Post by Terra Maritz on Aug 13, 2008 19:22:02 GMT -5
` behind blue eyes
` drop that 808
` the walls begin to shake!
>> and let's add some random shit.
name;; Katie
age;; 538,091,694 seconds (17 years)
experience;; 6 years
time zone;; 5 Eastern
password;; NO PAASSWORDUHHH
` drop that 808
name;; Terra Cori Maritz
nicknames;; "That Earthen Girl", "Terra Firma"
age;; 15
date of birth;; September 14, 1992
species;; Halfbreed (Nymph x Human)
year;; Freshman
sexual orientation;; Straight
occupation;; Student
face claim;; None
general appearance;; Upon first glance, it's easy to see that Terra isn't your average girl. She maxes out at a petite 5'1", and isn't quite on the skinny side, though she certainly isn't obese either. She is a natural blonde, though she won't deny getting highlights to make it look more bold, and to cover up that lock of white hair. Her eyes are a deep cobalt blue in the cooler months, but when it gets warmer, her eyes get a bit lighter.
It is rare to see Terra in a long sleeved or mid-length sleeved shirt, or anything shorter than pants. She is sensitive to things that cover her arms, and she doesn't want anyone to see the scar on her leg. A white watch is clasped to her wrist at all times, besides when she showers, of course. She never takes it off, and if someone touches it, it is not unlike her to lash out at them and hurt them.
general personality;; Terra is a complicated person. She reacts differently with everyone, depending on how they react with her. If she encounters a friendly soul, she will be quiet, but friendly as well. If she meets with a person that mocks her, like most do, her temper shortens and she is easily aggravated. If she is around someone she can't figure out, she is reserved and solitary.
Terra never, ever starts a conversation, though she will gladly finish it. She is very protective of herself, and if anyone tries to violate her, or if they make her angry or upset, she protects herself. When she suffers from extreme emotions, no matter what the emotion is, she loses control of her geokinesis and has a difficult time regaining control. Therefore, she has to make herself appear as a hard shell, which obviously turns many people off.
Though she longs for a romantic relationship, she fears what will happen to her partner if she should fall too far in love. But she hopes that, by coming to the Academy, she will gain control of her powers and actually be able to have a boyfriend.
likes;; Sweet, solid ground
cats
the beach
art
sand castles
flying squirrels.
dislikes;; People who judge her because of her heritage
birds
her mother
her step father
her half sister
high winds
history class
fears;; Tornadoes
owls
whales
quirks;; Her leg bounces when she sits down, and she can't go anywhere without her watch
secrets;; she believes there is someone trying to kill her, she has a long scar on her leg from a knife wound, and though she is half nymph, she has never actually seen a nymph
magyck;; Geokinetic, though she has a problem with controlling her kinesis
family members;; Cristine-mother (deceased)
Kiko-half sister (mortality unknown)
Gordon-step father (deceased)
Jesse-the father she never met
history;; Terra was born to a Mortal woman named Cristine. Cristine was only 16 when she gave birth to her daughter, and was a single mother. She had had a fling with an older Nymph a year before, but when the Nymph had found out he had gotten Cristine pregnant, he left her.
For a year, it was just Terra and her mother. Cristine worried over her child, and what her Nymph blood might do to her. But at first, everything seemed normal. Terra was a happy child, and though a bit small, she seemed to fit in with the other young children well.
But it was not to last. A few days after Terra's first birthday, Cristine met a young man named Gordon. Though Terra was just a year old, she immediately despised the man. He was tall, mean, and had frightening eyes. But, still incapable of speech, she kept quiet.
After Terra turned three, her mother and Gordon had a child. As she had hated Gordon, Terra hated her new sister. The girl had her father's eyes, but looked more like Cristine than Terra did. But still the blonde girl kept quiet.
After her mother and Gordon got married, however, Terra could hold in her anger no longer. The day her step father moved in, the half breed threw a tantrum, bringing to light what her mother had dreaded for so long. As the girl screamed on the front lawn, small clumps of grass and dirt arose from the ground and rocketed toward the source of the aggression. Gordon and his daughter. No matter how hard Cristine tried to calm her young child, the hard rocks continued to buffet the two humans, until both required medical attention.
