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