<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/db2ue3C.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Isabelle Bellucci<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Morning<br/><strong>Activity:</strong>Heading to Orientation<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Pantsuit (http://imgur.com/sxmVKAX)<br/>The buxom black haired beauty sat in the back of the Lincoln that had picked her up, and played with her nails. Isabelle was nervous. Isabelle was a baker, she liked to be by herself kneading dough, icing cakes, she did not like making business plans and trying to convince a man that she barely knew to allow her to open up a bakery but that was exactly what she had to do. One slightly tanned hand snuck out, touching the black briefcase beside her that contained all of her business plans. Slowly she let out a long breath, doing her best to bring her heartrate down.<br/><br/>Isabelle had chosen her best outfit, the red silk blouse ruffled around her breasts but didn’t hide their size while the tan dress pants showed the length of her long legs and the curve of her bodacious rear. Having been awake for hours before the town car had even come for her. The twenty-eight year old felt as if she were sixteen asking to borrow the car for the first time. Sitting in front of her vanity mirror, probably for the last time, she had carefully curled her long locks, painted her full lips a dark shade of red, applied a line of black liner, curled her eyelashes perfectly, even painted her nails. All in attempts to calm her nerves. If she looked commanding and poised, perhaps she would come across as commanding and poised.<br/><br/>Isabelle had down her research, or at least, as much as she could do. The community she was being sent to had a Bakery, one that wasn’t being used even. From what Isabelle could see, from the floor plan she has specifically requested for that building, as well as the picture that had been provided it had an apartment above it. That only made it more perfect for her. That was also part of her argument. She could live, and work, in the same space. Which would leave more room for others to live in the community. If that failed, Isabelle didn’t know what she was going to do. Though she didn’t think that she would fail either.<br/><br/>The jacket that she wore was open, not closed and Isabelle played the with hem of it for a moment before the car came to a stop. Grabbing the briefcase she murmured a thank you to the driver before throwing her long leg out of the door. He had brought her to a building which she assumed was the auditorium where orientation would be held. A reassuring breath, Isabelle stood up tall and walked into the building, her hips swaying, her hair bouncing serenely, and the smallest of smiles on her ruby lips.