#( // &. characterintro - delaneyangelmeadows. )

[laneymeadows]

Hey is that [SYDNEY SWEENEY]? No, that’s just [DELANEY ANGELICA MEADOWS]. They’re [TWENTY-THREE], and have spent [TWO WEEKS] in Dayton. I hear that they’re kind of [LOYAL AND INTELLIGENT], but also [UNRELIABLE AND SELFISH]. Did you hear their vices are [PROMISCUITY AND COMMITMENT ISSUES]? Can’t wait to see [HER] at the next party! 

( TW: MENTIONS OF ABUSE AND NEGLECT. )

full name: delaney angelica meadows

nickname: laney, lane, angel, angie, d.

age: twenty-three

date of birth: november 26th

place of birth: nowhere, ky

zodiac: saggitarius

gender: cis-female

nationality: american

sexual orientation: pansexual

romantic orientation: panromantic

relationship status: single 

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES.

height:  5′3′

weight: 119 pounds

hair color: blonde

eye color: blue

need glasses/contacts? yes

tattoos: sagittarius tattoo star constellation just above the bend of her elbow, lotus on the other with a free flying bird leaving a sitting flock from her left to right shoulder, leaving stardust in it’s wake

distinguishing marks: signs of healed scars across her upper thighs and a couple on her wrists. 

BACKGROUND INFORMATION.

hometown: nowhere, ky

current residence: dayton, ca

past residences: las vegas, nevada. eugene & portland, oregon. seattle, washington.

living arrangement: apartment 

spoken languages: english

financial status: enough to get by but still getting settled

education level: finished high school at 17.

occupation: stripper at plan b

FAMILIAL INFORMATION.

father: wade meadows. 58. doesn’t remember much but the abandonment has weighed on her.

mother: farrah meadows. 56. hates her and hates even more that she’s become a carbon copy.

siblings: jamie & ryleigh meadows (twins, 21) aiden o’connor (brother, 31)

children: none

other: n/a

pets? dog named tank

PERSONALITY.

positive traits: adventurous, independent, loyal, easy going and charismatic.

negative traits: reckless, unreliable, selfish, detatched, aloof, irresponsible.

likes: sex, ecstasy, no strings attached, cocaine, tequila and taking her clothes off without a second thought, tik tok, money && freedom.

dislikes: relationships, being held down, being told what to do, people putting their hands on her unless she’s calling the shots and being responsible for someone else’s well being.

quirks: talks to herself when she’s trying to figure something out (she got it from her brother), pulls herself away the moment feelings get involved or she gets too comfortable, gets blacked out everynight and wakes up with someone she doesn’t know, not knowing where she is, loves being on her own and having her quiet space to herself.

moral alignment: lawful neutral/sometimes lawful evil.

If you were to ask Delaney Meadows what she wanted, she’d simply stare, a glint of hope in her eyes as a mess of a smile sputtered across her lips, a blunt between her fingertips and the once word that slip between them would be “free”. Ever since she was younger, she’d never quiet... fit. Maybe it was the fact that her father hadn’t been present, chalking it up to the typical daddy issues trope before letting the thought slip into obscurity until the next time someone asked what the fuck was her problem. Nowhere, Kentucky; the name alone weaved the truth of what her life’s course had taken her, constantly drifting through as the ones that were supposed to car most simply slipped between her fingertips. An afterthought, that was the cursed middle syndrome main essence had been, hadn’t it? Always left to be the one thought of last, or at least, that’s the way it’d felt. Mom and dad, well, they hadn’t hung around long. Dad took the first chance he’d had to run for the hills, and mom well -- the shit show that Laney had become herself was enough of a storybook. 

It was never meant to turn out this way, her brother being her caretaker, a teacher taking the place of a father, and where was she? Floating. Doing what she could to bust her ass and take care of as much slack that was left behind as she could. She loved Aiden, really. He tried with her, but the more he reeled her in, the harder she fought against the line he’d cast out. So much potential, wasted. A smart girl, graduated at 17, one of the highest SAT and ACT scores in the country, acceptances to colleges with scholarships some would sell their newborns for and where would she take it? Anywhere but here. That life wasn’t for her, college and all this mundane bullshit. It was the last fight, that had been the main catalyst for her departure in the same cold manner as their parents, the one where she’d brought a boy home, nothing new, except this time, she’d gotten caught; that was the last time. If you’re so grown, get a job, get a hotel. The words played like a symphony on a never ending loop, so, that’s what she did -- except this time, she didn’t turn back.

Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and months turned to a year. All she had was a brain, her body, and a boy. One who’d taken every chance he could to remind her exactly what she’d been worth, the bruises on her body the proof of the so called love he’d shown her. But even through it all, she knew better. She’d suffered, yes. Experienced the anguish and the pain, but not out of love, out of convenience. Out of mere circumstance. A fast car, some cash -- it was your typical Bonnie and Clyde, except she wouldn’t let that tragedy unveil, so she did what she did best the moment she hit eighteen, she escaped his grasp and ran for the nearest club she could find. One where they’d welcomed her with opened arms and a plethora of suitors. It was perfect, really. But no matter how she’d tried to block that year from her memory database, the scars left their painful reminder, keeping her up at night and she swore -- if she stood in one place for too long, she could feel them flare in searing pain. So, she ran. Oregon was nice, peaceful and quiet -- what a fucking joke, then, Seattle. Better, but still, her heart yearned for California, whispers of a certain town that had a history of sin woven into it’s core called out to her. It was her mission, so she worked. 

She should’ve been happy, a bird finally breaking free of it’s flock, flying in it’s own direction, but still, the thought of her mother and father plagued her memories, the blows itching at her until it had turned her numb and fuck, all she wanted to do was feel again. Feel pain, feel anger, feel hopelessness even, but it was all for not. The drugs, the alcohol rolled in, rolling through her body as they breathed life back into her once more. Then came along Dayton. She wasn’t proud of how she’d gotten there, proud of the things she’d done on the side of bearing her naked body in the small quarters of the VIP rooms, but -- fuck it, survival of the fittest. Plan B was her, well, Plan B and she’d tell you to call her Angel, though she knew it was the furthest from the truth, though still it wiped behind the past she still begrudgingly left behind with nothing more than a series of letters and ignored calls. And even now, to this day, if you asked her what she’d aspired to be in her life, with a mind so full of potential, she’d simply smile, though the glint of hope dying with each moment -- she’d still whisper to you... free.