// Information:Your Name: Mallory
Your Age: 17 ½ WEWT
Contact Information: Pm. Or smoke signals
how long have you been roleplaying? : 3-4 years, various things (lions, wolves, humans, etc.)
How did you hear about us?: My imaginary friend Carnegie told me (advertisement)
Male or female:Female
// Character Information:Character’s Full Name: Viviana Marie Locais
Nickname: Viv, Vivi, Vi
Age: 29
Birthdate: January 11th
Gender: Female
Pack: Olympic/Cascade
Marital Status: Single, Unimprinted
// Appearance:
Hair: Dark dark brown, with occasional flashes of reddish
Eyes: Icy blue
Weight: 122.2 pounds
Height: 5 feet 7 inches
Nationality:American
Distinguishing marks: A dark scaled dragon’s tail curls about her shoulder, it’s body wrapping lazily about her arm, until you reach its head which rests on the inside of her wrist.
General Appearance :
Human --- She’s rather short, in fact considered “petite” though, she has met some shorter than herself, granted few, but some. Her skin is rather pale, and mostly unblemished. They wave gently to about her shoulder blades, a deep almost black chocolate, though in the right light, flashes of reddish can be seen. Overall, she’s got rather delicate looking features, slim fingers, small wrists and slim legs. She maintains an athletic frame, though she’s never really been much of a sport’s girl she is a runner, and her job requires good physical condition.
Were --- Still small, she’s just a bit smaller than the size of a regular wolf, with almost the same looking frame. Slim legs, long figure , and slim concave ears., Her muzzle, while thin is slightly larger than the normal and packed with stronger teeth. Her fur is longer than the normal cropped short style, though only slightly. Her fur is a deep brown, almost exactly like her hair normally; however it lightens along her chest and inner legs. Its slight, but its there. Eyes are replicas of her human pair, an icy iris with lighter and darker flecks mixed in, surrounded a black as night pupil.
// Special: (This applies only to werewolf characters.)
Color : Deep Brown, but with flashes of red
Bitten or Born : Born
// All About Me: Special Skills :
Cooking.
Reading (Lame.)
Strengths:
Listening
Running
She’s Fair, and definitely Reliable
good Judgment
her Levelheaded-ness
Artistic things
WeaknessHer Past
She’s Gullible
Her Closter-phobia
Those close to her
Her parents
Likes:
Guys
Penguins
Art
Running
Blending In
Dislikes:
Thunderstorms
Secrets
Social Workers
Her Memories
Cup-a-Noodles
Fears:
Lightning
Her Memories
What Comes after Death
Small Spaces
Losing her happiness
Dreams:
See her Parents again
Know what happened to them, but be able to forget
Murder her Social Worker (hehheheheheh.not)
Feel comfortable with herself
Habits:
Chews her cuticles (or nails) when she’s nervous or scared
Blinking rapidly when she’s angry
Going quiet and Clenching her jaw so she won’t cry.
Personality:
Behind -- Rarely anyone sees the storm going on inside of her, her face is usually a mask of impassiveness, except for when she’s painting or running (w/four legs) that anything is really ever shown. It’s actually a type of defense. It’s not that she’s bothered by what other people think, she’s bothered by the fact that she isn’t sure about others. Since That day, she’s always had issues deciding who she can or can’t trust, and experiences have just really made it worse. Of course, that’s not to say, that if she gets the chance to seriously analyze you, and by that I mean, drawing your face or having a seriously in depth conversation, she won’t be your best friend, because she will be.
The -- Once she gets over the initial hesitancy of new people, or not knowing who to trust, things are easier. Conversation flows, she laughs, emotions show to others, though still not to the extent they possible could. However, once she realizes the kind of person you are, and whether or not she’d like to be associated with you, she trusts deeply. It’s just the initial stage that’s rather hard. She’ll always have your back, the strongest bond of trust there is, willing to do just about anything.
Mask – She’s a very caring person, who loves deeply, and hurts deeply. She’d be horrified if anyone whom she cared about would be hurt in anyway, even just the thought of a scratch. She’s never been extremely violent, even when her rare temper does decide to show itself. Viv, well she loves and she hates. A person on her bad side stays on her bad side, unless they prove themselves extremely worthy. She maintains a level head most times, in disasters she doesn’t panic very easily, and is known to be rather brave when she has to be. Most think of her as rather timid, but she’s not really. She's got a feirce determination, and refuses to let anyone tell her what she can and can't do. She's got unwavering loyalty to those she deems worthy, and a steely resolve when threatened.
// General History:Character History:
Born On January 11th, to a were mother and her human imprint, there small cabin the delivery room. She was the first child of her parents, and the last. Her Birthparents were extremely proud of her, and spoiled her rotten while they could. She had a rather easy early childhood. Played with a few other children nearby, but never was really a friend to any of them. They were too loud for her liking. Even as a small child she drew pictures all the time, and seemed fascinated with the nature around her. Mother had stopped changing, and father wished to break the news to her when she was older.
The “Fire” was a horrible day for her family. Though she now refuses to believe it was still just a fire. There were people there, and guns. But, somehow her parents were killed, though she remained alive. Her neighbors managed to get her away from the scene, and sheltered her in their home for a few nights, but she was a growing girl, but most were after all, only human, so she was shuffled off soon after. The next few months were a haze of social workers, and foster homes. Her meager belonging thrust into a garbage bag, degraded into thinking she was just that. Garbage. Her adopted parents, whom she never realized were her adoptive parents, until she would turn 7, would soon grace her life.
