Post by ARYA BJARTSKULAR CERIS on Dec 22, 2011 21:33:30 GMT -5
Arya Bjartskular Ceris • Senior • Female • Straight
Name: Arya Bjartskular Ceris
Age & Birthday: 17 years old. Born on the 30th of January
Gender: Female
Role:Student
Grade: Senior
L O O K S:
Arya was graced with pleasant looks, and she is aware of that. That is not to say she takes advantage of them however, for people like that are despised by her. The only part of her appearance she really dislikes is her eyes. Purple has always been her least favorite color and to have her eyes a strange light purple. Other than that, Arya stands at a tall stature of 5'10, and only looks taller due to a light weight. Her hair is dark in contrast to her pal skin, and gives her a more eerie appear that she doesn't mind one bit.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Likes: Water, the Outdoors, Animals, Plants, Life in general.
Dislikes: Human culture, Those who abuse power, Technology, crowds of people.
Hobbies: Sitting outside and observing the surroundings, Exploring and searching for new creatures.
Quote:
Arya is a usually stoic, impassive and reserved person; giving no hint as to what her emotions might be. When she did show them they tended to be very strong and for reasons most people would not expect. Most of this is due to the time she spent outside away from humans and engrossed in the lives of animals and insects and reptiles. She refuses most questions about her past, and the people that ask them. To people in general she treats most of them coldly and indifferently and with a very serious attitude.
One thing that Arya holds in strong distaste is traditional human gender roles, believing that she is no "Helpless female". Even after nearing 300 years old, she still does not understand why humans believe men and women should wear different things.
Perhaps because the amount of time she spent in seclusion, Arya is solitary, aloof, and withdrawn, always of a "solitary disposition" Usually she does not have company and can be found by herself. She tends to keep to herself and away from their social games. Unlike most people, Arya is direct and practical in speech, rarely wasting breath with expressions or similes.
H I S T O R Y
Mother: Marry Watson
Father: Tom Watson
Quote:
Arya was born to the Watson family in London by the name of Anabella Anna Watson. That was all she knew about her parents, for less than a year after she was born a fire struck the tavern she lived in. Saved by a customer herself, she was one of the only survivors. Her father and mother passed on before she really met them, and Arya was pushed into the foster car system for the next ten years. Manny adopting parents became fond of her, but sadly the way she never spoke or showed emotion seemed to turn them off. Arya was never fond of humans, and preferred to spend her time outside. The reason went unknown and her powers laid dormant for a long time.
And then, when Arya turned seven she found a steady foster home. It would be good news to any child being shuffled around, but sadly the home she was sent to was not a pleasant one. She knew almost immediately by the hollow eyes of the children there, that it would have been better to stay in the system being shuffled around. Within a week, her fears were confirmed when the foster dad turned violent. Never uttering a sound, Arya formed a strong distaste for humans that day, not even thinking about how she never thought of herself as one. It was also on that day she found out just how different she was. Escaping outside she flung herself onto the ground and cried, watching a nearby ant and just wishing she could be like it, collecting food. Simple and easy. Her thoughts about the ant managed to distract her, and as she focused on it and watched it crawl near to her, she couldn't help but think to it, "be careful not to get to close to me, I may squish you on accident little ant". When she made that though, it was like another conscious prodded against hers. Not really knowing what she was doing she reached out and held onto it. It was as if she was thrust out of her body and into the little ants, able to understand every instinct it felt, the way it moved, what it physically felt. Terrified, she pulled herself out of the and and closed off her conscious.
From that day forward, the thoughts of creatures slipped into her mind when she did not wish, and other times she found herself timidly reaching out to one in particular. Slowly the abuse at her house became worse and her powers grew stronger. Never did she mention it to someone though. For humans were something she never did trust. There was only one human she felt differently about. See, Arya was unable to enter the minds of a human, but she was able to sometimes feel there presence as she brushed her conscious against them and on the weaker minded could get a small feel for what they were like. It was much different from an animals and like a bright lite. An unpleasant feeling usually. But, when she was ten and out shopping, she noticed a tall silver haired man standing at a counter in a grocery store. Something about him seemed to alien, she couldn't help but stretch her conscious out to him. Unlike others, his presence felt warm and something about it was so unique it almost didn't seem human. What surprised her more than anything though, was when he turned and stared back at her and smiled. For the first time, she didn't feel as disgusted by the sight of a human.
For the next month all Arya could think about was that man. She wanted to see him again and that need almost drove her crazy. To her amazment though, a month and a half after she first saw him, and after she had almost given up, he showed up at her door and informed her that she was getting adopted, by him. Also to her surprise, Arya didn't object but went with it, changing her name to the one he thought fit best: Arya Bjartskular Ceris.
