Post by Amelia Amery on Nov 16, 2009 23:13:08 GMT -1
Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome to the stage::
'Amelia!!
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The windows of my soul
are made of one way glass
don't bother looking into my eyes
if there's something you want to know,
just ask
I got a dead bolt stroll
where I'm going is clear
I don't have time for you to wonder
I'll just tell you why I'm here
Hold the press!!
Don't go wasting all your applause just yet, save some for Violet/Telly. They have been treading the floorboards for exactly 17 years and they have been totally female!! S/he has been in the spotlight roughly 5 years, and they're loving it!!
And now for the good stuff!!
We have a new kid on the block, going by the name of Amelia Analise Amery, but only their mother calls them that; you can call them Whisker! Rumour has it this dudette is a totally hoopy frood; so Mum's, lock up your sons!! They've been cruising the streets of Madison, Wisconsin for 21 years now, after coming into this god forsaken world on November 16th, 1987.
Here's the vitals!!
Race:: Vampyre
Special Abilities:: Forcefields and Persuasion (very good at saving her own ass)
Family:: Family of Blood
Position in the Family:: Non-participating member. As a Vampyre Amelia is neither entirely aware of nor interested in the family or the court.
The physical!!
The hair::Dirty blond with dark roots, worn in a messy shoulder length pponytail
The eyes:: Dark grey-blue
The body:: Average height and weight, semi curvaceous figure
The style:: She likes wool coats and scarves, which she wears until it's absolutely too hot. During late spring through summer she scrounges up a nondescript t-shirt and some denim shorts.
The looks::
Whisker (she goes by Whisker), so-called for a thin scar that adorns her left cheek, has a relatively ordinary appearance for a vampyre. She is not breathtakingly beautiful, nor of supermodel physique. She stands at 5'6", weighs in at 130lbs (9 stone/64kg), and wears a 32B. Whisker can generally be seen wearing a black buttoned wool sweater, a thick plaid scarf, skinny jeans, and converse without much variation.
The mental!!
The likes:: Coffee, Tea (particularly Chai), Cookies, Baking, Watching dog shows on TV, Russia/The Russian language
The dislikes:: The British accent, Bad smells, People who are cynical (despite being quite the cynic herself. She won't deny her hypocrisy), People who doubt her.
The hopes:: To get out of this godforsaken country, Preferably to Russia (is teaching herself Russian), to avoid drama and fighting/war.
The fears:: Being killed, of course, Whisker has a healthy sense of self preservation, Being injured in general, being stuck in England for the rest of her life.
The talents:: Whisker enjoys drawing and is a decent artist, makes a good Batista and is skilled at making lattes, has a way with people (when she feels like it).
The bad habits:: Chews herself (hair, hands, lip), can't focus and tends to zone out when being lectured, loses things.
The attitude::
Whisker is a generally carefree person. She lives life without many regrets (though she deeply regrets coming to England) and just does what she can to enjoy herself. She's usually an agreeable person unless severely provoked, in which times she has been known to retaliate both verbally and physically.
Whisker's favorite thing to do is party, and it can be said that she does not learn her lessons (see history), which is probably related to her severe case of chronic selective hearing and memory.
In social situations Whisker is laid-back. She goes into a conversation with an open mind and is generally very easy to get along with. There are few instances in which she would rather fight than talk something through, and most of them involve some seriously harsh words from the opposing party.
The rest!!
The parents:: Natalie and Johnathan Amery
The siblings:: Johnny (15), Sasha (15) <-- Fraternal brothers
The others:: Bernard Godfrey [Vampyre sire, friend-with-benefits, supplier of blood, and roommate]
The social class:: Middle/Lower
The history::
Amelia was born an American, Madisonian-Wisconsinite to be more specific. She was born to a Natalie and Johnathan Amery, both of which worked as elementary school teachers. They lived in a small two-bedroom apartment until Amelia was six or seven, at which time her fraternal twin brothers were born. They moved to a three-bedroom house across town.
Ten uneventful years later Amelia was a sophomore in high school. She got herself a job at a local cafe, which eventually became the birthplace of her nickname, Whisker. Despite being the origin of her lifelong sobriquet the incident merely involved a box placed upon a high shelf falling on her face at an unfortunate angle.
