For this little challenge: Coral.
Skin: -Glam Affair- Monica Tan TRD 28
Shape: My own
Make-Up: cheLLe (eyeliner) EyePop Lime
Make-Up: *BOOM* Hard Candy – Pink Sugar
Hair: Raspberry Aristocrat – Dulciana – Brown Bittersweet
Eyes: .ID. December Gift / BlueGreen
Top: JANE – Femme.lace Cami – Pink Blush
Skirt: JANE – Maxi Skirt – Lillith – Blush (fair) *MESH*
Shoes: Maitreya Gold * YaXkin Cocoa Sandals
Earrings: [Aura] Down Pour – Melon *VIP Group Gift*
Necklace: MIEL – UVA – Coral *Group Gift*
Location: The Dreamer’s Islands
Listening: Silence (It’s Sunday Morning)
Maybe what should be noticed about Isabella Maria Radcliff is the intensity of her eyes. Her mother always said that her eyes could bring down the most worthiest of opponents if ever in a cat fight. Maybe it was true, but the woman that would step onto the island not even a few months after her thirty-second birthday hadn’t even thought of those words in years.
Isa was born to Paula Ora Carlona, a Cassava native and John Michael Radcliff, a British Navy Captain, on June 7th, 1979. Life on Cassava was a child’s playground – the beach, the sun and the wild. War, chaos and hunger lingered in the air but for a child, she would ignore as much as she could, or as much as her mother would hide it from her. Even when those in the cantina would shout and argue about the El Generale and his men, the dissatisfaction of the people. No money. No food. Where was her father?
At the age of ten, she was shipped off to London to live with her father and stepmother for each school year, as stated in the divorce papers signed by both parents during the joint custody hearings. Her summers would be spent upon the Cassava Islandduring the first couple years, but as she grew older, she came home less often, opting to spend her summers in the English countryside, or to travel off to France or to America. She had the advantages she knew others did not have, so she was bound to take them – why not. Who wanted to go back to a place that was so distraught and torn?
Upon graduating from high school, Isa decided to stay on, attending the London College of Fashion. Each and every semester, her excuses would get more elaborate on not wanting to return to the island, much to her mother’s dismay – and even to her own father’s. It was like she shunned the overall entity that was her culture. By the age of twenty-four, Isa finally returned to Cassava, only because her grandfather – her mother’s father – had passed away, and her mother had now been handed the reigns of the family business.
Many years would pass by that time. Isa’s life would be what she deemed she wanted, buying textiles and fabrics for the fashion houses in London. The world she knew in Cassava would only exist in letters she would receive from her mother, which she would now and then respond to around the holidays, sending money and gifts in exchange for her absences. It wasn’t until the day her father showed up at her flat that rainy Sunday afternoon to tell her…
…which landed her back at the door of the cantina, her mother – all but gone.