Post by limauniform on May 5, 2009 8:50:28 GMT -7
Out Of Character
What would you liked to be called?:
Lu
Are you over the age of 13?:
Yup
Have you read and understood all the rules?:
YesIn Character
Name:
Catalyna DuJore
Age:
19
Gender:
Female
Species:
Gifted
Special Power:
Elemental
Father:
Marcos DuJore - deceased
Mother:
Rayna Miller (DuJore) - deceased
Sibling/s:
None
Partner:
None
Appearance:
A petite young lady, Catalyna stands at only 5’6”, a rather short stature for someone of her age. She’s not exactly a beauty, but she’s not ugly either; she’s somewhere in between, pretty one could say, in an almost feral way. Her hair is a dull copper/bronze, short and bobbed to just under her ear lobes. It’s occasionally spiked into a boyish style, but generally lies flat on her head in a silky dome. The slanted eyes underneath these bangs are a disturbingly pale pink, pale enough that they almost seem white from a distance, giving a blind appearance to the casual passer-by. The girl’s skin is an average, healthy peach with no blemishes that can be easily seen to others, though she does have a long curving scar running the length of her spine – the result of a past accident with a fire brand. Her face is in the shape of an elongated oval, with a sloping forehead, high, well-defined cheekbones and a strong nose.
From her physical build, it’s quite obvious that Catalyna is not a girl who sits idly by all day. The muscles in her legs and arms are especially pronounced as she has a hobby of tree and building hopping, an activity which requires exertion from all four limbs. She’s toned and in good-shape, an overall sporty type…or so it seems at first glance. Look closer and one can see that there’s also a more feminine side to her. For one, her nails are always painted bright silver and are manicured to perfection; for another, she has a tendency to wear spangled bracelets around her wrists from time to time, whenever the feeling suits her. Catalyna’s wardrobe is fairly simple, comprised of a series of similar outfits, all in the same color. She’s lazy, so this way, she can just slap something together and still look ready for the day. The black cloak is a clothing item she wears more out of habit than necessity or want. The young adult could care less what people thought of her strange hair and eyes, but considering that it was generally known a Gifted would wear the cape, she dons it in public. However, the hood she never puts up.
100 high x 50 wide px Avatar Image of your character:
Avatar
No bigger than 300 high x 530 wide px Signature Image:
Signature
Personality:
She’s somewhat of a rebel, choosing often to defy the more lax rules in the clan and rest of society. Not to say that she’s disobedient or reckless; if given a direct order from Mya or another superior, she will carry it out word for word, especially during strenuous times. Catalyna is stubborn and strong-willed and has her own ideas for the future. She’s a peppy and lively personnel with a seemingly endless storage of energy at her disposal, something that comes in very handy during a fight. She doesn’t really belong to any one particular group, just kind of flits from circle to circle, socializing a bit with everyone she meets on the way. This also means that she doesn’t have any permanent friends that she can count on without fail, a fact that bothers her but pushed to the side.
Catalyna is always on the search for new adventures. Life’s too short to go to waste is her philosophy. Even when you’re a being that ages at 3 times the normal rate of humans, those few years can pass by in the blink of an eye and before you know it, you’re being put under the ground. And that’s not counting all the possible early deaths situations you could face along the way. She’s inquisitive by nature, poking her nose into a situation whether or not she should be and sniffing around. It often ends in her being a good deal of trouble, but hey, there’s excitement for you! She’s easily entertained too, both a good and bad thing, as this means she is also easily distracted.
The nickname: Pink Eyed Witch, was something that the people she was around with took up to calling her. One because her eyes were pink, and two because if provoked in any way, Catalyna will turn into a cynical, acid-tongued bitch who hurtles both scathing insults and elemental attacks at her ‘opposer’ simultaneously. Thankfully, she has a fairly even temper and doesn’t snap often, or even easily. What few things do push her patience over the edge are rare to come by unless one was purposefully seeking a scuffle. Catalyna can be quite a monster if need be in a fight and is known to be ruthless. Her tactics are simple; be the first to attack and keep the missiles flying in the other’s direction, don’t give them time to react. If that fails, then more strategies and antics can be utilized to overcome an opponent.
Strengths:
- Long-distance attacks
- Speed/Agility
- Excellent balance
- Water, Earth, and Air
Weaknesses:
- Close-combat
- Power (overall)
- Fear of being killed
- Fire (slightly worse at controlling it than the other elements)
Mental Health:
Stable
Likes:
- Adventures
- Puzzles/Riddles
- Nature
- Animals
- Meeting new people
Dislikes:
- Fire
- Closed spaces
- Being caged in
- Interrogations
- Night Crawlers
Past:
Though both her parents were Gifted, neither was elemental; her father was a refigure and her mother a healer. Catalyna was destined to be an only child, for her mother died not long after giving birth to her. Possibly this was the reason for her father’s addiction to Night Crawler venom later on in his life. What was left of the family moved from the city where they’d lived up until Rayna’s death and into a remote little town on the edge of the border. There, Catalyna grew into adulthood alongside a very unpleasant and unwilling father figure. The child’s first displays of Gifted potential at age 4 did not please her parent. Marcos DuJore, by that time, was thoroughly addicted to the venom and spent most of his time under the poison’s effects rather than with his daughter. When he came home one day to find that that same daughter had burned his desk and everything in it – by accident but he didn’t care – the man flew into a rage and began attacking her with a brand from the fireplace. Since then, the relationship between the two was entirely ruined and Catalyna grew to despise the Night Crawlers her father so depended on.
