|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 2:43 pm
So, I'll have to do some digging to find all of my profiles, but I'll try to get as many as I can up here.
<3
-scurries off to get some already typed profiles.-
P.S. Some of these will be introductions because I do a lot of one on one roleplays, so I don't use profiles as often. However, characters that just have intros are usually characters I haven't used very much.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 2:45 pm
>>Captain Edmond Delmonte
[[From my first and last pirate roleplay, here is Captian Edmond, Delmonte. Edmond is taken from the Count of Monte Cristo. I love the characters' names in that movie.]]
A deep unpleasant sounding chuckle from a passing crew member was what woke the young captain. His eyes slowly opened, easily adjusting to the dim cabin light. In front of him his feet were resting on a cluttered table. Parchment paper, quills, half empty bottles of ink, a compass, all those things essential to his sanity and then some. He picked up the slightly ragged brown hat that sat on his stomach and brought it down upon the mess of hair on his head. Shaggy and unwashed, the dark brown hair came close to completely covering his right eye as a section of it swept down across his forehead. A scar ran at a slight angle down over his other eye, making a small 'x' where it crossed with a smaller scar just beneath the corner of his left eye. Both eyes were a hard gray-blue, useful for casting disapproving and sometimes threatening looks at the crew of his ship.
L'Amour Du Diable was the name of his ship. Fast, sturdy, and feared, she was everything a good ship ought to be. He kept a strict command over the crew, which had been thinned out and narrowed down over the years to a group of only the most skilled and loyal pirates. Cruel and clever, Captain Edmond Thoreau Delmonte had quickly developed a feared reputation, despite his young age. His quick hands and those cold eye that matched his bitter heart were always mentioned when rumours of him flew through towns.
Surprisingly the seemingly natural born Pirate Captain did not come from a family of pirates. With the rise of the bourgeoisie, his father became an important figure. Already an admired lawyer, him and his family enjoyed a more comfortable lifestyle when the upper middle class gained political power. However, when troops from an enemy navy raided the town they lived in, Edmond was separated from his family. He was just a young boy, and he survived by hiding in a the kitchen of a bakery. Wandering the streets after the raid, he found himself in a bar, one of the only buildings that was left completely standing. A kindhearted Pirate Captain took pity on him and took him in under his wing. Unaware that his family was alive and looking for him, Edmond began his life as an apprentice to the Captain of L'Amour Du Diable. Later, news reached him of his mother's death and the kidnapping of his sister. Then at the age of eighteen, he inherited the ship and crew when the Captain died. After the death of the man who had taken him in, he turned bitter and resentful. He began to treat the crew harshly and started the transformation into the fierce Pirate he was now known as. His search for his sister and those responsible for his mother's death continues, and as he grows more impatient, he seems to become more unsparing.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 2:48 pm
>>Giselle Narcisse DeBelseaux
[[In this intro, Giselle is a vamp, however she is one of my characters who's personality doesn't change that much when she shifts from one roleplay from the next.]]
With a bored sigh, Giselle closed the book in her hands and set it down on the table beside her. She liked to read very much, though she often found herself bored with the book available to her (as she did with other luxuries at her finger tips.) She stood from the large overstuffed armchair she sat in, and walked towards the door of the library. Books filled the shelves lining the walls, and a couple sets of chairs and wooden end table or two made the space into a decent reading room. There were no windows in the room; however there was a fireplace, though it was almost never used. Giselle shut the doors behind her as she stepped into the vast hallway.
One fair hand held a closed dark parasol, which she used to protect herself from the sun when she left the house. Her eyes were a deep blue-ish green like the sea which older generations of her family had sailed on their journey to England. As she walked down the hallway, she kept those eyes looking ahead. Her hair, a marvelous light brown was pinned up pieces fell down from the back of her head in curls. A section of hair in the front however swept across her forehead with a slight wave, overlapping some of her right eye as it did so. This and a smaller bit on her other side with the same gently wave helped frame her face.
