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marianne webb
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full name: marianne lorraine webb.
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nick name(s): mari, mare.
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age: twenty seven.
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birthday: june sixteenth.
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grade/occupation: free loader socialite.
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hometown: los angeles, california.
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parents: simon webb, 65. eliza kirke, 51.
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siblings: alec webb, half brother.
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marital status: single.
name/alias: mac 2.0
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age: seventeen.
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face claim: natasha poly.
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member group: locals.
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contact: my aim is: hittheroadmack add me. i don't bite.
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other: i beez in the trap.
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<center><div class="appstyle3">What's your home life like?</div></center><p><div style="padding: 0 5 5 5px">
"Fucked."
Smiles crookedly, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. "But really, what do you expect? Daddy's a hot-shit actor, and my mom's been off the deep-end so many times Slice offered her a reality show. Okay, it's not that bad. I mean, mom
did get offered a show, but she's really not that mental, at least not yet. And I love my dad, honestly. He's fucking amazing as far as I'm concerned. It's definitely some Brady Bunch shit going on in my house though. My dad, Simon Webb? I know you've heard of him. Anyways, he married my mom when she got knocked up with little ol' me. They'd been dating for few years before hand, so it wasn't like my grandpa was marching Dad up the aisle with the barrel of a shot gun shoved into his back, but if it hadn't been for me I don't think they would have gotten hitched. I mean, mom was twenty-four and dad was thirty-eight. Look at Ashton and Demi. Age gaps like that don't work out in the long run. My parents enjoyed a few years of marital bliss, and then the honey-moon phase wore off and they filed for divorce on my third birthday. Good fucking present, hey? I'm actually serious, I'm glad they split. If they hadn't dad would have never met his third, and so far last, wife, and I wouldn't have a baby brother to terrorize. Dad and mom were supposed to have equal custody, but I ended up spending a lot more time at Dad's. Mom had been a bit actress before her relationship with dad, you know the girl who pours coffee in a 10 second clip and gets credited as "blonde waitress #3," which no one reads anyways because you're 5 minutes into the credit roll by then? After the divorce though, mom was on fire. The ex-wife of award winning Simon Webb was hot news, and everyone wanted to know the juicy deets. Mom dug her manicured claws into those fifteen minutes of fame and somehow she's managed to stretch them out for the last 24 years. My mom has managed to get her face into every major film out there. Not the award winning, artsy kind of shit like dad, but like, the films that end up with fucking pre-teens jacking off to sparkling vampires. Of course, being Hollywood's leading lady, or at least the nice pair of tits in the latest Bond film didn't leave a lot of time for parenting, so I stayed with Dad a lot. He remarried shortly after, and a little after I turned five, Anne popped out Alec, and the rest is history."
Laughs, grinning. "I fucking love that kid. I've never thought of him of being my 'half' brother. He's just always been my baby bro. Anything important that kid learned in life, I'll bet'cha I taught it to him. After he went off to Ellison I moved out of Dad's and started doing my own thing. My own thing hasn't really been working out so hot, but that's another story. Dad seems to think I'm twelve and he can still ground me, so here I am. Right now I'm crashing at Alec's place, but I don't know how long that'll last. You try living with fucking college boys."
</div><p><center><div class="appstyle3">What's your favourite colour? Why? </div></center><p><div style="padding: 0 5 5 5px">
"Red. It looks amazing on me."
Laughs, shaking her head. "I'm not even fucking with you. I look hot in red. Do I need another reason to like it? Hell, I don't know. It's the colour of passion and some shit, right? Red's sexy, it's powerful. People notice you in red. Everyone's so uptight in their professional black and white penguin suits, it's
boring. When I go out, I want to grab your attention, I want to be seen. All those wallflowers in their beiges and nudes and pastels. Who's going to remember them? Right, nobody."
</div><p><center><div class="appstyle3">What is your greatest weakness?</div></center><p><div style="padding: 0 5 5 5px">
"Dimples."
Bites her lip with a bit of a smirk, pausing for a moment. "Especially asymmetrical ones. Oh, they're just so cheeky. You can't go wrong with a nice dimpled man. Hell, you can't go wrong with a nice dimpled lady either. Miranda Kerr? I would be on that Australian ass in a heart beat if she turned those dimples on me and I'm straight as a motherfucking ruler. Can't stop thinking about that now, can you perv?"
Winks, laughing again. "You probably want some kitschy, fluffy answer about my 'inner weaknesses,' don't you?"