Nine years passed without another...severe...accident. Rocks still flew every now and again, but Gordon, his wife, and their child learned ways to defend themselves and end the screaming before it got out of control. Sedatives worked relatively quickly, they found. For Terra, her life passed in a fog. During those nine years, she was either asleep due to the sedatives, or groggy from the side effects.
And once again, enough was enough.
It was Terra's twelfth birthday. Her mother had locked away the sedatives, promising her daughter a nice, calm, fully-conscious birthday. Gordon wasn't happy with the idea, but Cristine found a way to convince him. Terra simply smiled, promising to be a good girl.
The day went by well. Kiko and her father stayed out of sight of Terra, while Cristine gave her daughter a beautiful white watch as a present. But all too soon, it was time to blow out the candles on the cake. Cristine insisted that all family members be present for the happy occasion, and though Gordon wasn't happy with it, he resigned. Standing with his wife between him and the "abomination", he watched on as the candles were blown out.
The young daughter, never comfortable in the dark, scrambled to find the lights. When screams echoed through the obsidian blackness, she searched more frantically. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, the knowledge of what had just happened all too obvious.
When the lights were cut on, both girls screamed bloody murder. And a bloody double murder it was.
When Terra awoke on what she assumed was the next day, she found herself surrounded by white. A large blue curtain hung lazily beside her, and an IV snaked out of her arm. She sat up carefully, used to the effects of the sedation. As she shook her head clear of the blurs, she remembered what had happened. It hadn't been her fault, she knew. But she blamed herself anyway. She had killed her mother. Oh, and her step father. Couldn't forget about that evil creature, could we?
Not wasting another moment, Terra rushed out of the hospital, refusing to stop for anyone that called her name. When she reached the streets, she continued to run, headed in whatever direction seemed fastest.
It was dusk before she stopped moving, and by that time she had figured out it hadn't been just a day since the murders. It had been an entire year. There were only three things she could be sure of now. She was thirteen, her parents were dead, and a lock of hair had turned white. Beyond that, she wasn't sure of anything.
For a year she wandered the earth, exploring the countries of the world by the skin of her nose. When she was fourteen, she settled down in Germany, getting a job as a stablegroom in a fancy barn. For a year she worked there, finally getting enough money to enroll in a school she had heard of long ago.
post sample;; (this is a post I made on the site Dustari. If you would like the link to the site, or if you want me to post with Terra, I will)
Her mind was like a diary, in a way. It held an infinite number of pages, yet it held no mass. She had even decided on a color for it. A dark pink, near purple. It carried a few stains of bloodshed, mostly in the corners where blood-coated flesh had touched it to turn the page. And on each page was the musings of a single day. Each day was written in a new ink, depending on the events. Good days were usually a catchy, bright color. Bad ones were usually a bleak opposite. Though, for special occasions, those colors would change. With the death of her first lover, the words were written in a brazen ice blue, the color of his eyes. The day her sister was born, the writing was a sullen beige, signifying the unique braiding of her tassels in contrast to her sleek white pelt. The day she made friends with the young Samurai, the words were a dark chestnut, again signifying the beautiful color of the filly. And the day she was traded to her previous owner was a glowing yellow, the color of evil.
She had each month numbered as a chapter, though none came with titles. Titles were useless, in her opinion. How could you sum an entire month's worth of occurrences in a compact few words? It simply wasn't possible. So she stuck to bookmarking each one with a different colored piece of paper. January was a soft green. February was pink, of course. March was blue, April was light violet, May was a deep grey, June was a brilliant gold, July was a glimmering red, August was shaded brown, September was colored a gentle orange, October was painted black, November was a neat turquoise, and December was white.
One page, however, had its corner inverted, reminding Amaranth that it was there. It was her favorite, and at the same time, least favorite page. She read it often, going over the day word for word, always the same. She picked it apart, analyzing every detail, making sure she missed nothing. If she found the rare missing piece, she would add it in quickly, imprinting it in her mind.
