romeo wilco
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- Posted: Mon, 19 Oct 2009 20:36:50 +0000
Name: Tatiana Yoselin Konstantin
Nicknames: Tate
Age: 17
Birthday: 24 December
Sign: Capricorn
Blood Type: A
Fav. Food: Chicken teriyaki with vegetables and steamed rice; casserole-type food; stews; submarine sandwiches
Hated Food: Stollen, a kind of sweet bread her mother makes; jolly rancher hard candies; spaghetti
School: Meadowview
Hobbies:
Playstation games - Especially two player fight simulators. The Soul Calibur series is her favorite, but she'll play Dead or Alive in a pinch. She also plays RPGs, but only the horror ones - Silent Hill, Haunting Grounds, Fatal Frame, Alone in the Dark.
Anime club - She made it. And then she let someone else be the president so she could be the secretary. Because she's the secretary, she probably gets called on to arbitrate fights a lot (we already watched Trigun three times this semester! no we haven't! yes we have tate what do the minutes say) but mostly she just goes to watch the shows. She likes being around the people, though, otherwise she'd probably just watch at home on the computer. You can find her in Room 201 every Tuesday from the end of class to five PM.
Reading - Game walkthroughs and shoujo manga when she should be doing her homework.
Drawing - Fanart.
Gemstone: Tree agate
Virtues:
Genre Saavy - Tate has read so much shojo manga and played so many RPGs that she can predict plot twists coming, even in real life. This isn't a power- it's simply awareness of her surroundings and a suspicious mind. For instance, if she's in a haunted house and a doorknob rattles, she won't touch it, because she knows that, for one, there's going to be something big and nasty on the other side of the door, and two, that if she does go down with a flashlight, the door will slam closed and lock and her flashlight will abruptly die, no matter how well it was working before.
However, because she reads shoujo manga almost exclusively, she relates everything back to passionate emotion. Notes are never just passes to the principal; they're secret letters between estranged lovers. A shadow in the hallway is a rapist, a murderer, or the estranged lovers meeting. The protagonist will always win as long as he has his One True Love. She's not fussy or girly about this; she approaches the world as if it was a shoujo manga, and she is just a jaded player in it.
This also gives her a tendency to try and box people up, and she has four general categories for it: hero, villain, bystander, and background player. When people step outside this box, she tends to react poorly; this doesn't mean that when a villain is revealed to have a tragic past, she's shocked. She expects this. But when the villain is just being a d**k, well, she's surprised. A little bit.
Dedicated/Methodical - What Tate starts, Tate finishes, and in the proper order as well. This could mean breakfast, or a new RPG, or a book, or her school project (yeah right). She does not stop to pursue the side quests. She does not go out of her way to get to the secret chest in the far corner. If she begins to work on something she will pursue it methodically from Point A to Point B to point C to point Z, skipping no letter of the alphabet in between. Accordingly, if someone messes up her process, she can get quite irate - but she'll put it back together somehow and keep going. The catch is, she's got to start it, and that's the thing (at least at school) she can't quite manage.
Brave - Tate generally tries to avoid sticky situations, but when she gets into one, she'll do her best to get out of it without stopping - no matter how much she may stutter and trip while doing it - no matter how many people she feels she has to hurt to get out - no matter how ridiculously difficult it is. And then once she's out of it she'll pretend it never ever happened.
Flaws:
Shy - Tate doesn't much like to talk, nor spend a lot of time with people face-to-face. She'd sooner talk to you or over the phone or email than look at you in the face, and if she does talk to you in real life, she's not going to make eye contact and she's going to talk very softly and very politely. However, when she's not in your physical presence, her jaded, jealous personality comes to the forefront and she can be almost abrasive.
Jealous - Tate doesn't like being shown up, or people trying to befriend her friends; in fact, you could call her the ultimate possessive bestie, if you ever were unfortunate enough to make friends with her. She's very passive-aggressive about her jealousy - sure, you can skip spending the night with her to go on a date with your boyfriend, but she won't talk to you for a while afterwards, and any overtures at renewing friendship had better include chocolate, lots of hugs, and movies. Good movies, she doesn't want to see The Proposal again. Or The Hangover. That's just not cool, man.