Makes air quotes with her fingers as she speaks, rolling her eyes. "Well you're asking the wrong person. Why would I tell you what's wrong with me? Go ask my dad, or one of my exes. I'm sure they can regale you with all sorts of stories. Oh, fuck it. I'll tell you anyways. Least then it's coming from my mouth. I'm impulsive. I don't like to think, I like to do. You're only young once, why would I waste the short bit of youth I have left thinking about the consequences. One of my favourite sayings is that it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission. Not that I'd ask for permission anyways. I don't need anyone telling me what to do, it's my life, I've live it the way I want. I guess that could be another one of my weaknesses. I don't give a damn about what people think of me, but your reputation can make you or break you in LA. A couple times the things I've said offhand have come around and bit me in the ass, but so what? Some B-list actress is ass hurt because not sugar-coating how bad her nose job looks? Fine. Truth hurts, some people need to learn how to handle it."
</div><p><center><div class="appstyle3">Are you more of a dog person or cat person? </div></center><p><div style="padding: 0 5 5 5px">
"Neither. Pets are a lot of fucking work! You've got to feed 'em and clean 'em, and take 'em for walks and ugh. They're barely a step down from kids. I don't have the time, or the attention span for pets. I tire of things really quickly, always have, and I can't see myself finding an animal interesting for more than a coupe months. Then they'd just start being a burden. When I was eight, dad bought me one of those Chinese Fighting fish. You know, they're super pretty but they go fucking ape-shit when you put a mirror up to tank. Anyways, I think I had this fish for maybe 6 weeks before it was belly-up. I had just gotten bored with it, and over time, taking care of it became less and less of a priority. I got distracted with other things, and before I knew it, Splash was taking a trip down the LA sewer system. After the fish, my dad knew better than to cave to any of my demands for a puppy, or a kitten, or the pony I asked for for my tenth birthday. Actually, I think I asked for a unicorn, but, same deal. I'm glad he did, or I'd probably have PETA all over my ass for animal abuse. It's just not my thing. I'm sure it works out great for other people, and if living with fifty cats is what gets some poor girl off, I'm not going to interfere. Different things for different people, so long as I don't have to deal with it."
</div><p><center><div class="appstyle3">Is there anyone special in your life?</div></center><p><div style="padding: 0 5 5 5px">
"Not since I caught the bastard fucking some music video hoe in my own bed. I was never a relationship person. It's a lot like the pet thing. I don't have the attention span. I'm still young, I want to have my fun still. I mean, I'm not saying I'm opening my legs for every dimpled cutie who comes my way, but I wasn't tying myself. Nothing ever got serious. We had our fun, played our games and parted ways when things got routine. That's how it's always been, always how I've done it, up until two years ago. Bastard's actually most of the reason I'm in this place. Johhny, his name was Johhny, was a music producer. I met him at some premiere party for my dad. He finagled a bottle of Goose from the bar somehow and we spent most of the evening in the back parking lot drinking and just bullshitting with each other. He was real smooth, one of those bad boys who you know is just going to make your toes curls with a one look. Dad hated him, which only made him that much more fun. We started dating, then one day, a couple months into our relationship we were just screwing around in his basement with his recording equipment. Johnny showed it to some people, they saw money in it and suddenly I'm in a real studio, recording something someone wrote for me and out of no where I had a 'music career.'
Pauses, grinning crookedly. "I'm not stupid. I know everything about my music was manufactured. I'm a Webb. You slap my name on compost and it'll sell out in a day. I didn't care though. I wasn't just Simon Webb's and Eliza Kirke's daughter who occasionally acted out and got an inset box in People Magazine. I was Mari Webb, chart-topping artist with a 4 page spread in Teen Vouge. Things were good. My life was good. And then I come home to find the stripper down Lil Wayne's last music video in between my own Egyptian cotton sheets, showing Johnny 'how to love.' After that, everything kind of fell apart. We broke up, and because of his rather significant influence over the recording company, my singing career suddenly just started to dry up. When my career started falling apart, I started falling apart. My harmless teenage shenanigans started reaching Lohan levels of extreme, and that's when dad decided to interfere and exile me. I've only been here for a few weeks, but so far it looks like Canterbury's got slim pickings. I don't think I'll be finding a new special someone any time soon."
</div><p><center><div class="appstyle3">What do you want to be when you grow up?</div></center><p><div style="padding: 0 5 5 5px">
"Happy. That's right. Have your Lennon dose of the day. I really do love that though. It doesn't matter what you're doing, as long as you love it, right? I'll admit, I've always been kind of direction-less with what I wanted to make of myself. When I was five, I had convinced myself I was going to be a ballerina, despite never having a single ballet lesson in my life. I also had an actress phase, where I wanted nothing more than to be just like my parents. Mom even managed to convince her agent to promote me and when I was eleven I performed my very first, and last, role in the pilot of some show NBC picked up for half a season before dropping it. After that, I really had no idea what to do with myself. I turned 27 a few weeks ago and I know most people have this shit figure out by now, but there's really nothing I've gotten passionate about yet. My 'singing career' was for shits and giggles, nobody was taking that seriously. It was just a way to pass time. Who knows. Maybe something in Canterbury will grab my attention. Time will tell."