After Marcos finally succumbed to the venom in his system, Catalyna was free to go. Though she felt no love towards the man who had beaten her as a child, she’d stayed at the house only because she felt her mother would’ve wanted her to. Now that the old man was gone, she could leave at last and find her own way through life. She was 17 in human years when she took to the road. For a while nothing of interest happened and the days passed by like they did before, dull and monotonous. At another town, Catalyna met her first elemental Gifted: a cook who had the appearance of someone in their late 40’s. The two struck up a conversation in the restaurant where the older woman worked and the latter agreed to help teach the younger one what she knew. Catalyna moved in with the lady soon after and for 5 years, stayed in the village, gathering what knowledge she could.
The first emergence of her brutal side came around her 6th year in the town, at the human age of 19. By then, Catalyna had developed into a fine fighter, able to rival her mentor and anyone else most of the time. Also, she’d grown fond of the quaint little village she’d stumbled upon half a decade ago and was making plans to settle down permanently. Before her plans could be taken into action, a raid swept through their midst and the young girl found her world shattered all over again. It happened quickly and efficiently, the men getting what they wanted and gone before anyone could raise any protest. The entire town was pretty much demolished, collapsed in burning ruins; most of the civilians were either carted off to be slaves or laid dead in the streets; her own home was reduced to nothing more than a small pile of smoking wood and broken stones. The old woman who had taken her in and with whom she’d shared a roof with for 6 years was one of the many who were killed in the rampage. While she had not shed a single tear for her biological father when he’d died, Catalyna found herself now consumed both by grief and rage. She wanted revenge, and she would have her revenge.
What happened next unfolded in several stages; first, she had to hunt down the raiders after they’d already left the town, and then, she could exact her vengeance as she pleased. It’s unsure what exactly took place at the raid camp since the only person to witness the event and escape alive was a bit wacko in the head. Henceforth, she was not seen again in that area and the nickname Pink Eyed Witch caught up to her not long after her departure.
Sample Post:
((Fairly old sample….))
“Well?” the matron demanded impatiently.
“Well…” the doctor straightened and removed the stethoscope from his ears. “…I’m not quite sure what’s wrong with her.”
Indeed the small child lying curled up on the cot looked to be sick, running a high fever even. Her round face was bright red, her breathing labored, and she was literally drenched in sweat. But something was off. The thermometer he’d put in her mouth read that her temperature wasn’t much higher than average and though the flush was unmistakably there, her skin was amazingly cool to the touch. Her pulse was fine so he assumed it was nothing seriously life threatening. Perhaps the child was faking?
“What do you mean ‘you’re not sure,’” the matron snapped, irritated with this fool of a doctor. “Is she sick or not? And if so, can she be cured quickly?”
The stout little man closed his eyes and rubbed them with one hand, a gesture that he only made when he was becoming aggravated with a person. It was something that rarely happened as he was extremely benevolent and tolerant of others, but this woman, this sadistic devil in human form, was testing his nature like no one else had. If this was what the students had to put up with day and night, it was no wonder that this girl might fake ill to try and escape for a few days.
“I mean that I cannot determine what sickness she is being ailed by,” he began slowly. “She is sick, but I do not yet know to what degree. As for cure, that has yet to be determined. I’ll come back in a few days to check on her progress.”
Without waiting for the matron to speak, the doctor bent, picked up his bag, tipped his hat, for despite all he was a gentleman, and exited the room. He was followed not long after by the demeaning lady herself who, with a much uncivilized snort, turned on her heel and marched back to her office. She had wasted enough precious time on that useless child and there was work to do. So, Violetta Birchwold was left to herself in the sick room for the rest of the day.
As soon as she was sure that there was no one watching or listening, the child threw back the smothering covers and leaped out of bed with more energy than any sick person should possess. She grabbed a towel from the neat stack nearby and began rubbing furiously at her face, scrubbing at the foul smelling make-up she’d resorted to using to pass her ruse. The salt water came off easily, but that damned blush…a good minute and a half’s rubbing finally succeeded in ridding her small, pale face of the dratted pink stuff. Leaving the soiled towel lying on the floor, Violetta hurriedly reached beneath the cot mattress, withdrew a well stuffed canvas bag, and with another cautious look over her shoulder, began to creep towards the window.
“Curse it, they said it would be storming by now,” she muttered as she went.
Instead, only a few scant clouds boiled over the horizon. They were approaching at a steady pace, but definitely not fast enough for her liking or needs. She unbolted the shutters and let them fly wide open. A strong gust of damp wind whipped past, signaling that though late, the rain was on its way. And indeed, 10 or so minutes later, the first clap of lightening streaked across the sky. Following was a deafening boom of thunder and not long after, the first drops of water.
“About time,” Violetta sighed.
Hoisting her light frame onto the window sill, the girl leaned out slightly to see just how far away the ground was. Thank the lords it’s just the 2nd floor! She thought and let herself drop. With a soft ‘whump,’ she was on the lawn and off running as fast as her short legs would carry her. Finally, she was free; free of that cursed old school, free of the vile adults who reigned supreme there, freed at last for the first time in 3 years. She laughed; a happy laugh that was barely out of her mouth before it was drowned out by nature’s fury. The little white figure was soon lost to the eye while far above, the storm raged on.