Her free hand moved down to the skirt of her dress as she approached a set of stairs. She lifted it a little and moved from step to step. Her dress was a dark beautiful gray blue color with creamy detailing, and it suited her quite well. She had not gone far up the stairs when she heard a women's voice call after her, "Please wait a moment Miss!" She turned to see Charlotte, a girl not much older than herself coming towards her. Giselle's father had hired Charlotte to take care of Giselle and help her with various things. Mostly dressing and grooming in the morning and before parties, but she also accompanied Giselle when she went out. Just another luxury of being born into one of the two wealthiest and most powerful families in London. Giselle Narcisse DeBelseaux was her full name and she was the only daughter of Frederick DeBelseaux, current head of the vampiric family.
"Charlotte whatever it is you'll have to tell my father it must wait," She said as she stepped back down the stairs to meet her. "Jacques is taking me to see a new play tonight." Another thing she enjoyed was going to see plays, and her cousin Jacques often informed her when they were going on. He also accompanied her when the plays were not in the theatre in the eastern side of town, where her family's large estate was located. She had barely finished her sentence when a deep chiming came from a room not far down the hall. The clock inside it chimed once...twice... three times. They were both silent until the ninth chime came to there ears, at which point they could be sure it was dark out. Giselle smiled and held out the parasol for Charlotte to take. "It's dark by now, I won’t be needing this." She said.
"Miss, perhaps...just in case, maybe you ought to bring it." Charlotte offered the suggestion gently. Giselle paused and thought for a moment, and brought down her arm, parasol in hand, and nodded. "Yes, perhaps I should. Run me a bath when I get home." She added with a smile before taking off down a hallway going right from the one she had just come down. Behind her she could hear Charlotte’s footsteps disappearing up the stairs, and soon she was down a different set of steps.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 2:51 pm
>>Antonin Dolohov
[[I LOVE playing Antonin Dolohov, though I haven't had a lot of chances to play him, so I don't have a detailed profile yet. (This particular intro is from a roleplay in which he is transfering to Hogwarts.]]
A heavy black boot stepped onto the London train station platform. The other followed, bring with it the body of one Antonin Dolohov. As the eyes of passersby traveled up the strange appearance of this young man, they would see above these boots, black pants, and soon after the hem of a fairly heavy, fur trimmed coat. The hood covered most of his smooth dark hair. The deep dark brown seemed almost black in contrast to his fair skin. He was a devilish sort of handsome with an odd charm that was currently unnoticeable. His lips were twisted into a scowl and his usually intriguing brown eyes were full of bitterness and discontent. His nose had a slight crook, similar to the one that his father's carried. His father, who made him take such a degrading form of transportation as a train. This was how muggles traveled, not Dolohovs, pureblood wizards of Eastern Europe. It was almost as bad as the reason for traveling. His mother and father had, over the summer, debated the decision to send him to England to finish his schooling at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His mother would trail after his father all through the house, berating him in Russian.
"It is not good for a boy his age to be so far away from his Mother," she would insist. To which his father would respond with the argument that, "Being away from home will build character." Another common bone of discontent between his two stubborn parents was the issue of girls.
"He will find a perfectly good girl at this new school, why do you worry so much about the girls?" his father would say, shaking his head.
"English girls, ph'tooi!" Mother Dolohov would spit at the suggestion. "They are too frail and weak, they are not good enough for my Antonitchke. He needs a Russian woman who will be sturdy but also feminine."
"What, like that little Anika you pushed on him?" His father would laugh, launching another argument, which Antonin had no say in.
These arguments were not always limited to his mother and father. Antonin shared with his mother, the desire to stay and finish his school years at Drumstrang, so the arguments were also between him and his father. His father was a headstrong man, from whom Antonin got some of his stubbornness. Though his mother was also stubborn, a quality that her husband did not posses was cleverness. She knew when to pull what strings in order to control Antonin's father. However in this case it seemed that even their combined stubbornness and clever tricks and acts of persuasion could not save Antonin from Hogwarts.
Now, he stood on the platform looking around him with a look as if something unpleasant was creeping into all of his senses.
"Disgusting," he muttered under his breath as he started walking. The sooner he was out of that place, the better. He walked hastily, grinning as he toyed with the thought of playing a few "harmless" jokes on some of the people around him. He fingered his wand in the pocket of his coat, but soon enough the double doors leading outside were in view. As he approached them, his eyes quickly searched the area for the best candidate. He slipped his wand out quickly as he got closer to the door, and in a moment pointed it at a fairly chubby old man, and whispered a hex. He looked over as the man began to burp up all that he had eaten so far that day. Antonin chuckled to himself as he left the train station, slipping his wand back into his coat pocket. He had done all this rather discreetly, and as the door closed shut behind him he could hear from outside, the frenzied reactions of the muggles inside the building.
