Post by Tala Weatherstone on Jun 1, 2008 21:31:20 GMT -5
OUT OF CHARACTER
What do we call you: Persia
Are you older then 16: Yep
What time zone are you in: EST
How long have you been rp’ing: Five years
Have you read all the rules: Yes
Would you think of yourself as an active person: Yes, usually daily
You are ok that this site is rated R: Yes
Who is your play by (Character model): None specific
CHARACTER INFORMATION
Name: Tala Weatherstone
Month/Day of birth: August fourth
Race: Centaur
Gender: Female
Appearance: Tala's equine half is built similar to her father, in that she appears to be of friesian lines, built strong with rippling muscles beneath ebonite pelt. Feathers danced around her hooves as she moved, and a train of waved ravenite tassels followed behind her like a veil. Though she's strong like a friesian, like her father, she's got the endurance of an arabian horse, more like her mother. Her human half is more gently formed, following the build of her mother. She's slender, yet strong. Golden-red tresses flow lightly arond 'er soft facade, sometimes fluttering over her emerald optics. She usually wears what looks like the top half of a gown, her favorite being navy blue. When she's ready for a fight, she's got a set of strong armor, passed down to her from her mother. She always has her bow and quiver of arrows, and sometimes carries a sword as well.
Martial Status: Single
Family: Born to a pround centaur warrior and a wilder mother, she grew up with the desire for strength and honor in her genes.
PERSONAL INFORMATION
Likes/Dislikes:
Likes: The forest. Night time. Exploring and running. Learning the intricate geography of the forests and hills of Narnia.
Dislikes: War. She's not a big fan of wolves, had a run-in with a pack as a fillygirl.
Personality: Though she can be sweet and utterly loyal once befriended, she's shy and slightly mysterious, preferring to keep to herself and the natural scenery around her. She's not one to jump into conversations with strangers or share anything exceptionally deep with acquaintences. She's strong-hearted, bull-headed, sharp-tongued, and wild-hearted, but an irreplaceable ally once tamed. Sarcasm is her weapon of choice, but she can be the kindest soul when she knows its necessary.
ROLE PLAY SAMPLE
Ooc: Does the post have to be for this character on this site? Or can I use another post I'd made on another site? If not, just let me know and I'll write up a new one :]
What do we call you: Persia
Are you older then 16: Yep
What time zone are you in: EST
How long have you been rp’ing: Five years
Have you read all the rules: Yes
Would you think of yourself as an active person: Yes, usually daily
You are ok that this site is rated R: Yes
Who is your play by (Character model): None specific
CHARACTER INFORMATION
Name: Tala Weatherstone
Month/Day of birth: August fourth
Race: Centaur
Gender: Female
Appearance: Tala's equine half is built similar to her father, in that she appears to be of friesian lines, built strong with rippling muscles beneath ebonite pelt. Feathers danced around her hooves as she moved, and a train of waved ravenite tassels followed behind her like a veil. Though she's strong like a friesian, like her father, she's got the endurance of an arabian horse, more like her mother. Her human half is more gently formed, following the build of her mother. She's slender, yet strong. Golden-red tresses flow lightly arond 'er soft facade, sometimes fluttering over her emerald optics. She usually wears what looks like the top half of a gown, her favorite being navy blue. When she's ready for a fight, she's got a set of strong armor, passed down to her from her mother. She always has her bow and quiver of arrows, and sometimes carries a sword as well.
Martial Status: Single
Family: Born to a pround centaur warrior and a wilder mother, she grew up with the desire for strength and honor in her genes.
PERSONAL INFORMATION
Likes/Dislikes:
Likes: The forest. Night time. Exploring and running. Learning the intricate geography of the forests and hills of Narnia.
Dislikes: War. She's not a big fan of wolves, had a run-in with a pack as a fillygirl.
Personality: Though she can be sweet and utterly loyal once befriended, she's shy and slightly mysterious, preferring to keep to herself and the natural scenery around her. She's not one to jump into conversations with strangers or share anything exceptionally deep with acquaintences. She's strong-hearted, bull-headed, sharp-tongued, and wild-hearted, but an irreplaceable ally once tamed. Sarcasm is her weapon of choice, but she can be the kindest soul when she knows its necessary.
ROLE PLAY SAMPLE
Ooc: Does the post have to be for this character on this site? Or can I use another post I'd made on another site? If not, just let me know and I'll write up a new one :]
Sitting in the middle of the field, she flipped through the delicate pages of a thick book whispering a few of the beautifully scribbled words softly to herself. Her iron-grey horse grazed nearby, his tail whipping at imaginary flies. The air was chilly by now; the trees had already begun to show their rich fall colors. Shutting her book and laying it on the soft grass at her side, she lay down on her back, facing the sky. Deep mahogany curls rolled onto the grass and grey eyes soaked in the blue of the flawless expanse overhead.
Havoc, her grey Arabian stallion, wandered over to her, playfully blowing a lung-full of breath into her face. She smiled and pushed his massive head away and sat up, gathering her book up in her arms. She slowly stood and patted Havoc on the shoulder, slipping her book into his saddle bag. She crossed my arms and rested them on his back as he returned to light grazing. Resting her chin on her arms, she looked out into the valley between the mountains that came down from behind her on the left and right.
There was a tiny river down the middle, shimmering like a silver ribbon, but not much else. Just grass. Lots of emerald grass.