Arrogant/Insecure - Tate believes that she's better than you, despite all evidence to the contrary. She will downplay your victories and lie about her own to make herself look better. This stems from the fact that Tate only really gets attention from her parents when she does something ~amazing~. Like, say she wins a competition of some kind - one at school. They'll be really happy and buy her a new game or something. The more she kicked a** in the intellectual arena, the happier they were.
Unfortunately, since she did very well in middle school, her parents expected more than As, they expect A+s. In high school, she wasn't able to meet that standard because of the heavy course load she took on, so she stopped trying. But in lieu of parental approval, Tate makes up stories about how the higher-performing kids cheat and makes them part of her "personal mythos" - the stuff she writes in her journal. Her insecurities stem from the fact that she knows she's lying and she wishes she wasn't; she's absolutely terrified of someone else finding out how to access her diary file and knowing all the lies she's written down.
Physical Description:
Hair: Chin-length, chestnut-colored, the left side (our left) slightly longer and tied off into a ponytail, as seen here: x.
Eyes: Round, somewhat large for her face. Brownish-green in color, sort of low-saturation that looks really dark.
Face: Heart-shaped with a widow's peak, high cheekbones, normally in a someone preoccupied/puzzled expression.
Body: The type that says I am only skinny because I have a good metabolism. She is all straight lines, gawky.
Fashion: Tate tends to wear long shirts and short shorts with leggings of some kind outside of school; in school, she wears black leggings to hide exposed skin. She always wears white sketchers slip-ons; they're too big and tend to fall off, but they're new, so she keeps wearing them. At home, she normally doesn't change out of her pajamas.
THE STORY ENTRY
It's Halloween -- that dark and eldritch time where everybody is convinced that nobody this year has thought up their radical costume of "iPod."
The news from the police is that if you encounter one of these strange "Negaversers" or "sailor senshi", they are to be considered armed and dangerous, and you should contact a policeman as soon as humanly possible to take them into arrest. You've all been warned that these people cause extensive property damage AND are responsible for the intent to injure a number of Destiny City civilians --
-- so when walking around one night, you find a crumpled-up, prone body in a ridiculous outfit that isn't just a bad Halloween costume. They're injured. Is it a Negaverser, or a Sailor Scout? Is this a trap? What do you do?!
Entry must be at least 200 words. No writing cap. Please don't use any senshi or Negaverse officers from the shop.
Her house wasn't popular on Halloween. It was out-of-the-way, and never gave out good candy. Tate knew this from the soles of her white slip-on Sketchers up to the top of her chestnut-colored head. It was usually her sad fate to eat the boxes of Good & Plenty, the ever-present 100 Grand bars, and plastic packaged Twizzlers Rainbow Twists that her parents tried to hand out to trick-or-treaters. Sometimes there were some Kit-Kats or Skittles left in the dish, but that was rare, and Tate knew better than to count on it.
Now that she was seventeen, she'd decided instead to use her own cash to get decent candy. She was thinking M&Ms, Skittles, maybe some taffy if she wanted to tempt her teeth falling out or something. And a soda, Cherry Coke sounded really good, or maybe that blue flavor of Mountain Dew with the World of Warcraft character on the wrapper. One Stop Shopping was only two or three blocks away from her parents' townhouse, which was easily close enough for her to hurry there and back and (probably) not get harassed by whatever threatening enemies were out there. Unlike previous Halloweens, she surmised there were no serial rapists or crazy people out-of-doors - just those "sailor senshi" and "Negaversers". But she had her cell phone to call the cops if she saw them (not like they'd get there on time but if she did die she at least wanted her murderers to go to jail).
So it was that Tate straightened her winter jacket and glanced down the street; she pulled her hood up to conceal her face just in case. Both parents were next door partying, and if they spotted her, she'd have to go home and hand out the lame candy herself. Not like they would scold me, thought the brunette, since that would require that they care. They said they cared. That was why she was supposed to stay home and hand out candy to trick-or-treaters instead of sleeping over with Zell as planned. It didn't quite seem like caring, she decided as she turned around to set the orange plastic bowl on the steps with a note: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE take them all, I don't want them!
