Carrie was a good dog. Ear mites. Some fleas. Nothing major, until she just passed peacefully, laying in their snowy lawn. She was thirteen, possibly died of elder age. Kerli missed Carrie, always remembering whipping the frisbee into the endless skies to only retreat back to the muddy ground in the summer and have Carrie catch it in her firm mouth, implanting her saliva all over the edge. The ground was always so muddy in the summer, their house being set upon on a grassy hill, thriving with more insects and more frogs. She would be greedy and gloat over catching the largest frog at her elementary to her friends, when she'd always had been the one who catches the smallest, just to have herself become relieved into a tedious tidal wave of lies. So greed overcame her childhood, and she became a woman who expected everything. Food arriving to her, house becoming cleaned by her parents, her bed being arranged when she arrived home from school. Everything was revolving around her. No time for lying around to watch the four o' clock soap opera, instead, bothering with creating the finest lobster dinner for Kerli. So, when she became older, she feared greed. Feared that it would overcome her. Again. Her final fear is broken bones. The snapping of the bone, the heated intensity of the careful acupuncture of the bone's alignment, snapped, to only resume perfection after a few weeks. She had broken her femur as a child, after being stupid, childish, immature, name all of the negative insults to classify a child as. Kerli had jumped off of her garage, an attempt to land on her trampoline, acting daring, acting brave. Until she broke her femur, of course.
Dreams: Kerli dreams of finding that person. That one, damn person, that will love her, treat her with a respectful dignity, and have them accept her flaws. So many flaws though. Too many to count. Her face is too long. Her eyes are too big. Her hair is too dark to be in contrast with her pale skin, it just makes her look like the plastic utensil families use with two children because they are too cheap to afford metal utensils. She dreams that the person will kiss her cuts and bruises, trail their lips along her cheekbones and give a sensation of warmth across her chilled arms, trailed with goosebumps and raised hairs. That will never happen, but she can dream. Kerli dreams to become a professional creative author someday in her elder years, where she writes about romance and vampires and sparkles intermingled with fairies to create a sudden cross-breed. Oh wait, she forgot, that's already been done. Back to plotting. She could be the elder woman, pondering over her next article as she strokes her cat and sits by the fire, drinking cinnamon tea. Right. Another dream that will happen.
History: Kerli was a child enveloped in greed, laying around in food such as hamburgers piling on her chest and grease staining her chapped lips. She would lay in her pajamas every weekend, watching the kid's channels and listening to olden tunes, like the Beatles, or some other crappy band. This greed was so unknown to her father or mother, as she just waved it off like dust. Dust. Waving it away. Greed. Hamburgers. Grease. A horrifying combination of unending power derived into intimacy. When she became a teenager, her greed and laziness condensed into gloating. Getting frogs that were tiny in the creek behind her house with other friends who weren't really friends, and comparing the writhing frogs in miniscule plastic bins with each other. Giggling over the green, ugly patterns and the raised bumps decorating their backs like thousands of horrendous warts carved into a man's back. She believed that she withheld all the intimate power, and also the largest frog, when her other friends argued over the frogs size, and ended up becoming an angry, flailing bitch corresponding into tears. She would then throw the frogs back into the creek and storm off back to her house, her flip-flops flopping on the gravely sidewalks. Becoming a young adult gave her a responsibility to move out of the household she vacated, now smelling of cat shit, cat piss, and beer. Her mother had passed, and her father now wasted away his life drinking ale and beer, and all that other gross objectives in life which calmed a being. She lost her thoughts over time, and moved out, obtained life into searching for love, and working on new novels. This was a start of a new life. A damn new life.
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So begins...

Kerli Kopecki's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Desi Rae Hunter Character Portrait: Danielle Jones Character Portrait: Kerli Kopecki Character Portrait: Jonathan Henry Baker Character Portrait: Anthony Carter Reed Character Portrait: Lacianne Roux
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#, as written by HypeR
It started like this. Meet someone you end up considering a friend. Something happens that seems awkward for a moment. Then you kiss and are instantly in love, right? Well, aside of something like that actually being true, something bad always comes out of happiness. In this case, one of them just gives up while the other is eaten alive by whatever goddamn thing happened and ends up becoming sad and depressed. Depressed doesn't sound too bad, does it? Well if that's what you think, you've obviously have never been depressed. When someone's depressed, the only thing they feel is hurt and pain and more than half of the time they don't even know why they're so upset. They feel a tug in the pit of their soul. A tug in the middle of their being. A tug that just edges them on. Making them become sad and miserable. Pushing them to a point that no human being can understand unless they themselves had felt it. This point it called by many names. Some call it the high point in depression, some call it the end, and some call it the point of no return, which is the name I prefer. This is the point where the being that has came to that point decides there's no meaning in their life and that they can't go on. That's when the blade comes out. That's when the noose is tied. When the bottle of pills come out and a gun. The blade will cut, the noose will hang, the bottle will be emptied, and the gun will be shot.The sad thing about all this is the fact that it is caused by love gone bad; and I think that's one of the worse things in the world.