That same year Whisker (she picked up the nickname just as soon as the cut stopped bleeding profusely) decided to engage in foreign exchange. Her life in Wisconsin was boring, and besides, it looked great on a college application. Her first choice was Russia, which seemed like a pretty great place to go at the time. So did Switzerland, Poland, Germany, Portugal, and France. But that year was a good year in the foreign exchange industry, and Whisker was forced to go to England.
It wasn't until Whisker was 18 years old and a senior until she had actually raised the money needed to take the year-long trip. Initially she had been disappointed by England, but she had had enough time to convince herself that it would still be a good learning experience, if nothing else.
So off she went to the United Kingdom. Despite her worries and dread Whisker became quickly settled in with her host family, though they refused to call her by her preferred title. Perhaps her favorite part of her new country was the drinking age, which ultimately led to her downfall.
It was November 16, 2007, and Whisker was turning 19. She went out to a local bar with a few of her friends (she had had no trouble making those, many of her schoolmates found her exotic (much to her amusement)). Within two or three hours she found herself wasted beyond belief and wandering deliriously in search of her family's apartment. What found her was neither her family or the apartment, but a rather charming young man. He led her somewhere, she couldn't clearly recall the details, though she seemed to remember a small apartment with a few people sitting around.
He brought her into a bedroom, and she was by this point ripe with impure intentions. As was he, but their desires were not entirely mutual. The last thing Whisker remembered was the man dimming the lights, her wondering what his name was, and a sharp pain before everything went black.
When she awoke Whisker found herself lying in a bed, possibly the same one which she had passed out in. She had a killer headache (which she assumed was the result of a hangover) and there was the strangest smell in the air. Pale sunlight filtered through the blinds opposite her, but it was enough to temporarily blind her. After blinking dumbly for a few minutes she got a good look around. It was a normal bedroom, with a dresser, mirror, wardrobe, and bookcase lined along the walls. The bed she now propped herself unsteadily upon was maybe queen sized, and the blankets next to her were rumpled as if it had been shared with someone else. She shivered, trying to remember the events which had led her to be here.
Whisker's efforts to conjure memories of the previous night were in vain, and after perhaps ten more minutes of sitting in the dim room she decided she'd rather just go back to sleep, for clearly whoever the bed belonged to had no ill intentions for her. It was when she turned back to the pillow when she realized the source of the strange scent she'd noticed earlier. The pillow was stained in several places with blood.
It's been two years since that night, Whisker has lived with Bernard Godfrey (who she first properly met after bursting out of the bedroom in a fit of panic. After calming her down he explained her situation), and the police have stopped searching for her. Both her biological and adoptive host family believe her to be dead, which does not bother her nearly as much as it should. Whisker is still learning to cope with her Vampyric abilities and bloodlust. The desire for blood is only at a dull roar, as she has lived of animals supplied by Bernard and has not tasted human blood.
The rest!!
The RP sample::
The air was cold outside, Whisker could see her breath as she stared up into the dark sky. It dissipated before her eyes, quickly to be replaced with another breath. It felt nice too see the little cloud of air, Whisker thought, it made her feel human again. She turned her eyes back down as she climbed down the fire escape. She had to get out of this godforsaken apartment. Bernard asked too much of her sometimes, but he didn't seem to mind if when she disappeared for a few days-- She could go that long without his help, he knew. Yet he alays seemed so relieved to see her when she opened the door to their apartment, or 'flat,' as he so irritatingly called it.
The man had semi good intentions, but he was suffocating her. She had to get out once in a while. She had some money -- stupid euros-- so she could rent a hotel. Stay there for a little while. She wondered if they'd get suspicious if she frequented a single hotel too often. 'Probably think I'm a bused,' she thought, dropping onto the pavement of the alley below her apartment.
It was dark, yet Whisker could see perfectly. She shuddered. The abilities of a vampyre never ceased to... Disturb her. At least it was handy, she had avoided tripping over many a drunken hobo on her midnight excursions. Tonight was no exception. She dropped a twenty-note bill on the shoulder of a sleeping homeless man as she passed him, careful not to step on any of the many bottles laying around him. 'Like protection, what a metaphor,' she thought, frowning into the concrete as she hurried out of the alley.
[Sorry for kind of short example.. I just made it up on the spot, and I don't have time to make it longer. I can add more later if it's unacceptable.]
