Post by Sashura on Jan 19, 2014 19:20:03 GMT
Real Name?
(Cara O'Dea)
Nick Name?
(Carabear)
How many years have you been RPing, or is this your first time?
(Been away from forums for a few years but was since i was 14)
What is your average post length? (Only answer if you have RPed Before.)
(100-200 +)
What brought you to our site?
(Admin and Bestie created)
Picture of Face Claim!
Password?
(edited)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Cara O'Dea)
Nick Name?
(Carabear)
How many years have you been RPing, or is this your first time?
(Been away from forums for a few years but was since i was 14)
What is your average post length? (Only answer if you have RPed Before.)
(100-200 +)
What brought you to our site?
(Admin and Bestie created)
Picture of Face Claim!
Password?
(edited)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Characters Name:Sashura
Alias:Sasha, dystonia
Race:Human
Personality: Extremely kind hearted willing to give her last piece of food for those in need. However as a result of her troubled past she is very guarded and may seem like a loner.
Face Claim: Lauren German
Class:Rouge
Weapons:
Two Bersa Thunder 380's
Three Lightning Bolt throwing knives w/ shoulder harness
Homemade Aconitum Poisons
Prized VSS Vintorez (rarely used due to scarce gas and sentimental value)
Fingerless SAP Gloves
Life Story: Born in Moscow, Russia Sashura grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth and held under a watchful eye. However being the daughter of a Russian Official, Sasha was kept under his thumb and at the age of seven was forced into the role of caretaker after her mother died of leukemia, leaving her the responsibility of her younger brother Alexander. After this piercing loss the family uprooted to America to only be placed in a small community near the Russian Embassy in DC. Taught by family's friends at a young age, Sasha became adept at the Russian Martial arts of Systema as well as many homemade remedies and poisons, also leading to gun control as well as tactical knife throwin in the later years. Throughout her teen years, Sasha strived for her fathers approval all the time still providin a structured shelter for her only sibling. Upon her eighteenth birthday she finally gained the consent she strived for when her father presented her with the prized family sniper rifle, being past down throughtout the generations. As she was informed one day that her father would be traveling for a confernce she thought nothing of it, familiar with this occurance she bid him good bye (unknown to her) for the last time. As the new regime began to take over Sasha astutely took all she could carry and along with Alex she traveled far from home, knowing that DC would be the first to fall. As the year passes Sasha and Alex found the sanctuary named The Hallow, known to be the last "safe" place left for them. However due to their experiences reachin there they remain recluses only choosin to live on the outskirts, not keen to develop any close friendships coupled with the fear or betrayal or abandonment.
RP Sample:
-steppin out of the small roost that she has been called home for three months now, Sasha feels the warm sunshine graze her pale skin. Turnin around to double check that her routine trip traps were set in place, before she trots away knowin in the back of her mind if anyone with mind as duplicitous as hers would easily see right thru the laid plans. She briskly treads across the now barren land to a small lush area she had been fostering, kneelin down to check the progress of the various plants, some bein edible, some only the brave would dare taste. Selectin a few matured navy coloured she pulls out her hand sewn leather gloves, grippin firmly at the base yankin upwards before shortly placin it at her right hand side.-
-Finally appeased with her collection of shoots she raises herself up on her good, left knee, scannin her surroundins for any tell tale of danger. Not completely content but appeased for the moment she quickly jaunts back towards their home, pausin for a second to admire the indigent though honored home that her and Alex has made together. Once again careful of her devices she meanders into their residence, goin to set up the now common task of lightin their stove, removin all the excess ash into a nearby metal container before addin a few pieces of wood ensurin that the wood is entwined for an easy flame start. Adding a few small twigs she begins to strike a small piece of iron against a worn flint, missin the luxury of a bic immensly. Finally obtainin a small wisp of smoke she bends in further to blow cautiously into itleadin the heated wood along to grow into a small but standard fire. Sittin back on her heels she secretly gives herself credit knowin how many times she had to fail before perfectin this technique-
-Feeling the heat wash over the small hut she turns to gaze out the window searchin for the recognizable figure of her younger brother, knowin that if he was near she would be unable to spot him as he has followed her footsteps learnin stelth very well. Still feeling slightly concerned she instead focuses on the current task at hand rummagin thru their small belongins to find a small iron pot before placin it carefully over the now growin but contained fire. Walkin a few steps over to survey their dwindlin water supply she sighs knowin she has to travel out soon to find some more suitable stock, kneelin down to reach for the nearby used cup careful to fill it as much as she can without wastin and headin back to pour into the growin heated pot. Continues this task a couple more times before she impatiently waits for the slightly clear liquid to become a rollin boil, swiftly donnin her gloves again grabbin the bundle of monkshood and placin it into the water knowin that her bottle of poison are gettin low-
Alias:Sasha, dystonia
Race:Human
Personality: Extremely kind hearted willing to give her last piece of food for those in need. However as a result of her troubled past she is very guarded and may seem like a loner.
