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Post by YORISA MEDAIN on Jan 12, 2013 12:20:06 GMT -5
Yorisa Medain Troll • Female• 6 Sweeps • Blue • Pansexual•sedulousSingular we've got something, here the future is clear we exist without fear i think we're best described as a pyrocumulus i know there's a fire deep inside of us ★ APPEARANCE: By any sense of the word, for a troll, you iare by no means intimidating. You're rather stunted in your growth, standing at approximately five feet and three inches and weighing in at a hundred and twenty something pounds. There's nothing praise worthy of the way you look, your hair is thick, long and curly and would probably reach down to mid back if you didn't always have it tied up in a tight pony tail, coupled in with the wide rimmed, rectangular spectacles you don on due to your short sightedness (or so you say), it's a wonder how you managed to live this long without being culled just for the way you look. Your eyes, as well as everyone elses, are a typical black pupil on yellow iris, usually seeming unfocused, even with the spectacles on (Do they even help?). Your horns are the only defining features of yourentire being and youmight even be able to look intimidating in them if it weren't for your friendly outlook on everything and everyone. Anyway, your horns start from your temples and sharply curve upwards, a forehead above the top of your head and ends with sharply and slightly curved outwards. But it would help so much more if you had a picture of yourself. ★ COMMON WEAR: Being the lone caretaker of an entire farm, you really do not enjoy wearing clothes that hinder your daily farm duties. Unless it's for an occasion, which obviously doesn't happen very often. You daily wear consists of a plain black shirt under overalls. The pants part of the overalls ending slightly above your knees. Your symbol, in the shade of your blood, displayed on the front pocket of your entire outfit. You hang a small pouch around your waist as well to keep ammo for your strife specibus. One thing you're never, ever seen without is your high Wellington boots, (wherever or whatever the heck wellington is) and gardening gloves. ★ OTHER FEATURES: /nil/ ★ POSITIVE: ★ NEGATIVE: ★ DISLIKES: ★ HABIT: - Pushing her glasses up – Your glasses tend to slip down the bridge of your nose a lot, and it’s become a habit for you to just push it right back up, even now when it’s sitting in the same position it was a few minutes ago.
- Holding something – You just don’t like the feeling of empty-handedness.
★ FEAR: - Everything and everyone dying- It’s like one of those horrible nightmares where everywhere you look, everything is dead and lifeless and you’re just there on your own. You have no problems with dying yourself, but you really can’t bear seeing everything just dropping dead around you.
★ STRIFE SPECIBUS: SlingshotKind. Made it yourself when you outgrown the stage of being a young wriggler and noticed how much of a cawbeast problem the farm had. The best thing about it is that you can always make a new one when the old one is broken and that anything and everything can be used as ammo.
★ FETCH MODUS: Hit-the-target modus. The name speaks for itself. It's a real pain in the neck especially since the capchalogue cards are in the shape (and colour) of bullseyes and the item you're intending to get are usually hidden behind them. The difficulty of trying to get your item differs as to how urgent your situation is. If you're in a rush, the cards would being moving, like in a carnival game, except much more annoying.
★ ANCESTOR: Your ancestor is The SNIPE. A notorious low blood assassin. Very calculative and quick thinking. Was well known in the past for offing a few influtential highbloods before having been caught and executed.
★ HISTORY: Your name is YORISA MEDAIN, you’re six sweeps old and have never been a very big part of troll society since the day you were hatched. The most you know of the world is just your Hive and the sea. You hive, which is a farm (that you should know by now) is located quite close to the sea since there is at least ONE freshwater tributary that leads to the ocean and we all know how much water a farm requires to grow things. Anyway, you lived most of your life with your lusus, also known as PIGDAD to you, personally, you’re pretty sure you’re taking care of him instead of the other way round, since all he does is just laze around for most of the days (and nights). Well, a little more about you would be that, being one born, or hatched, with bronzeblood, or in more cruder terms, brownblood, you have very distinct psychic abilities. Two of which include botanokinesis and also the ability to manipulate the minds of animals. One of which you only use when you’re at your wit’s end. And it’s only ever happened once when your moobeasts were being hunted on by a pack of wild wolfbeasts. You blacked out and the next thing you know, there lies a pile of dead wolfbeasts and you with a lot of cleaning up to do.
When you finally reached the age of 3 sweeps, you have the thought that you can’t live your life devoid of interaction with other trolls and got yourself your very own husktop. You’re surprised you actually managed to get the darn thing started, what with all the wires. It was through online interaction with other trolls that you learned about an upcoming game only known as SGRUB. It sounded interesting and you managed to secure a copy for yourself. Now all it takes is to get to know more about the bunch of “friends” you’re playing with, and well, who knows what could happen from there. THIS CHARACTER HAS BEEN CREATED BY Kana. TEMPLATE CREATED BY chariza of ote
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EMILY
ADMINISTRATOR
[M:0]
Posts: 7
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Post by EMILY on Feb 9, 2013 2:17:19 GMT -5
WITCH OF BLOOD PROSPIT DREAMER YORISA MEDAINI believe I can see your planet now. Yes. You are in the
LAND OF WAX AND WICKER.A land of scents and hard, woven vines. Underfoot, your planet seems to be composed of nothing but dead vegentation, woven together into a massive, precarious ball. From below, gigantic candles stretch out almost interminably into the sky: like strange, alien stars, the light cast by their far-off flames barely illuminates the ground. So huge are they that from below they might as well be mistaken for wax buildings, dyed in the hues of the hemospectrum. But they are not: the hot wax that drips down the sides are collected by your color changing chameleons that say "weh", skilled if pessimistic artisans that make oils and perfumes out of the stuff and constantly foretell the end of the world. Although they will ask nothing of you, offer your help: their aid or instruction may yet prove useful. Indeed, Hecate is said to be so impressed by their ability that she occasionally wraps herself in enchantments and wanders their markets, buying their wares. Seek her out, Witch, for she has much to tell you. Beware not to dally: though it may seem slow your land is melting. Hecate is known to favor your class, but her goals and yours do not necessarily align and she moves in mysterious ways.
But that will all come in time, Witch. For now, you're going back. You'll know nothing of your quest, of your land, of your very title. You'll be an average six sweep old girl. But not for much longer.
WELCOME TO THE SGURB BETA! [/center] |
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