Name: Lucía María Ramírez Delacosta
Preferred Name and Nickname(s): Answers only to Cia.
PB, if applicable: Liz Vicious
LJ/AIM: rebel-cia | ciadela
Age/DOB: 21, 12/31/1991.
Job or Role in Game: Clerk at Sheer Elegance
Appearance: http://celebsview.info/wp-content/uploads/Liz-Vicious-Feet-63977.jpgPhoto: http://images3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20071115005760/dangerstar/images/a/ab/Liz-vicious-goth-teen.jpgHistory/Bio: Lucia Ramírez Delacosta was born to Tomás Ramírez and Regina Delacosta, an unmarried on/off again couple in their late teens, at the very end of 1991. Literally. Had her delivery taken but 45 seconds longer, and she would likely have been the first New Year's Baby in the city.
Cia, as she prefers to be called, didn't have an easy start to life. Tomás took up with another woman, leaving baby Cia with Regina. Regina was ill-equipped to raise an infant on her own, when she was little more than a child herself, at barely 18. It didn't take long for Regina to develop a drug habit. It had started with a bit of pot here, a snort of cocaine there. By the time Cia was two, though, Regina was fully addicted, and working as a prostitute to support her habits, though not her daughter.
All it took was one wrong move--trying to pick up an undercover cop, and she was arrested. DCFS returned to the apartment to claim Cia from "the babysitter" only to find the toddler on her own, in squalid conditions. With Regina's indifference to her child, the living conditions in which she'd been found, and the fact that the little girl had been left alone, it had been relatively easy to have her placed into foster care. The problem isn't that it's hard to get into care, so much as it's damn near impossible to get out.
So Cia spent her formative years in foster care. She managed to escape the worst homes, which is not to say that all her homes were
good. Many were overcrowded, simply because the kids
needed a place to go. Cia needed attention. She didn't crave excess attention, just SOME attention. She acted out, a little, skipping classes occasionally, taking up smoking, though avoiding all street drugs--she was all too aware of her mother's path. One day, when she was wandering the streets killing time before going home "after school" Cia passed by a new storefront where a woman was draping fabric over another, before making a swift, sure cut. She watched the fabric drift to the floor, then looked up again. She'd been caught. It was school hours, she was clearly of school age, and this was, well... not school.
To her surprise, the woman didn't turn her in. She took her under her wing, and taught her about fashion, and clothing, and culture, and society. Cia flourished under her tutelage, where she had failed to at 'home'. She spent hours reading all manner of fashion and clothing magazines. She didn't dare dream of attaining high-society status. She was a street kid. And this was NOT My Fair Lady. But she could design clothes for society ladies. Cia had been gifted with one talent--she could draw. It was as though Nature, in her bewildering ways, took everything from a young girl, but gave her one talent to use to succeed, if she was able.
And able she was. Over the next three years, Cia learned, and drew, and even made some clothes. Then one day, shortly before her 16th birthday, came the news. Her mentor must leave. She hadn't satisfied visa requirements, and had to return to Spain.
Cia missed her, desperately, but continued moving forward instead of lapsing back. She had goals now. Life wasn't easy. Not by any means. She struggled with learning disorders, and changed schools as regularly as the moon changed phases. But she'd finally learned skills to survive.
After graduating, she worked in various retail positions--all involving clothing of some sort. She might not be able to make it, yet, but she could sell it.
RP Sample: The woman who had been crafting the fabric came out and spotted Cia, beckoning to her. Cia hurried away, afraid of being turned in. The woman persisted, calling to her as she started to hustle away. Cia turned, almost reluctantly. She shuffled back to the woman and stood before her meekly, though her only 'crime' was cutting class. In a heavily accented voice, the woman asked, 'You like to see the dresses made?' Cia was confused. 'The dresses? You like to watch them made?' she was asked again. Cia looked up, relaxing when she saw the woman's kind eyes. She was only 13, but even she knew that, on most people, it was always in the eyes. She nodded shyly, following the woman into the shop. Sitting down, she watched a shapeless piece of cloth become a beautiful evening dress. 'I want to do that,' she whispered, transfixed.