Adolescence was easier. Though she struggled through school, but breezed through all the art classes they allowed her. She managed to escape high school with a diploma, bound for the local college, and their basic programs. Two years after that day, she left with a scrap of paper, saying all her work was justified, and that she had nothing to worry about. Life would be simple after this. Okay, maybe it didn’t really say that, but that’s what she thought.
She high tailed it away from Arizona, and only ever felt comfortable once she'd settled in Washington, the place they'd told her she'd originally been from. A small second floor flat, surrounded on all sides by people who were more than willing to welcome her. Weeks would pass, lady just sitting around still unseure what to d0 with herself when the park opening showed up. It was completely unexpected, but she tried it and loved it, they trained her, and in no time she was a full, certified ranger. Plus, most of the constant partolling gave her plently of things to sketch.
// Blood:Parents:Deceased
Siblings: None
Other: Adoptive Parents: Maureen & Allen Guyer
// Other:Celebrity Claim: Alexis Bledel
Member Title: Behind the Mask?
PasswordsAdmin edit// Roleplay:Sample here:
‘ Viviana knew something was wrong, this scene was too familiar, and too repetitive, she couldn’t be having this dream again could she? Oh yes, she could. The snow around the small cabin gave it away, the only memories she’s able to recall form that time are of winter. It looks almost picturesque, but she knows what lurks inside. Though this dream has played thousands and thousands of times through her subconscious, she still can help the irrational fear that creeps up her spine. Though she wills herself not to, her body reacts to the dream, and walks slowly toward the door, a pale hand pushing it open with a creak. Though, she knows it’s always what she’ll see, the shrill scream escapes her throat, almost before she lays eyes on the bodies. Bloodied, but burned as well, they lay in front of her, most certainly not just caught in a fire. However, despite the déjà vu she was experiencing the same emotions played out in her mind the same horrific guilt and agony that made her scream.
Comforter and sheet flew back from her figure, as she vaulted forward from her mattress. The dark room looked the same it had last night, when she’d awoken in just the same manner. Feet slid to rest upon the now icy cold wooden floor, leaving her to wince slightly. Figure plodded slowly from her bedroom, to behold the grandfather clock she’d bought at an antique sale. 2:40 a.m. Great. Her form would half fall, half recline onto the couch, eyes moving to focus upon the form of the figures moving across the silent TV screen, muted so as not to wake her neighbors. Her memories seemed fit to glide along the path that her dream had set. ‘
“What do you mean? I’m not your child?” The form she’d clutched so tightly in her grasp, fluttered to the floor, the names printed on it meaningless. “Well Babe” her father --- no Allen started, a guilty look plastered upon his face. They should have told her. Sure, she was seven, and still completely traumatized by the glimpses of things she could barely remember, haunted by nightmares of the scenario, but she should have been told “When we met you, you didn’t speak, and they told us you were a troubled case. We decided you were perfect for us anyway, and adopted you on the spot. Don’t you remember?”
No, of course I don’t remember, I can only remember faces, and glimpses even of the happier times or anything remotely solid until just before my fifth birthday, and even then when it was clear I didn’t know, they refused to tell me. “Of course you were very young then baby. Viv? Are you alright?!” Mo---Maureen asked, an edge of panic rising into her tone she must have noticed the trembling, how could she even think Viviana was alright? Her life, excepted for the most horrific part, was a complete and utter lie. They led her along like this for 3 years. “What’s my name?” Guyer couldn’t be her last name could it? She wasn’t born to these people after all, they were liars. “Sweetheart, Your name is Viviana Guyer” Maureen’s tone was quiet, on the edge of tears.
Viviana managed to gather the strength to stare up at them, the mask of no emotion settling into place. “My Real Name.” Allen, who’d lapsed into silence as she had chosen to ignore his earlier question. “You were born Viviana Marie Locais” Icy blue gaze blinked twice, it seemed like the name finally fit her now, after all she’d never looked like either of them, and there had been clues, she was just blind to them. “Locais. That’s my last name, not Guyer” Maureen was crying now, sobbing was more like it, her head cradled in her hands, Allen was torn, between comforting his wife, or the trembling child in front of him. Viviana turned, and the form she’d dropped was trampled beneath her bare feet as she fled to her room. Titled “My Family Tree” It was never finished.Viviana sighed, and shifted, her attention having wavered from the show, what had caused her to think of that day? That day when she, so horribly angry and hurt, after telling them she was no longer a Guyer screamed at them to change her name back, and return her to the shelter, where people cared enough not to lie to her. Of course, that was after the fright had passed, and the sadness, finally mourning for the blurring memories of the people who were actually her family. Obviously she had no others, and Maureen and Allen were soon forgiven, though her name was returned to its original state.
STOP IT VIV! She chided herself, such thinking only made her thoughts eventually return to that of the nightmare, and the memories, and she wasn’t in the mood for dream analysis again. Eyes flicked toward the clock, 3:20. The TV had long since changed shows, some late night cartoon now rolled across the screen. She stared at it; letting the flashes and rhythms lull her, hopefully back into a dreamless sleep, for a short time at least. ‘
Character contract
I Mallory have read ALL of the rules including the topics listed within the rules as well as the Species. I understand the sight differences and will do nothing to change what had been created here. I will also post once a week or my character will be considered inactive. After two weeks, and I have still not posted, my character will be removed and the account deleted. I hereby understand these rules, and will follow them to my ability. If I am unable to, I will let an Admin know.
{Mallory}, {November 2, 2009}
This post has been edited by ADMIN1 on Nov 11 2009, 05:12 PM
LOCAIS,VIVIANA, Behind The Mask