Again, she slipped through it, reading it slowly yet quickly. She dare not waste Velcan's time, but she couldn't bear merely skimming the page. It meant too much to her to do that. And so, as he spoke to her, she kept half of her mind focused on him, ready to answer any and all questions, while she held the other half to the story, making sure to miss nothing.
"It was a dark and stormy night" would have been the ideal beginning. Corny, yet pathetically true. It had been a dark and stormy night when her day had truly began. If the "stormy" part had not existed, the "dark" part would have faded to sunrise within the hour. Dawn was awakening, and with it, the herd of equi resting on the hilly plain. Horses were huddled together, protecting each other from the chill of the wind. It wasn't quite May. They were still stuck in the rainy April yet. Mara couldn't help but curse the May flowers as April showers poured down on them mercilessly. It was as if the weather knew this month would be her last with her family, and it wished to make it all the more horrible. For today, she was going to be traded, fritted away to the first stag that seemed worthy of owning her 3 and a half year old bodice. She had been lucky, though. Usually mares were given away when they first matured, usually around two years of age. But her father had known her fear of strange places and equi, and so had kept her safe by his side for an extra year and a half. She had been lucky, too, that she was as healthy and ready as she was. She had been born in late November, with winter's chill creeping upon the helpless horses. Many who had been born at the same time as she had suffered defects due to the early cold. She had been spared, suffering only a slightly-smaller frame.
But today, she could be safe no longer. 3 years was pushing it. 3 and a half was unheard of. There had been whispers spreading through the terr that her father had bred with her, though unsuccessfully. They said that he had held on to her only because of her fertility, and his fear of someone else taking that from him. It had not been true, of course. But still, he could take the gossip no more. The rumors were becoming rampant, and he needed to regain his honor quickly.
As the sun rose, the sky grew lighter, though rain still poured. Equi awoke, their heads raising, then lowering again to wake the new batch of little ones. There were four newlings this year, and three yearlings from last. Amaranth arose to, keeping a weather eye on the horizon. Suitors would be coming soon. Word had spread quickly that she was up for grabs today, and there were many bachelors wanting a mare of their own. The two year olds had been shipped off nearly two months earlier, so if they wanted one now, she was their last hope.
As she had feared, two bands of bachelors rushed toward the herd, their lusty eyes fixed on her. They stopped before they could reach her, however. Well, at least they had manners. Each consulted her father, and one by one they were put to either side of him. His left was reserved for those with no chance. His right was for those with a shot at her. Only one stood on his right so far. A tall, red roan, his ancestry impossible to comprehend. He looked at her with optics as dark as his thoughts. He had one purpose, and one purpose only. He was also the oldest, strongest, and apparently "safest" of the bunch. He would protect her better than any of the others. As the line moved forward, more and more were placed to the left, until only two remained. Amaranth's lover, and her future master. To determine the winner, they were set to battle. Each took his position, and they lunged. Mara turned away before the first strike was dealt, so she knew not what happened. All she could determine was that her lover's jugular had been pierced. Though the other mares in the herd claimed an unfair fight, and some, including Mara, weeped over the lost life, the evil brute was determined the winner. She went without a fuss, too shell shocked to do much anyway. The post traumatic stress disorder stayed with her, keeping her mute for nearly five months. But here she was, talking again. And here she was, alone again. Where were the bands of bachelors coming to fight for her? Where was the evil and good, willing to kill each other over her? All that stood was a lone stallion, requiring no epic battle, no dramatic confrontation to claim her. He had no challenge, no test. And she was glad. She knew he would win, most likely, no matter the feat, but she dare not risk losing another gentle knight.
She smiled as she finished reading her page. I would be honored, milord. She smiled gently. She was ready to follow him anywhere.
` the walls begin to shake!
>> and let's add some random shit.
favorite cereal;; She doesn't like cereal. She eats toast.
If your member was confronted by a member of the living dead, what would they do? She would certainly go pale and do her best to defend herself. But in the long run, it all depends on just how dead the Living Dead looks.
Deal or no deal?Psh, deal. She's pressed her luck enough in her life, in her opinion.