</div><p><center><div class="appstyle3">Introvert or extrovert? Why?</div></center><p><div style="padding: 0 5 5 5px">
"Extrovert! No doubt about it. I love people. I like being in the atmosphere of things. You know when you're feeling a little down, a little tired and you go out and with the right crowd the energy just boosts you back up again? I love that. I love interacting with people, and meeting all sort of different characters. I lived in LA. Everyone there has a story, they've got something to tell you. I don't like being on my own. It's lonely. Yes, spending a lazy Sunday all to yourself is great, and I'll admit to having my fair share of those myself, but I like being around people. Even if I'm doing nothing more than sitting and watching whatever late night movie W is playing, I'd rather do it with someone else sitting on the couch with me. I just find the presence of other people comforting. Is that weird? Probably, I don't know. I never got to the point where dad wanted to hire me a therapist. Close, but not quite. Which is probably a good thing. I don't think I want to know what's going on up in my head. Ignorance is bliss, right?"
</div><p><center><div class="appstyle3">If you had only six months left to live, what would you do with the time?</div></center><p><div style="padding: 0 5 5 5px">
"Fuck shit up."
Grins, laughing softly. "I'm serious. If you already know you're going to kick the bucket no matter what you do, why wouldn't you do whatever the fuck you wanted? Even if it's stupid dangerous, like, sky-diving, or bungee jumping, it doesn't matter anymore. If you die, whatever. You just cut down the process by a couple of months. I do have one of those bucket list things though, and I guess there's a couple things I'd like to be able to cross off it before I croak. Let's see...what's on it."
Hold up her hands, ticking off on her fingers as she recollect them. "Sleep with Chris Hemsworth. Sky-dive. What else...Oh! I'd love to spend a day on the gondolas in Venice. Have you ever been to Italy? I haven't, but it sounds amazing. I think I'd like to travel a lot before I die. There's a lot I have seen. I've gone on plenty of trips, but they've always been to the big tourist spots. London, Paris, Sydney. I think I'd like to try going somewhere a little less visited. Russia, maybe. I hear Cape Town is beautiful. What else do I want to do...kiss the Blarney stone maybe? I don't know. I haven't really thought about death much. Partially because I'm still fairly young, but also because, why dwell on the inevitable? Everyone dies. That's just a fact. Some day we're all going to be six feet under and there's nothing we can do to stop it, so why worry about it? I just focus on today. I just want to live my life now, and not because I've got some 50 tasks I want to cross off before I die, but because it's something I want to do. I don't want to plan it all out, I just want to grab at the opportunities when they happen to pop up!"
</div><p><center><div class="appstyle3">If you found a genie in a bottle, what would you wish for?</div></center><p><div style="padding: 0 5 5 5px">
"Genies are three wishes, right? Okay, easy. One; Chris Hemsworth in my bed."
Smirks, winking playfully before continuing. "I don't know. Maybe I'd wish for some direction. I mean, I love my life right now. I'm young, I'm having fun, I don't want anything to change immediately but sometime down the road, things are going to change, and I'm not really sure how things are going to turn out. Looking into that crystal ball, my future's pretty murky. I don't want everything planned out, with some fucking Ten Year Achievement Goal to be married and have two rugrats and some white picket-fenced house, but I can't see having a little bit of an idea of what I want would be a bad thing."
Shrugs, shifting a little uncomfortably and clearing her throat. "I don't though. Might be a waste of a wish. Anyways, third wish. Uh...hell, I won't be selfish. World peace. That's what everybody wants, right? Can you imagine world peace? It's a pretty foreign concept, hey?"
</div><p><center><div class="appstyle3">What are some of your likes? Dislikes?</div></center><p><div style="padding: 0 5 5 5px">
"What do you mean? Like interests and favourite foods or like, things I like about people and the world? I'll do both. Things I like would be...dimples, accents, fashion, owls, Karl Lagerfeld, coffee, strawberries and...Harry Potter. Dislikes would be licorice, onions, reptiles, and country music. Oh! And jeggings! Something I really like about people in general is when they're honest. I like when people are upfront. Don't sugar coat anything for me. I'll respect you a lot more if you respect me and tell it to me as it is. If you've got a problem to me, say it. Then it's out on the open and it can't be dealt with. I hate when people are fake. Don't act like my best friend and then bitch behind my back. I have a lot of respect for people who aren't afraid of the truth. A thing I can't stand if when people abuse trust. I'm a fairly accepting person. I'll give anyone a chance, and a lot of the times I'll give you a second chance if you fuck things up, but don't think you can just keep playing me. I don't like being used, and I won't let anyone walk all over me. I hate when people can't stand up for themselves. It's sad."
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