He was lucky that it was a chillier day in London, but still his coat was soon too much. It was needed as the winter had begun to clamp its iron fingers around Russia, quickly banishing summer and overpowering fall. He brought down his hood, which mussed his hair. Girls of varied ages around him seemed to take notice of this, though he was unfazed. He then unbuttoned his coat, revealing a long sliver of what was an elegant deep red button up shirt. His eyes scanned the street, looking for his escort. How off-putting it was for him to have first had to travel among many muggles, and then be made to wait.
It wasn't long before he saw a rather old fashion car slowly pulling up. As the car sat idle by the curb in front of Antonin, people leaving and entering the train station paused to look at its gleaming black exterior. He waited a moment, until it was certain that no one was going to get out and open the door for him. Sneering at the driver's window, he moved forward and opened the back door. In a swift motion, he slipped in and shut the door behind him. The car took off at a much quicker pace than it had arrived, but now with Antonin sitting unhappily behind the driver.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 2:53 pm
>>Marika Belikov[[An actuall profile, finally! xD It needs some updating though...
Anywho, this character is from a Demons and Angels at war roleplay, however she can be used for other roleplays in which there are demons.]]
Character name: Marika Belikov
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Allegience: Dark
Race: Demon
Personality: The Trickster. Goofs around a bit much, but often enough she can be dark and cold. Sometimes her sense of humour can take a turn into a more sarcastic, snarky tone; however she rarely has malicious intentions behind her jokes. She distances herself from angels, fallen angels, and stitched winged angels, partly for her own safety, but largely because of her allegiance to demons.
Powers: Darkness [controlling the Dark], Mind intrusion, Speed
What is by my side: A dagger stationed at her side. Black over all, the blade encrusted with dried blood.
Sexuall preference: Male, Straight or Bi, but preferably straight.
Background: She was orphaned at a young age, and lived with her closest relatives, her aunt and uncle for a while. This was during the war, and they raised her with nationalist sentiments, trying to protect her, but also passing their own ideas onto her. Because of that she supports the separation of Angels and Demons, and is biased against angels. She is reluctant to interact with angels and sticks to her own kind.
Other info: She has a soft spot for the Head Darkener [head demon]
Appearance: She inherently has dark, slightly thick, and slightly scraggly black hair, which might give her a sullen appearance. However, she usually pulls it up into large messy pigtails, which reflects her playful personality quite well. Thick bangs sweep diagonally across her forehead, overlapping the corner of her right eye. Small, but fairly thick horns twist back from the crown of her head, and bat-like wings protrude from her shoulder blades. For the most part, she keeps her wings a smaller size; however she can make them grow in size at will, (although she can only change back and forth between two sizes.) Other than the horns and wings, she has a rather normal appearance. Despite these dark features, she has smooth, pale, alabaster skin. One of her eyes is a bright playful green, lightly flecked with a darker forest green, while the other is a deep and intriguing turquoise blue color.
Hair reference, something like this, but black. Horn reference.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 3:00 pm
>>Parker Thomas
[[Little miss Parker probably has the plainest name of all of my character, however I might just love her the most. She was my very first roleplaying character and has gone through some drastic physical changes. I use her for Hogwarts roleplays, (all eras.) I'm always up for a Hogwarts roleplay, especially if it's a Marauder's era. ;3
Anywho.. this is her profile, circa year one at hogwarts.]]
Character Name: Parker Thomas
Age/Year: 11/First year
House: Gryffindor
Appearance: She was a bit on the tall side for a girl her age, making her limps and torso appear lanky. She had also been an early bloomer, though she didn't seem to take much notice of her newly aquired attributes. She mostly took after her mother in terms of appearance. She had her mother's high cheekbones, and her father's messy hair, (with her mother's color.) Choppy, layered, and slightly wavy dark brown hair fell to her shoulders and thick bangs swept across her forehead, over lapping a sliver of her right eye. Her skin was very fair and her lips were naturally a pale milky rose color. Having grown up so close to London and with mostly non-magical friends, she was used to wearing muggle clothing. You could usually find her in tattered jeans, and a military-esque jacket. Her usual shoes were an off white pair of sneakers. A muggle brand made by a man named Chuck Taylor. They looked as if they had grown up with her and been through quite a bit in the process.
