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 Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 2:21 pm
Character name: Jaida
Link to journal AND/OR Quest Thread: link
Describe your character's personality in less than 30 words: Someone who chooses to act childish and ignorant, but won't hesitate to pull off the mask to reveal her violent, vindictive side.
Does your character have a ship/ OTP? Zhi/Jay broship go~
Describe your character if they were a vegetable: Sweet Peas
What is your character's favourite music/ song/ piece? Blue Jay Way by The Beatles
What is your character's hobby, if they had spare time? Jewelry, voice percussion
Is your character more arts, science, or sports inclined? Sports
What type of personality traits does your character gravitate towards? Childish, hyper
What are your character's personality traits (Good ones?) Cheerful, moves forward, eager
What are your character's personality flaws? Hyperactive, sadistic
What is your character's favourite colour? Sea-green
Describe your character if they were in the opposite faction: Sun - Throwing knife
What would your character look like as the opposite gender OR 10 years into the future? MALE: Long hair in ponytail; more scarves yw
If your character was an Amityville Professor/ Divison Leader/ Horsemen Clans lead how would they teach others? Irresponsible, always looking for fun
Who does your character look up to? Death
What is a great weakness of your character? Always staying in the present, rarely thinking of the past or future
What are their favourite foods? Sweets
Favourite fashion style? Tribal with lots of handmade jewelry and bandages/scarves
Favourite minipet? Vaisel War
If your character was in a fantasy novel who would they be? A wild clansmen living in the mountains or forest
Describe your character as a mythical creature: Harpy
Describe your character as a Disney princess and/ or Villain Queen of Hearts
If your character could travel anywhere where would they go? Isle of War
If your character could confess one great secret what would they confess? If she could turn back time, she would
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 4:38 pm
Power
There was a feeling in her stomach, and she couldn’t pin down what it was. It had been innocuous at first, a mere pang deep in her gut that could be easily forgotten with a bit of training or a bit of hunting down familiar faces. But somewhere along the line the feeling had transformed into a pain, an animal clawing at the walls of her stomach and screaming for release. It was all a game, an illusion of the mind, yet no matter how many times she told herself it was a trick, the growling did not cease.
And one day as she lay in her cot curled into a tight ball, the answer came to her suddenly.
She needed power.
She wanted the sweet taste of strength on her tongue and she wanted to feel the power course through her entire FEAR core. Without strength and skill, she was nothing more than a shell waiting to be crushed beneath someone’s feet. A tiny, trembling prey. Something tickled the back of her mind—as if she had forgotten something important—but it was only the everlasting desire for something more.
More. More. More. She needed more, and she would climb through red to get it.
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Posted: Sat Mar 08, 2014 10:34 pm
Insanity
Sometimes she cannot tell if the cold is a realistic dream or reality. The frost pervades her body, thin vines creeping around her limbs and digging beneath her skin and worming their tendrils into everything that makes the warrior herself. It feels like ice replacing her veins with blood, transforming her fiery screeches and bubbling hate into something else, a frosty longing for a place she had lost for what seems like a short while ago. What is an eternity to a human is only the blink of an eye to her, a sigh that escapes her lips as misty puffs that disappear into nothingness. But as the fog disappears, half-lidded eyes stare with silent desire to return once more to home.
The isle remains fresh in her mind even years since its disappearance because a few years is nothing to her, and for that she is a smidge envious of humans. Humans are to her what mayflies are to humans—they live, breathe, and die within mere moments of their brief life. Each human life is a fleeting existence, and how nice that must be—to yearn for home for a second before Death grips your soul in his hands at last.
But for her? She is cursed to years and decades and centuries of searching for home. Everything blurs together in whites and blacks and greys. The world turns cold and silent when the word leaves her lips. Home. Home? The mist twirling around her is only a vain attempt to ease the cracked pieces of her core. No matter how many times she shrieks and weeps for home, home isn’t coming back.
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Posted: Sat Mar 08, 2014 10:35 pm
Warrior
She had always known what role she wanted to take within her clan. She had no interest in meticulously fiddling with the intricacies of traps like a Queen’s Soldier. For a while she had considered falling into line with the other Executioners because like many horsemen, there was nothing better than getting close and personal with the enemy. There was no better sensation than warm blood splaying your skin and clothes, and the look of hopelessness and fear swirling in their eyes. Yet there was nothing more exciting than the wind ran against her bare arms and the sound of her clothes loudly rippling against the gales.
It gave her odd pleasure to know she could fly higher than the others, fly faster and better than the rest of her clansmen. She was born with wings, it was only right to feel a special brand of pride when deemed a warrior amongst the others. Even if the wind ripped her to shreds, nipped at her tanned skin, she would continue to fly. She would climb into space and plunge toward her enemy with a bloody scream filling her lungs. There was no better sensation than nearly falling. No one could convince her otherwise.
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Posted: Sat Mar 08, 2014 10:35 pm
Friendship
Each time she holds him tight, she realizes how unexpectedly warm his fur is. Bandaged hands run through the giant plush of white, and each clump of strands are soft and ticklish beneath her bare fingers. The mound of fur around his neck is so large that he rarely ever feels it. Whenever she wraps her lean arms around his neck or grasps handful of his clothing while she climbs his long back her hands always subconsciously bury themselves in his fur, and she cannot explain why. They’re only tiny details she prefers not to dwell on because they are unimportant, the specifics that always slip through the cracks of her memories until they cease to exist altogether.
His fur is soft and warm, that’s all there is to it, she reasons to herself as she clings tighter to his back. The sanctuary is quiet, but unexpectedly so is she. Suddenly she feels tired and suddenly she wants to return to her dingy hut to lay down and rest, to curl into a ball next to him and sleep until the day begins anew. She’ll cling to his dragging sleeves so she can use them as a blanket for her tiny body, she’ll wrap herself in his smell and warmth and everything.
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