Face Claim: Lauren German
Class:Rouge
Weapons:
Two Bersa Thunder 380's
Three Lightning Bolt throwing knives w/ shoulder harness
Homemade Aconitum Poisons
Prized VSS Vintorez (rarely used due to scarce gas and sentimental value)
Fingerless SAP Gloves
Life Story: Born in Moscow, Russia Sashura grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth and held under a watchful eye. However being the daughter of a Russian Official, Sasha was kept under his thumb and at the age of seven was forced into the role of caretaker after her mother died of leukemia, leaving her the responsibility of her younger brother Alexander. After this piercing loss the family uprooted to America to only be placed in a small community near the Russian Embassy in DC. Taught by family's friends at a young age, Sasha became adept at the Russian Martial arts of Systema as well as many homemade remedies and poisons, also leading to gun control as well as tactical knife throwin in the later years. Throughout her teen years, Sasha strived for her fathers approval all the time still providin a structured shelter for her only sibling. Upon her eighteenth birthday she finally gained the consent she strived for when her father presented her with the prized family sniper rifle, being past down throughtout the generations. As she was informed one day that her father would be traveling for a confernce she thought nothing of it, familiar with this occurance she bid him good bye (unknown to her) for the last time. As the new regime began to take over Sasha astutely took all she could carry and along with Alex she traveled far from home, knowing that DC would be the first to fall. As the year passes Sasha and Alex found the sanctuary named The Hallow, known to be the last "safe" place left for them. However due to their experiences reachin there they remain recluses only choosin to live on the outskirts, not keen to develop any close friendships coupled with the fear or betrayal or abandonment.
RP Sample:
-steppin out of the small roost that she has been called home for three months now, Sasha feels the warm sunshine graze her pale skin. Turnin around to double check that her routine trip traps were set in place, before she trots away knowin in the back of her mind if anyone with mind as duplicitous as hers would easily see right thru the laid plans. She briskly treads across the now barren land to a small lush area she had been fostering, kneelin down to check the progress of the various plants, some bein edible, some only the brave would dare taste. Selectin a few matured navy coloured she pulls out her hand sewn leather gloves, grippin firmly at the base yankin upwards before shortly placin it at her right hand side.-
-Finally appeased with her collection of shoots she raises herself up on her good, left knee, scannin her surroundins for any tell tale of danger. Not completely content but appeased for the moment she quickly jaunts back towards their home, pausin for a second to admire the indigent though honored home that her and Alex has made together. Once again careful of her devices she meanders into their residence, goin to set up the now common task of lightin their stove, removin all the excess ash into a nearby metal container before addin a few pieces of wood ensurin that the wood is entwined for an easy flame start. Adding a few small twigs she begins to strike a small piece of iron against a worn flint, missin the luxury of a bic immensly. Finally obtainin a small wisp of smoke she bends in further to blow cautiously into itleadin the heated wood along to grow into a small but standard fire. Sittin back on her heels she secretly gives herself credit knowin how many times she had to fail before perfectin this technique-
-Feeling the heat wash over the small hut she turns to gaze out the window searchin for the recognizable figure of her younger brother, knowin that if he was near she would be unable to spot him as he has followed her footsteps learnin stelth very well. Still feeling slightly concerned she instead focuses on the current task at hand rummagin thru their small belongins to find a small iron pot before placin it carefully over the now growin but contained fire. Walkin a few steps over to survey their dwindlin water supply she sighs knowin she has to travel out soon to find some more suitable stock, kneelin down to reach for the nearby used cup careful to fill it as much as she can without wastin and headin back to pour into the growin heated pot. Continues this task a couple more times before she impatiently waits for the slightly clear liquid to become a rollin boil, swiftly donnin her gloves again grabbin the bundle of monkshood and placin it into the water knowin that her bottle of poison are gettin low-