Personality: Parker was nothing like her mother however when it came to personality. She took after her father in sense of humour and spontaneity. She procrastinated a lot, but some how managed to do rather well in her classes. Parker was a silly, and slightly clumsy, girl who rarely took life seriously. However surprisingly she did have her moments of being serene and quiet. In fact she could be rather removed at times.
Bloodline/Parents/Family information: Parker is half wizard [pureblood] and half muggle. Her mother was a smart witch by the name of Anya Demidova, who was in Ravenclaw. Her family was a pureblood family, and was very controlling. They wanted to marry Anya off to a pureblood wizard, but a little less than a week before the arranged marraige, she ran off with a muggle boy. His name was Peter Thomas. While Anya was not pale but somewhere between fair and tan, with very light brown locks, Peter was fair with thick messy black hair. Somewhere in between was Parker. In terms of personality, Parker mostly took after her father. He was spontaneous and strange. Anya fell in love with him and in an act on spontinuity, took off. She hasn't been in touch with her family since then, but both her and Peter are still alive./She has a younger brother, not old enought to go to Hogwarts. His name is Demitri and he's only nine years old. He's extremely shy, and is always reading. A smart young boy with large curious blue eyes. Adores his older sister, and rarely speaks.
Wand:14 inches with a scale from a Antipodean Opaleye Dragon.
Broom:Comet 290
Anything else: Although neither of her parents were exceptional quidditch players, it runs in Parker's blood. A few famous players were in her mother's side of the family, and she somehow inheirited a nack for the game. She also grew up playing half-assed games with her father in a secluded field near their home.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 3:06 pm
>>Vera Maxwell
[[Probably psychotic, Vampire mafia girl. <3 <3 <3
Her partner in crime is another vamp named Dorian, who oddly enough used to be a demon character I used for teen titans roleplays. I've been too lazy to make his profile. x3]]
Character name: Vera Maxwell
Gang: Schadenfreude
Appearance: Standing at 5' 6" she has a small frame, and is rather petite. She has dark brown hair which is cut into a bob, popular amongst flapper girls, framing her heart shaped face. Her eyes are large and pale blue, though against her porcelain skin they can look brighter (or darker depending on the light.) Her lips are naturally a pale rosy color.
Her clothing varies from custom tailored pinstriped skirts and vests, to shorter dresses similar to the ones flapper girls wear.
Personality: Vera is very quiet, and she is able to hide her emotions very well, so you never quite know what she is thinking. She will talk to the gang leader occasionally, but mostly she lets her partner Dorian do the talking. He's the one she talks to most only he can actually tell what she's thinking.
Vera is an odd individual, and the name of the gang she belongs to fits her perfectly. At some time in her past she just sort of snapped. She loves the violent parts of her job, especially when she can mess with her victim in some way.
Background information: The young vampire was sired on the streets of Paris, in the late 1800's, on her way home to her husband. She felt it was just what she needed, almost a sign. The man she had once loved, and devoted herself to had turned out to be a disappointment once he legally had her as his wife. That's when she had a "change of mind" so to say.
That evening when she came home, she was greeted by her husband, and all of his expectations of her. Playing along, she made him tea, and met him in the bedroom. When the police found him, he was sprawled on the bed, with the words, "Joueux Anniversaire," carved into his chest in an elegant script.
She disappeared after the murder, lurking around France for a while, staying low. Soon she traveled to England in hopes of some sort of improvement on her rather poor lifestyle. That's where she met Dorian. He had already been sired and he introduced her to the life of crime. They worked as contract killers for a little while before finding themselves in America, accepting an invitation to join Schadenfreude.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 3:11 pm
>>Mekinzie Rose Walker, (a.k.a Mickey, or Walking Mickey.)