Then she headed out towards the One Stop. It didn't seem so cold as she remembered it from earlier in the day, which she thought was a good omen. It might mean that she was destined to get down to the store unharmed. This was half true - she made it to the store, at least, but she stopped there to stare at a tiny slip of a girl. The girl sat hunched over on one of the blocks of concrete put into place to stop cars from ramming into the front of the one-stop; she wore a teeny black skirt and white tights and what looked like ballet slippers; she had messy dark hair that was falling all into her face, matted with something purplish and clotted-looking; her wrist was at a funny angle but she had a scarily triumphant smile on her decidedly peaky face.
In short, the girl looked like a senshi.
Tate took out her cell phone and pressed three numbers, but didn't hit the send button just yet. "Hello," she said, unnerved by the viscous fluids clotting in the tiny senshi's hair. "What happened to you?" More importantly, why hadn't anyone done anything about it, because if that was blood, that was not good. And there didn't seem to be any kind of person out looking for her - which didn't always mean anything, maybe she had an invisible protector or something, who knew how some of these senshi did the things they did in some of those viral videos on the internet - but it didn't seem right to leave this girl by herself.
"Ah - um - well - you see," the girl stammered, looking up and answering after a very very long minute, "There was this youma -" She looked around, her eyes wide with panic. Then she shook her head. "I think I broke my wrist," said the tiny senshi to herself, and then she laughed. It was a weak and mewling noise.
Youma, thought Tate. She knew what that meant, it was Japanese and some of her games she'd played enough to actually learn some of the language. The girl had to be in shock, or else Tate had to get out of there. Either way - she hit send on the phone, only to have it knocked out of her hands. The girl, who had been sitting quiescently on the cement barrier, was suddenly standing right in front of her. "Don't," the little teenager panted, "I can handle it." But her wrist was definitely at a bad angle.
"Nine-one-one what is your emergency" said Tate's phone from its spot a foot and a half behind her. Tate backed up three paces, going for her phone as it repeated, "Hello? What is your emergency--" She was bending down to pick it up when the girl suddenly seemed to vanish, and her phone shattered apart inches away from her hands with a garbled squawk.
Tate picked up the pieces of her phone and looked around. The senshi was gone. She sighed and shoved the debris into her pocket and headed into the store - just because she was now down a phone didn't mean she couldn't still get her candy.
Nicknames: Tate
Age: 17
Birthday: 24 December
Sign: Capricorn
Blood Type: A
Fav. Food: Chicken teriyaki with vegetables and steamed rice; casserole-type food; stews; submarine sandwiches
Hated Food: Stollen, a kind of sweet bread her mother makes; jolly rancher hard candies; spaghetti
School: Meadowview
Hobbies:
Playstation games - Especially two player fight simulators. The Soul Calibur series is her favorite, but she'll play Dead or Alive in a pinch. She also plays RPGs, but only the horror ones - Silent Hill, Haunting Grounds, Fatal Frame, Alone in the Dark.
Anime club - She made it. And then she let someone else be the president so she could be the secretary. Because she's the secretary, she probably gets called on to arbitrate fights a lot (we already watched Trigun three times this semester! no we haven't! yes we have tate what do the minutes say) but mostly she just goes to watch the shows. She likes being around the people, though, otherwise she'd probably just watch at home on the computer. You can find her in Room 201 every Tuesday from the end of class to five PM.
Reading - Game walkthroughs and shoujo manga when she should be doing her homework.
Drawing - Fanart.
Gemstone: Tree agate
Virtues:
Genre Saavy - Tate has read so much shojo manga and played so many RPGs that she can predict plot twists coming, even in real life. This isn't a power- it's simply awareness of her surroundings and a suspicious mind. For instance, if she's in a haunted house and a doorknob rattles, she won't touch it, because she knows that, for one, there's going to be something big and nasty on the other side of the door, and two, that if she does go down with a flashlight, the door will slam closed and lock and her flashlight will abruptly die, no matter how well it was working before.
However, because she reads shoujo manga almost exclusively, she relates everything back to passionate emotion. Notes are never just passes to the principal; they're secret letters between estranged lovers. A shadow in the hallway is a rapist, a murderer, or the estranged lovers meeting. The protagonist will always win as long as he has his One True Love. She's not fussy or girly about this; she approaches the world as if it was a shoujo manga, and she is just a jaded player in it.
