NameThalita Bianchi
NickamesTali
Age17, born on September 22, 2000
GenderFemale
SexualityHeterosexual
Relationship Status”Who needs labels?”
Single
Label”Oh, well, guess some people do.”
Artsy
Appearance Details- Hair: Dark Brown/Peach | Straight | Her pillow is her official hairstylist, but occasionally she’ll style it in loose waves
- Eyes: Brown
- Height: 5’8”
- Body Type: Slender
- Clothing Style: Unusual; favoring any kind of clothing that allows her to express her creative side, she likes to mix grunge, vintage and alternative fashions, her wardrobe being composed in great part by items she found in thrift shops
- Makeup Wise: Coming up with elaborate and unusual makeup looks is one of her favorite pastimes
- Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: Pierced earlobes
Personality TraitsFree Spirited ☍ Curious ☍ Open Minded ☍ Creative ☍ Spontaneous ☍ Impulsive ☍ Inattentive ☍ Emotional ☍ Careless
Upbringing SynopsisIt was the first day of Spring when she was born. There was a soft breeze that carried the pollen, the fresh and flowery smell flying through the streets of the small town, whispering the rise of spring and birth of Thalita Bianchi. Her parents, Carlos Bianchi and Andreia Müller, had known each other since childhood in the Ukrainian-colonized rural town at the South of Brazil. They fell in love quickly at a young age and, in their twenties, decided to get married. Not too long after that Thalita was brought into the world.
Growing up, she was a passionate kid, in love with the country and nature and all the beauty the world had to offer. It didn’t take much to make the little girl happy. Running through the golden sea of the wheat plantations or sitting at the top of a hill and doing nothing more than watching the soy waving with the wind filled the girl’s heart with joy. Most of the time that’s what she’d prefer doing instead of spending time with the noisy kids at the playground. Why, if she could hear the birds singing just for her in the quietude of the countryside? She didn’t acquire that habit solely by herself, however. Her father would take her with him on his photographic expeditions, often using the young and energetic girl as the subject of his photographs; but landscapes was where he really showed the pure gift he had. And through him Thalita discovered her vocation. While her father waited for the golden hour, the perfect wind speed or the exact pose of an animal, she’d doodle in a small sketchbook. Soon she was painting the same landscapes her father photographed. She’d use his photographs to improve her paintings, extracting that small but crucial detail lost in memory, and he’d borrow her eye to details otherwise lost in the entirety of the scenery.
Saying Thalita and Carlos got along well wouldn’t begin to cover it. The girl was never close to her mother, who had the busy life of a nurse, never confiding in her that small crush she had for a classmate or the tears of anger when the girls at school made fun of her clothes. She knew she could always count on her father to listen and make a silly joke or tickle her until the sadness went away. That didn’t mean, on the other hand, that she didn’t have a good relationship with Andreia. It was just the case that mother and daughter didn’t share much in common.
They lived that happy life until, when she was at the age of 13, the Bianchi family moved to the United States, establishing themselves directly in San Francisco. Carlos and Bianca were concerned for the girl, afraid the cultural shock would be too much for her, but despite missing her family, she knew she would never trade the lively and energetic San Francisco for the small Ukrainian town in the interior of Brazil. As much as she loved the vast green and golden ocean of the fields from her hometown, she fell in love with the inumerous natural and man-made wonders of her new home. Her artistic and creative nature adapted quickly to the region. For the first time in her life she blended in, able to express herself like never before. With that newly discovered artistic liberty, she dedicated herself deeply to drawing and painting. During some time her parents suggested she got into digital painting, but she refused. No; she wanted to smell the paint, feel the brush on her hands, make mistakes that she couldn’t undo with the mere push of two buttons and hear the calming sound of the graphite scratching the paper.
Everything was perfect under Thalita’s eyes, but no one knew that that blissful life had an expiration date. So when her parents announced the divorce, she struggled to understand. They never argued, never fought or showed any signs of being unhappy. Turned out they simply weren’t in love anymore and were ending everything amicably. When she was 15 years old her mother remarried and moved to the other side of the country. She married a wealthy, widowed lawyer that lived in Palm Beach, Florida. Correction: who lived in Crown Heights, the exclusive part of the town, a place that she’d never even dare to dream of. He had a daughter one year younger than Thalita and they adopted a dog named Toddy. Mark Hughes wore fancy dress shirts and slacks at home and her mother changed everything about her personality and style. Even the dog’s collar had costed more than Thalita’s fanciest party dress. Only once she visited the place and that was enough for her to know she would never fit in in a place like that.
For three years she lived with her father, attending art courses and even learning the basics of photography, which she’d integrate in her paintings. Until, of course, the incident. Her grandmother had turned ill. Cancer, they said. With her grandfather having already passed many years earlier, Carlos, as the only son, returned to Brazil to tend to his mother. The girl then was forced to move to the place she disliked the most and live with people that had nothing to do with her. Fortunately her academical record and her step-father’s money would grant her a place at King’s Academy, the most prestigious school she never wanted to attend. Once again her life had changed drastically, except that this time Thalita wasn’t thanking anyone.
FamilyCarlos Bianchi, Father (FC: Rob Benedict) | Andreia Hughes, Mother (FC: Elizabeth Banks) | Mark Hughes, Stepfather (FC: Jon Hamm)
Clarissa Hughes, Stepsister (FC: Bella Thorne) | Toddy, Dog (FC: Random internet doggo?) Misc.It’s not uncommon for her to use paint-stained clothes or to have paint on her hair. She also usually carries a small sketchbook with her.