With a sigh, she grabbed Havoc's reins, flipped them back over his head, and jumped up on his back. Turning him away from his beloved grass snack, she headed him toward the valley, breaking out of the shade of the autumn trees into the open sunlight. She squinted at first, but her eyes soon adjusted.
“Beautiful, isn't it.”
She whispered to the stallion. He dipped his head and picked his way gently down the hillside, lazily and with great fatigue. They needed somewhere to recuperate, somewhere to get some sleep and catch up, to get their former spirits back. Somewhere to call home.
She was alone. It was just herself and Havoc. And her book. But no one else looked at her book. Her eyes were the only ones who'd ever grazed its pages. And she'd like to keep it that way. Besides Havoc and her clothes on her back, it was the only thing that she had that was her own. Something she could call her own.
She was hungry. She hadn't eaten in a while, not really. Berries or fruit along the way, but that was it. She hadn't had a real meal since, well she couldn't remember when. Probably since she'd left Madame Griselle's, but even those weren't worthy of being called "real meals". At least she didn't think so.
She was tired. She hadn’t rested since she’d left either, and hadn't rested well before. She’d had to sleep with one eye open in the wilderness; she woke at every break of a branch, every crunch of a leaf, every sound of an imaginary threat. She wished for a bit of sleep more than anything. But she was also happy. Happy to be away. Happy to be able to discover herself.
Happy to act how she wished. Happy to be able to make her own decisions, to do what she wanted when she wanted. Happy to be on her own. Right about now, she was pretty happy. If you used the definition of happy very leniently.
As the pair scaled the hill on the other side of the valley, another dip in the terrain came into view. There was a lake in the lowest part, bordered on the right by a forest and on the left by a dirt road. The beaten path led up the far side of the hill where a lead colored castle perched. Long indigo flags waved from the highest peaks and the front gate stood open like a gaping mouth, yawning in fresh air.
“Should we follow it?”
She asked the horse. He trudged along, heading down toward the lake. Once at the shoreline, they stopped and waded into the shallows for a quick drink before getting back on the trail toward the castle. She held her breath as they approached the gates, several men in black armor stood at either side watching the approachers carefully.
Though one turned and whispered something to another, none of them moved. She passed them quickly and entered the castle. Once inside, a huge marketplace spread out before her. There were people everywhere, leaving barely enough room to stand, let alone walk. She slipped down off Havoc’s back and led him behind her, trying not to run into too many of the strangers all around them.
Havoc, her grey Arabian stallion, wandered over to her, playfully blowing a lung-full of breath into her face. She smiled and pushed his massive head away and sat up, gathering her book up in her arms. She slowly stood and patted Havoc on the shoulder, slipping her book into his saddle bag. She crossed my arms and rested them on his back as he returned to light grazing. Resting her chin on her arms, she looked out into the valley between the mountains that came down from behind her on the left and right.
There was a tiny river down the middle, shimmering like a silver ribbon, but not much else. Just grass. Lots of emerald grass.
With a sigh, she grabbed Havoc's reins, flipped them back over his head, and jumped up on his back. Turning him away from his beloved grass snack, she headed him toward the valley, breaking out of the shade of the autumn trees into the open sunlight. She squinted at first, but her eyes soon adjusted.
“Beautiful, isn't it.”
She whispered to the stallion. He dipped his head and picked his way gently down the hillside, lazily and with great fatigue. They needed somewhere to recuperate, somewhere to get some sleep and catch up, to get their former spirits back. Somewhere to call home.
She was alone. It was just herself and Havoc. And her book. But no one else looked at her book. Her eyes were the only ones who'd ever grazed its pages. And she'd like to keep it that way. Besides Havoc and her clothes on her back, it was the only thing that she had that was her own. Something she could call her own.
She was hungry. She hadn't eaten in a while, not really. Berries or fruit along the way, but that was it. She hadn't had a real meal since, well she couldn't remember when. Probably since she'd left Madame Griselle's, but even those weren't worthy of being called "real meals". At least she didn't think so.
She was tired. She hadn’t rested since she’d left either, and hadn't rested well before. She’d had to sleep with one eye open in the wilderness; she woke at every break of a branch, every crunch of a leaf, every sound of an imaginary threat. She wished for a bit of sleep more than anything. But she was also happy. Happy to be away. Happy to be able to discover herself.
Happy to act how she wished. Happy to be able to make her own decisions, to do what she wanted when she wanted. Happy to be on her own. Right about now, she was pretty happy. If you used the definition of happy very leniently.
As the pair scaled the hill on the other side of the valley, another dip in the terrain came into view. There was a lake in the lowest part, bordered on the right by a forest and on the left by a dirt road. The beaten path led up the far side of the hill where a lead colored castle perched. Long indigo flags waved from the highest peaks and the front gate stood open like a gaping mouth, yawning in fresh air.
“Should we follow it?”
She asked the horse. He trudged along, heading down toward the lake. Once at the shoreline, they stopped and waded into the shallows for a quick drink before getting back on the trail toward the castle. She held her breath as they approached the gates, several men in black armor stood at either side watching the approachers carefully.
Though one turned and whispered something to another, none of them moved. She passed them quickly and entered the castle. Once inside, a huge marketplace spread out before her. There were people everywhere, leaving barely enough room to stand, let alone walk. She slipped down off Havoc’s back and led him behind her, trying not to run into too many of the strangers all around them.