I hate being a girl sometimes. You have periods that come with bitchy attitudes. You need to keep up your figure and wear a hell of a lot of makeup to make yourself feel pretty and feel like other people will think your pretty. You have to wear bars that just get uncomfortable after a while. You can be a whore and get upset when someone calls you a whore. You get treated like guys property with them calling you their girl. And you fall in love fast and hard just because the guy you go out with tells you they love you and gives you a good kiss and feels on you a little. Well, if you ask me, I hate all that shit and wish I could just quit it all. But, damn, I can't do that.

I look around my room and see the small knife I've been using. It's not a pocket knife, just a small knife with a stone handle and a silver blade. It sit's on my dresser in front of my mirror next to my hair brush. I look closely at the dresser and all the things on it from where I sit on my bed. There's my pink striped makeup case containing eyeliner, eye shadow, mascara, lip gloss, and various other makeup related utensils at the far left of the dresser. Next to it is two bottles of hair spray and my perfume. Next to that is a small wooden jewelry book that contains a few rings, silver bracelets, and silver necklaces. I stop looking at the stuff on the dresser and my eyes land on my reflection in the mirror. My blonde hair is perfectly done and in place. I wear my little pink girly dress showing off the light skin tone. Around my neck hangs my golden necklaces. I have a faint smile on my face, but I know the pain behind it. I look at the suitcase on my bed and then look down and faintly close my eyes.

Over the pass mouth I guess, Jon and four other dumbasses who messed up their relationships and have a girlfriend or boyfriend that's all depressed and shit now decided to hit up this place all the way in Ireland. Now me and these two others are being forced to pack our bags and go to some dainty little town in Ireland. Ireland for Christ sake! I open my eyes and look right at my left wrist that's on my bed holding me up by my hand as I sit. I'm wearing my golden bracelets on each wrist, but the more balk bracelets are on my left to cover the scars. Those damn scars. I always have to hide them so no body asks any questions.

I stand up from my bed and walk over to the mirror. I stare at myself in the mirror and smile that small fake smile. I let out a sigh and grab everything off my dresser and stuff it in my suit case. After all the stuff is in the suitcase, I stare at it and look for a minute. The knife was still sitting on my dresser. I turn around and tilt my head at it slightly. I walk across my floor slowly and pick it off the dresser. As my hand was reaching for the knife, I caught my eyes again in the mirror. It was like I was telling myself that what I was going to do was wrong and I shouldn't do it. But I shook it off and pick the knife up, walked back over to my bag, and put it in my makeup bag. After that, I closed my suitcase and dragged it out of my room and throw my ever so clean and empty apartment. I wanted to beat the traffic to the airport. "Off to Ireland." I told myself sarcastically and stepped in the elevator, thinking about how the other people there are going to be like.

((OOC: Kinda long, sorry! Anyways, we'll just write the first post as if we're leaving our homes and heading to the airport. We're not going to do a post on the plane ride there, just the post leaving your home and the post arriving there.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kerli Kopecki
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#, as written by Deer
Kerli sat in the leather chair, the plaid blanket laying ornately over her lap. A cat lounged near the fire brimming with ash and the gaseous flames of red hues. Her mother had recently opened the door, arriving with groceries which now stay placid in the fridge, becoming cool and prepared for the evening's dinner. She looked towards the kitchen, as if expectant of some unknown presence to come striding through the arched doorway. Wooden floorboards. Silver fridge. Silver stove. Marble counter-tops. What a modern household, derived from the latest modern catalogs for the people of most modern class. The glass table sit in the midst of the cramped room, a transparent vase reflecting the colored water, with plastic primroses blooming precisely, angled near the window which mirrored the sunlight rising above the horizon. A star yellowed amongst the graying sky. The tickets sit on the table, near the vase. She sat upwards, the blanket spilling at her ankles.

