Post by Sam Jelsontaine on Oct 23, 2009 14:20:27 GMT -5
{ I CAN'T FEEL MY SENSES }
name :: Sam Jelsontaine
age :: Forty five, but she appears to be sixteen
gender:: Female
{ I JUST FEEL THE COLD }
height :: Five foot three inches
weight :: One hundred fifteen pounds; she is quite thin, but her dancing makes her graceful.
hair:: Rosy chocolatey brown, all the way down to her hips and layered. She also has bangs cut crossways across her forehead, and those she's chosen to dye raspberry red.
skin:: Pale, with a rosy hue beneath her cheeks. She doesn't tan, she burns.
clothing style:: Skinny jeans or sweats, tight stretchy shirts or tees. She prefers long, dark things in conservative colors; she doesn't wear shorts much.
tattoos or scars:: Nope, none, nada.
other distinguishing features:: She has very small ears, hands and feet.
{ ALL COLORS SEEM TO FADE AWAY }
powers:: Willow Can control the weather. She is very good at this, and she is quite accurate as well. Anthing she wants to happen can. She is not, however, a meteorologist, and thus she sometimes causes calamities as a result of, say, having an icestorm and a firestorm together 'just to see what will happen'.
lifespan:: 80-100 years; as far as she knows of this, she's just another person.
faction:: Impartial
race:: Human
other interesting abilities/talents:: She can change people's moods, just a tiny bit. Not enough to make them stop bawling their eyes out, say, but enough to get them to look at the bright side of life. She's also pretty good at cheering herself up.
{ I CAN'T REACH MY SOUL }
likes:: Music and dance, the quiet, putting people down, good jokes, furry animals (and people!)
dislikes:: Drama, art galleries, the 'real' world, small children.
fears:: Public speaking, death, bugs and grubs...just the usual.
dreams:: To have her sister come and live with her as an Impartial, and to complete her coin collection from the real world.
quirks:: Her sense of humor is occasionally a bit odd. And she doesn't like sweets.
general personality:: Willow is soft-spoken and says little, but underneath her shy appearances she is bubbly and enthusiastic. She laughs at others and herself, and she is usually the one to make the jokes. Willow is very observant, and she sees through lies and false appearances easily, but sometimes it takes a friend to show her the big picture. She rarely laughs but instead smiles, and she often prefers to be alone.
other informative facts:: Samirah can be a bit odd sometimes, which is why she's never made the leap to being a Royal. But she's usually a pretty good person.
{ I WOULD STOP RUNNING }
mother:: Alexandria (Alexi) Jelsontaine
father:: Tim Sollings
siblings:: Her little sister, Feather Sollings; Sam's relationship with her sister is quite good, though Sam is an Impartial and Feather is a Stray.
other relatives:: None
hometown:: Paris, Kentucky
history::Sam and her sister were dropped off at the Wall by a taxi driver who was tipped by their mom to get rid of them. They had never lived peacefully at home before; their mother was overwhelmed by her life as it was, and having two very special children was the last straw. They met their father in court, only once, during their mother's attempt to get rid of them, and soon after that they were packed off to live with the other freaks beyond the wall.
other historical revelations :: None, she lived in a family of idiots and assholes.
{ IF I KNEW THERE WAS A CHANCE }
ooc name::Alice Herlinger (Silence)
rp expirience:: Quite a bit, I co-own three forums and have been a member of a lot of other ones. I have been roleplaying for about 3 years now.
how did you find SL?:: One of your members posted an ad for you on Deviant Art.
rp example:: The mist was cool and fragrant. Not in the way that it was like an air freshener, but in the way that it smelled of cool wetness and rotting leaves. Like fall. It drifted beneath the black oaks, placed so randomly along the road and in the pastures beyond. The fog was murky grey, but it contrasted so nicely with the green of the fields and the orange of the leaves that it looked like liquid silver. The gods poured it here, Sam fantasized. Just for us. She walked through the mist, but she was careful to keep it away from her so she could not feel its coolness. She did not own a sweater and usually did not need one, but occasionally she wished she had one just so she could feel the cool brush of rain on her skin. Humans are so flimsy, she thought. We can weave fabric and build houses and make heaters all we want, but we're still weak. She walked down the road slowly, avoiding the huge puddly potholes and stepping over the fallen branches. The road had once led travelers to a grand country estate, but this house had been chipped from the rest of the world by the Wall and now here it lay, a weathered stone left from an ancient carving. It saddened Sam to see it wasted like this, but she knew that there weren't enough people in Shadowland to take care of the properties this far away from the downtown. She sighed, a mixture of contentment and painful longing escaping her tight chest. At least she'd gotten ahold of the land. She was slowly fixing it, replacing rotted boards and fallen fences with clean new wood and stone. She did it alone. Sam didn't know how to drive a bulldozer, but machinery was nothing compared to a singeing lightningbolt. At first she'd enjoyed playing God, being able to vaporize huge piles of junk with a billion crazy volts of electricity. But she was bored of that now, and she instead enjoyed putting the estate back together as she wished, building it up slowly and beautifully. And now Sam was resting. The house was nearly complete. The fields were all green and fresh. The fences were straight and strong. All that was left was this road, and she wasn't completely sure how she would fix it. More lightning? Possibly. But how could she flatten it? Wind would not make it smooth, and nor would water. Besides, lightning was too hot. She didn't know what it would do to the tar. She supposed that she'd have to hire someone from New York to do it, but that was forbidden. The government gave death threats to those who tried to cross lines. Sam could risk her life for a few boards, or some bags of cement, but she couldn't imagine killing another person just because she wanted a smooth driveway. She sighed and began to walk back home, pondering her problem deeply as it started to rain. What she really wanted right now was a hot cup of coffee and a good book.
