Post by KENNEDY LINDA RAMONE on Feb 5, 2013 16:25:16 GMT -5
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[style=width:350px; font-family: josefin sans; font-size: 30px; letter-spacing: 0px; text-align:center; color: #000; line-height: 80%; text-transform: uppercase; padding-bottom: 5px;]KENNEDY LINDA RAMONE
CITIZEN. SID. TAYLOR MOMSEN. PROMOTER. 20. CYNICAL. SARCASTIC. TEASE.
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,386,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, width:130px; height: 200px; background-image: url(http://i49.tinypic.com/f9obo.png);][/style] | [style=height: 180px; overflow: auto; font-size: 9px;]FULL NAME: Kennedy Linda Ramone NICKNAME(S): Kenny, K D.O.B.: February 14, 1993 PARENTS: Jackson Dayton Ramone, Julia Regina Ramone (deceased) SIBLINGS: None HOMETOWN: Boston, Massachusetts During Kennedy's childhood, she had always assumed that life as the daughter of the district attourney would be something more like what she saw in the pages of comic books or in cartoons, filled with excitement and breaking news cases that earned her father praise and rewards from officials and citizens alike. The truth of the matter was that life was nothing like Batman, and often times she found herself alone with her dolls and doing her best to mind her own business. Her father always seemed to be completely engrossed in whichever case he was working, be it taking down racketeers or putting away men that people could think of no way to describe to her but "bad". According to her mother, her father was much like Batman in the sense that he always did the right thing and helped bring the supposed bad guys to justice, but to the little girl his supposed good deeds did no good to her when he was just as fictional in her life as one of her precious comic book characters. Even when her father was at home he was locked away in his office with his desk completely covered in papers, the bright colors of highlighters mangling the crisp white and black. She could recall ballet recitals that he never attended, the kindergarten graduation that he so elegantly stepped out of to speak on his phone for over two hours with a detective working some case or another that he had of course become involved in. Time had passed and her father had become even more distant with herself and her mother, his work consuming every moment of his life that he wasn't sleeping or drinking scotch. Eventually, her mother grew tired of his inability to be a real father or a loving husband and packed up her bags bringing her daughter with her. Even with the distance that was now put between herself and her father, he still managed to find his ways of completely controlling the female's life...be it by paying to assure that she say in private school or even enrolling her in tutoring sessions and college preperatory sessions outside of school. Without her father in the picture, Kennedy's mother attempted to allow to give the child some freedom though she never really seemed to make friends outside of the private school snobs who only seemed to want to be friendly with the female because of who her father was. According to Jackson, they were the best and the brightest and the future of America, though following in her father's footsteps had never actually been a dream of the female. For the first few years of the divorce her mother and herself remained in close distance to her father to help him keep up appearances and keep at least somewhat of an image of a happy family, however broken that family might have been. It wasn't until Kennedy graduated from high school that she truly saw any ounce of freedom, being shipped across state lines to attend Brown University which had been all too entralled to welcome the female into its ivy league ranks. Before long she found herself shying away from the prim and proper lifestyle, her attention skewing more to the strange artistic students milling around the lawns of RISD or even the carefree non-university students of RIC that always seemed to litter the streets of the east side of Providence, burning through endless cups of bubble tea and checking out the newest underground musicians at The Spot. School was beginning to be less about the education and more about spending time with her new and unusual friends taking in shows at Club Hell before the closing and singing karaoke at Gallery on ladies night. The grades were slipping, and Kennedy's fascination with the performing arts was growing further. Her distance from her parents seemed to be the thing that she needed to truly develop her own identity in a world where no one cared or even knew the name of the attorney general, save for a few politician wannabees who knew everything that there was to know about the issues in New England. In Providence, it seemed to be that the only crimes to worry about were getting your iPod stolen or buying some pot laced with PCP. Or, at least, that was what Kennedy thought. The sound of the gun was louder than she could have ever imagined, the screams of those on the streets by the mall even louder as they all fell too the ground for cover, leaving a horrified girl to stand wide eyed as she stared at the hole in the concrete where the bullet had just barely made it past the side of her head. It had been the first time she had ever been fired at, and if it hadn't been for a rather colorful young man in an ICP shirt knocking into her on his way up to Hottopic, it would have been the last thing that ever happened to her. Soon after, the news came of her mother's death, and it was explained to her that the family of a powerful man her father had put in jail were seeking to eliminate his family like he had eliminated theirs. Barely even a week later she was returning to Boston under her father's orders. |