This also gives her a tendency to try and box people up, and she has four general categories for it: hero, villain, bystander, and background player. When people step outside this box, she tends to react poorly; this doesn't mean that when a villain is revealed to have a tragic past, she's shocked. She expects this. But when the villain is just being a d**k, well, she's surprised. A little bit.
Dedicated/Methodical - What Tate starts, Tate finishes, and in the proper order as well. This could mean breakfast, or a new RPG, or a book, or her school project (yeah right). She does not stop to pursue the side quests. She does not go out of her way to get to the secret chest in the far corner. If she begins to work on something she will pursue it methodically from Point A to Point B to point C to point Z, skipping no letter of the alphabet in between. Accordingly, if someone messes up her process, she can get quite irate - but she'll put it back together somehow and keep going. The catch is, she's got to start it, and that's the thing (at least at school) she can't quite manage.
Brave - Tate generally tries to avoid sticky situations, but when she gets into one, she'll do her best to get out of it without stopping - no matter how much she may stutter and trip while doing it - no matter how many people she feels she has to hurt to get out - no matter how ridiculously difficult it is. And then once she's out of it she'll pretend it never ever happened.
Flaws:
Shy - Tate doesn't much like to talk, nor spend a lot of time with people face-to-face. She'd sooner talk to you or over the phone or email than look at you in the face, and if she does talk to you in real life, she's not going to make eye contact and she's going to talk very softly and very politely. However, when she's not in your physical presence, her jaded, jealous personality comes to the forefront and she can be almost abrasive.
Jealous - Tate doesn't like being shown up, or people trying to befriend her friends; in fact, you could call her the ultimate possessive bestie, if you ever were unfortunate enough to make friends with her. She's very passive-aggressive about her jealousy - sure, you can skip spending the night with her to go on a date with your boyfriend, but she won't talk to you for a while afterwards, and any overtures at renewing friendship had better include chocolate, lots of hugs, and movies. Good movies, she doesn't want to see The Proposal again. Or The Hangover. That's just not cool, man.
Arrogant/Insecure - Tate believes that she's better than you, despite all evidence to the contrary. She will downplay your victories and lie about her own to make herself look better. This stems from the fact that Tate only really gets attention from her parents when she does something ~amazing~. Like, say she wins a competition of some kind - one at school. They'll be really happy and buy her a new game or something. The more she kicked a** in the intellectual arena, the happier they were.
Unfortunately, since she did very well in middle school, her parents expected more than As, they expect A+s. In high school, she wasn't able to meet that standard because of the heavy course load she took on, so she stopped trying. But in lieu of parental approval, Tate makes up stories about how the higher-performing kids cheat and makes them part of her "personal mythos" - the stuff she writes in her journal. Her insecurities stem from the fact that she knows she's lying and she wishes she wasn't; she's absolutely terrified of someone else finding out how to access her diary file and knowing all the lies she's written down.
Physical Description:
Hair: Chin-length, chestnut-colored, the left side (our left) slightly longer and tied off into a ponytail, as seen here: x.
Eyes: Round, somewhat large for her face. Brownish-green in color, sort of low-saturation that looks really dark.
Face: Heart-shaped with a widow's peak, high cheekbones, normally in a someone preoccupied/puzzled expression.
Body: The type that says I am only skinny because I have a good metabolism. She is all straight lines, gawky.
Fashion: Tate tends to wear long shirts and short shorts with leggings of some kind outside of school; in school, she wears black leggings to hide exposed skin. She always wears white sketchers slip-ons; they're too big and tend to fall off, but they're new, so she keeps wearing them. At home, she normally doesn't change out of her pajamas.
THE STORY ENTRY
It's Halloween -- that dark and eldritch time where everybody is convinced that nobody this year has thought up their radical costume of "iPod."
The news from the police is that if you encounter one of these strange "Negaversers" or "sailor senshi", they are to be considered armed and dangerous, and you should contact a policeman as soon as humanly possible to take them into arrest. You've all been warned that these people cause extensive property damage AND are responsible for the intent to injure a number of Destiny City civilians --
-- so when walking around one night, you find a crumpled-up, prone body in a ridiculous outfit that isn't just a bad Halloween costume. They're injured. Is it a Negaverser, or a Sailor Scout? Is this a trap? What do you do?!