Her fingers touched the edges of the tickets, feeling the thin paper, colored a light blue with text horizontally lined amongst the center. Numbers. Letters. They all intermingled together into a stream of dizzying information, so uninformative yet such an important role in the production of transportation. Just more damn money to become pocketed into the government, to be spoken about on the social media, and to be craved by the greedy watchers. It was a cycle that was the basic role of the economy. The government gets all the damn currency, another source of intended communism, and then the social media speaks about it because they believe that they are knowing of everything, and then the watchers sit at the edge of their seat licking their greased fingers over their chicken dinner. Kerli sat down and stared at the tickets. Ireland. It was a place she never thought she'd shamble off to in her lifetime. She was expectant of traveling to Canada or California, but never Ireland with the red hair and the kilts with their hairy legs flaring in the cooling breeze.

Kerli stood upwards and walked towards the stove. She observed the metal pot, the water lining the rim. The bubbles surfacing as the heat circulated throughout the pot. Bubbles. Heat. Water. Kerli turned off the stove and ran up the stairs. She wasn't hungry anyway. She plastered herself to her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Cracks in the walls from the aged paint. Bumps in the walls from too much sloppy painting. Holes in the walls from too much thumbtacks for posters of music artists who eventually became unknown to history. She looked at her phone, which buzzed with a hurried anticipation. Her flight would take off in three hours. Time to take an unending drive down the bending road to the airport, where she would lounge in the plastic chairs and await the announcer with the petty voice to come amongst the P.E. and state that Flight 3501 would be prepared to take off. She would fall asleep for a few minutes, before awakening in remembrance of the songs reverberating through her ear drums.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Desi Rae Hunter Character Portrait: Kerli Kopecki
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Desi laid on her bed looking up at the ceiling, todays the day she would have to face Kerli once again. Why did she say yes? Well its obvious, she couldn't say no to Kerli, she loved the girl even if Kerli hurt her. Her alarm buzzed reminding her that it was time to get up and ready to go to Ireland. She never thought she would be going to Ireland, or ever go on a plane but heres her chance. Sitting up she looked around her room, she packed the night before but she should go through her list once more to make sure she had everything.

So thats what she did for the next half hour, going over the list she made for the trip and also going through her suitcases not only once but twice.It was a bad habit but one she could not stop, the therapist she used to see said it would become easier to deal with the o.c.d. but the thing is it was never easy. Her mother recently has been showing up daily, worried about her, telling her she wasn't eating enougg. Which was true, ever since Kerli walked out the door Desi has hardly ate, nothing appeased her any longer. Yes she missed Kerli, wishing to be in her arms once again, which she never thought would happen again but then Kerli called and invited her on this trip out of the blue.

Desi knew she would look different to Kerli, smaller, more boney but why would her ex care? Kerli left her, there must have been something wrong with her to have the girl walk out the door. Letting out a tiny sigh she got dressed in a pair of skinny black pants, having to wear a belt and also put on a band tshirt. After her converse were tied on her feet she grabbed her suitcases, got into her car, and headed to the airport where she was to meet up with Kerli and headed off to the green land of Ireland.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Kerli Kopecki
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#, as written by Deer
Kerli closed her fist. Her knuckles whitened. She opened her hands. It was a tedious cycle until she ended up inducing herself in a desolate state of aching hands and tired limbs. The announcer was a female, sounding preppy, possibly with blonde hair and a soft face that presented full lips covered in a shimmering lip gloss and too much eyeliner. By the time the woman had radiated her loud voice around the airport, half of the people had already filed into their planes, presenting themselves amongst the stairs and clambering into a crowded aisle next to a drunken male complimenting them on their eyes. Too many experiences that Kerli had obtained in her lifetime to be used as mere conscious examples.

Kerli walked through the metal bars which shifted with the interruption of a being walking through them. She had gone through all the unimportant events that took place at every airport and finally arrived amongst the steps of the plane. A cool wind had begun whipping her brown hair around, bunching it amongst her cheek-bones and causing her scarf to continually slap at her stomach. She walked amongst the metal steps, her footing heavy and causing interruption amongst people's conversations to look towards the door and watch the new person arrive awkwardly. She scanned the seats, before finding her position. She sat next to a male in a suit. He smelled like beer and sex. He looked towards Kerli and smiled. A smile saying he was drunk and he wanted sex. Or not. He could just be courteous and smile. She tended to conclude her thoughts amid conversation or in her case, a man smiling.

The plane ride was long. It was long and tiring. The man continued to look out his window and tap his left thigh. Kerli continued to look around and hum songs. Songs that were boring and delivered no intentional bother to listen. Screechy voices, auto-tune, and more screeching of guitars and drums. She positioned her head to rest against her shoulder, humming about the screeching of the voices. The world was so dark. It was so fragile, and so tempting to enclose all of it. This was all just a maddening conversation in her conscious as she progressed into a sleep a tired man envied.