[[I like this character a lot. She's from an A Clockwork Orange roleplay, so she uses a lot of slang and curse words. The personality section of her profile reaaalllly needs updating. D:
Oh, and I never chose a weapon for her. I think she just kicks major a** with her doc martens. ]]
Username: Toast of Doom
Name: Mekinzie Rose Walker
Group name: Mickey
Age: 18
Weapon: n/a
Appearance: Dressed in the punk fashion associated with The Warriors, what is unique to her, is the retro mickey mouse hat she wears when out and about with her droogs. Her hair is black as night save for the thick bangs swooping down over her left eye. A good portion of that hair was died pink. Long sections of hair framed her face and her hair gradually got shorter as it came around to the back of her head. She wore bunch of chains around her neck, all connected and small trinkets dangling from some including a cross and a lock. Fingerless gloves covered her hands, and a worn out and studded old pair of Dr. Marten boots, looking as if they were taken right off the feet of a british punk in the 80's, was what she wore on her feet. Also, black fishnets stockings under baggy olive green cargo pants held up by a black studded belt. Lastly, on her torso was usually a white wife beater underneath a cut up black t-shirt with a sloppy logo on it. Then, even over that she sometimes wore a small millitary style jacket that was cut so it stops right below her chest.
Personality: Mostly quiet around those not in her gang, unless provoked, or just in a mood. Sort of bitter, and good at holding a grudge. Reserved when it comes to her personal life.
History: Her father was a general in the military and they moved from town to town. Soon, her mother caught him having an affair and he took off and left them. Now, she lives alone with her mother who drinks much more than she should. Mekinzie basically has to take care of her mother and herself. She got into the warriors right before the start of her junior year in highschool, during those last few days of summer.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 3:21 pm
>>Lott.
[[Ooh, this brings back memories. This is a character I used for teen titans. I had a whole little story to go along with what started out as him and Rawnie (next post,) and turned into him, Rawnie, Dorian and a character named Sonya.]]
Character name: Lott
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Appearance: Standing at 6' Lott is gives off grim appearance to those who don't know him. He looks thin, but is not scrawny. Well built, but not extremely muscular, Lott does not rely on his strength. Rebelious dark brown hair goes just past his ears and sweeps across his right eye. Never the one for combed back hair, he does not put alot of effort into his hair. His eyes are a penetrating blue, only adding to his grave appearance. He has a tattoo of a symbol where his neck meets his right shoulder and back.
His jeans are a dark vintage, and they lead to neon green converse shoes, a surprising choice for someone so serious. His shirt is a plain dark red T-shirt. Black and pink striped arm warmers run from his thumbs past his elbows.
Personality: Lott is not the kind of guy to take set-backs lightly. He is determined and strong-willed. He is also quite serious about many things. He if more logical than rash, which has worked to his advantage on some occasions. Despite being hardheaded, he is very caring for those who are near to him (which are few.) He often shows this by worrying. Through all of these qualities, Lott is still able to have fun...sometimes.
Powers/Weapons: He is able to appear and vanish where ever he desires, leaving a small cloud of dark grey smoke behind. Lott can also control matter, in a way. He can multiply things, change their size, disguise them. Almost anyway you can think of, he tamper with things. He cannot change humans or make things completely disappear though.
Any other information: He is "partners in crime" with Rawnie.
Alliance: Villain
History(optional): [To be added.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 3:24 pm
>>Rawnie
[[Rawnie, like Parker, has had adjustments made to her many times.
Note the difference between the profile and intro. xD ]]
Name:Rawnie
Sex:Female
Age:17
Build: Thin, but not petite. Her chest size is about a B. She a little bit taller than the average height of a 17 year old.
Hair Color: Black hair, with recently dyed teal tips.
Hairstyle:Straight and layered, it falls just below her shoulders. Slightly jagged bangs run fairly straight across the top her eyes. On each side of her face, small sections of hair stop in between her bangs and the rest of her hair, falling down when she ties her hair up.
Appearance:Rawnie is 5'11" and rather thin. Despite her her slimness, she has a pleasant figure. Thick wavy black hair falls just below her shoulders. Her almond shaped eyes are a deep purple, with phlecks of lavender and she has two peircings on her left eyebrow. Her lips are naturally darker, and her nose is also peirced. Her skin is an oddly light tan color, some might use the oxy-moron 'pale tan' to describe it. She always wears her large black boots, despite their size, she able to move swiftly and quietly in them when she wants to. The boots don't quite reach her knee caps, but they end only an inch below. They are hidden for the most part anyway by dark, worn out jeans that have rips and holes developing in places. She also wears a black ribbed tank top. A silver and emeral amulet that her mother gave to her hangs around her neck. Many bangles, bracelets and strings adorn her wrists, and her ears are pierced three times.