Entry must be at least 200 words. No writing cap. Please don't use any senshi or Negaverse officers from the shop.
Her house wasn't popular on Halloween. It was out-of-the-way, and never gave out good candy. Tate knew this from the soles of her white slip-on Sketchers up to the top of her chestnut-colored head. It was usually her sad fate to eat the boxes of Good & Plenty, the ever-present 100 Grand bars, and plastic packaged Twizzlers Rainbow Twists that her parents tried to hand out to trick-or-treaters. Sometimes there were some Kit-Kats or Skittles left in the dish, but that was rare, and Tate knew better than to count on it.
Now that she was seventeen, she'd decided instead to use her own cash to get decent candy. She was thinking M&Ms, Skittles, maybe some taffy if she wanted to tempt her teeth falling out or something. And a soda, Cherry Coke sounded really good, or maybe that blue flavor of Mountain Dew with the World of Warcraft character on the wrapper. One Stop Shopping was only two or three blocks away from her parents' townhouse, which was easily close enough for her to hurry there and back and (probably) not get harassed by whatever threatening enemies were out there. Unlike previous Halloweens, she surmised there were no serial rapists or crazy people out-of-doors - just those "sailor senshi" and "Negaversers". But she had her cell phone to call the cops if she saw them (not like they'd get there on time but if she did die she at least wanted her murderers to go to jail).
So it was that Tate straightened her winter jacket and glanced down the street; she pulled her hood up to conceal her face just in case. Both parents were next door partying, and if they spotted her, she'd have to go home and hand out the lame candy herself. Not like they would scold me, thought the brunette, since that would require that they care. They said they cared. That was why she was supposed to stay home and hand out candy to trick-or-treaters instead of sleeping over with Zell as planned. It didn't quite seem like caring, she decided as she turned around to set the orange plastic bowl on the steps with a note: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE take them all, I don't want them!
Then she headed out towards the One Stop. It didn't seem so cold as she remembered it from earlier in the day, which she thought was a good omen. It might mean that she was destined to get down to the store unharmed. This was half true - she made it to the store, at least, but she stopped there to stare at a tiny slip of a girl. The girl sat hunched over on one of the blocks of concrete put into place to stop cars from ramming into the front of the one-stop; she wore a teeny black skirt and white tights and what looked like ballet slippers; she had messy dark hair that was falling all into her face, matted with something purplish and clotted-looking; her wrist was at a funny angle but she had a scarily triumphant smile on her decidedly peaky face.
In short, the girl looked like a senshi.
Tate took out her cell phone and pressed three numbers, but didn't hit the send button just yet. "Hello," she said, unnerved by the viscous fluids clotting in the tiny senshi's hair. "What happened to you?" More importantly, why hadn't anyone done anything about it, because if that was blood, that was not good. And there didn't seem to be any kind of person out looking for her - which didn't always mean anything, maybe she had an invisible protector or something, who knew how some of these senshi did the things they did in some of those viral videos on the internet - but it didn't seem right to leave this girl by herself.
"Ah - um - well - you see," the girl stammered, looking up and answering after a very very long minute, "There was this youma -" She looked around, her eyes wide with panic. Then she shook her head. "I think I broke my wrist," said the tiny senshi to herself, and then she laughed. It was a weak and mewling noise.
Youma, thought Tate. She knew what that meant, it was Japanese and some of her games she'd played enough to actually learn some of the language. The girl had to be in shock, or else Tate had to get out of there. Either way - she hit send on the phone, only to have it knocked out of her hands. The girl, who had been sitting quiescently on the cement barrier, was suddenly standing right in front of her. "Don't," the little teenager panted, "I can handle it." But her wrist was definitely at a bad angle.
"Nine-one-one what is your emergency" said Tate's phone from its spot a foot and a half behind her. Tate backed up three paces, going for her phone as it repeated, "Hello? What is your emergency--" She was bending down to pick it up when the girl suddenly seemed to vanish, and her phone shattered apart inches away from her hands with a garbled squawk.
Tate picked up the pieces of her phone and looked around. The senshi was gone. She sighed and shoved the debris into her pocket and headed into the store - just because she was now down a phone didn't mean she couldn't still get her candy.