Personality: A word that would help you uderstand Rawnie is "nymph." She is rather playful and mischevious. She loves to mess with the opposite sex. Rawnie he can also be a bit flirty, but not too much. She doesn't take life as seriously as others do.Rarely serious, when she is, it is in a bitter and somwhat sarcastic manner. Not very loving or pitiful of the human race, she does however have a weakness for animals.
History:She comes from a long line of gypsies that have the gift of tounges, (some have other odd powers.) Her mother, one of the last remaining gypsies of her family, had fallen in love with an artist. Confused, and wanting nothing to do with the baby, abonded Rawnie and her mother. Rawnie's mother brought her back to live with her Grandparents and the three of them raised her. They soon traveled to America, learning the language immediately, the blended in. A terrible accident caused Rawnie to lose a great portion of her memory and seperate her from her family. Living on her own she had nothing but her grandfather's old dagger, and a few other items. Luckily, a sypathetic owner of a rundown inn, lets her stay in one of the rooms for a small fee. She is determined to figure out her past, and bit by bit, memories have returned to her.
Her boots came down hard on the pavement, everyonce in a while landing in a puddle. Rawnie cursed in her mind as she felt the water splash onto her legs, and small quick drops came down upon her head. There was no time to be silent, sneaky, she had to get away and the sooner the better. 'This is what he was good at,' she thought bitterly. 'With that speed of his..' Her newly aquired fortunes, jingled in her pockets as she ran down the dimly lit sidewalk. She could hear the voices of police officers fading behind her. A small grin split her lips as she glanced behind her before rounding a corner. Rawnie knew she couldn't keep running like this. She'd grow tired. They'd get her. She slowed down and without looking at the name of the shop, opened a door and went inside. Making her way to the back of the store, she had to navigate through old dressers, rollingtop desks, porcelain dolls and other various items, some of which looked as if they belonged in a museum. Just now stopping to catch her breath, she looked towards the front of the store and was glad to see that the windows and door were now barely visible through the clutter.
Looking inside large nearby mirror, Rawnie took in her appearance. Thick straight black hair was drenched by rain, causing her bangs to stick to her forehead, coming close to the tops of her eyes. Below those bangs dark green eyes moved down to see the rest of her current state. Dark blue top, slipping off her shoulders, sticking to her dull, almost pale tan skin. A tan-ish vest over that, it's pockets stuffed with her loot. A black belt sat on her lower hips over a dark ashy gray skirt. Black and teal striped knee high socks were underneath black boots that came up to the middle of her shins.
The boots. She could moves swiftly and silently in them when she wanted to, but earlier there had been no time for that. Now, they were splattered with dirt and water. She cursed once more, under her breath as she noticed this. How careless. Her ex-partner had been speedy, but she was neat. She had been pick-pocketing for a while, she had gotten good at it. Very good. Rawnie's mother, a gypsie who had fallen in love with a young american boy, had no other choice but to leave her at an Orphanage when she was young. The two were broke and unwelcome with their families soon after they eloped. Her mother left her with one thing, a necklace. This necklace that she wore at all times had silver and green amulet. On the rare occasions when the amulet slipped from under her shirt and dangled freely from her neck, it only helped to bring out her eyes. Rawnie got out of the Orphanage as soon as she could, and the women who ran it, were releived to see her go. She had caused them quite a bit of trouble. Or rather, her and her powers did. She'd had them every since she could remember. One young boy once called her a changeling, but infact this wasn't right. What changelings could do to their bodies, Rawnie could do to the things around her. She could change matter. The color, the feel the size, even the basic structure of an object. What really made her intolerable to the Nuns was her other power. Rawnie could transport herself instantly to another location, leaving a small puff of purple smoke behind her.
Now, as she looked around the shop, her mind put together the pieces. It was an antique shop. And antique shop which she had tracked mud into. She only hoped that the owner would not appear anytime soon.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