The man introduced himself as Osilon and she found it easy to open up to him. He informed her that he was like her, with special powers. Shocked Arya first felt threatened but then he explained that there were many like her. Once more she opened up, telling everything she knew about her own power. She told him how she felt towards people and the way he reacted without prejudice or concern made her think he was the same. However, He took a different approach. He taught her that all life, was created equally. From the ants foraging for food to the humans that walked the earth. Of course it took a good year for Arya to start to understand his way of thinking, and full comprehension did not come until he nursed her in the way of her powers. He taught her how to sit outside and open her mind to everything around her, becoming one with it all and gaining the ability to sense shifts in the pattern of life. To know what each animal did at what time, how the grass grew, what course a stream took and it's exact whereabouts. A tranquil peace that she had never before understood.As soon as she had a good mastery over her power at age 15, she was unable to ever eat meat again; having felt the pain of an animal as it died like it was her own. Osilon approved of her change and that was what made her more proud than anything.
When Osilon was convinced he had taught her all he could, and only age could do the rest, he told her his job was done. Arya did not understand why or what he meant until she returned home one day to find only a letter with an invitation to school on the counter. His room was cleared out and it was then she understood. She did not go to the school at first though, but grieved for a month. Then, finally she picked herself up and decided to go to the academy like he wished, and learn what he could not teach her.
Play-by: Kate Beckinsale
Power: Ecological Empathy
RP sample:
Freeman. An enigma. A guy no matter how hard, Kyra couldn’t figure out. People were sometimes mean to him, and sometimes he was mean to them. It scared Kyra, but because his wrath had never really been turned on her, she was OK with it. Besides, she liked freeman as a friend. Besides Dexter and her brother, he really was the only guy she felt semi-comfortable with. She wanted to please him and make him happy, so she was trying her best not to be a bother to him. That was one of the main reasons she had asked Dexter to go with her to the Fashion show and to her premier. Slowly she was learning that Freeman was well-known and that if she went out with him to an event like the fashion show, where everyone was being watched closely by paparazzi, it would start numerous problems for him. She was naïve yes, but even she knew that people would assume whoever she took was her boyfriend. With attention already on Freeman she couldn’t do that to him.
The fact that she wanted to make him happy was why Kyra was huddled over a desk with her hair strewn loosely back in a messy bun. Kyra moved a few papers, looking for the recipe. She knew it was somewhere in here. Kyra had gone into her brother’s office with the Recipe book to look for a pencil, and when she had returned to the kitchen to finish cooking, she had been unable to find the recipe again. It was on a white slip of paper and was for the oatmeal cookies she was baking. Not for herself of course, for she couldn’t eat stuff like that with her job, but for Freeman. All she needed to know was how much oatmeal to stir in and how long to cook them for. Not trusting her own judgment she needed that Recipe.
Her brother’s office was in general neat and tidy. It was a more modern look with dark wood walls and a beige floor. The main feature was his desk, black with a slight curve to it, with the center point being a black and being chair. In front of it sat two plain black chairs for clients. Behind the whole of it plastered to the wall was his Stanford Law degree. To the left of the desk was a large bookcase full of law books, and to the right was a locked glass cabinet in which you could see dozens of files of cases he had worked and prosecuted. It showed just how intimidating a man her brother was. So young and yet there were at least a few dozen files. Not the originals of course, but copies. In general her brother was an intimidating person. Luckily he was also a kind, neat and clean person.
But, in a rush like he was catching the plain to New York, he did have the tendency to forget to clean up. The reason why Kyra couldn’t find the recipe was because it had gotten mixed in with papers on his desk. Most of them were bills and stuff. She gathered it all into one pile so she could sift through it more productively. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a file had been left out and frowned. Curiosity took hold and she went to see the name on it. It was thicker than most of his files. She faltered though, as she saw a Kyra. J. Clark stamped across it in bold letters, and then the date stamped beneath it. The date was one for a few months after she had come to live with her brother. She didn’t look inside of it though, for she knew what she would find.
Pictures would be the first thing. At least a dozen pictures of her as a child and numerous ones of her when they had first gotten out of her old house. A few full body shots in which she hadn’t had the luxury of clothes, but one would be immediately distracted of that by the condition of her body. There were mostly Close-up’s of cuts and bruises and burns as they had to document each one. It wasn’t a pretty sight and you could hardly recognize her. Then would be information about her. Her Birthday, age, appearance, fingerprints. Then would be her testimonial, in which they had made her write out what had happened over the six years she had been with them. Or, the gist of it. Lastly would be pictures of her foster parents in mug shots, and information about each of them. She couldn’t bring herself to open it and see. She hated the fact the file was even out. Not because of the memories it held, though those were unpleasant for her, but because this meant her brother was looking at it. Sometimes she would catch him late at night bent over it with his head in his hands. She knew he blamed himself and felt helpless. No matter how hard she tried she was unable to say the right words to him, to make him see that it was NOT his fault and there was nothing he could do. He would say that he should have found her sooner, or that he should have prosecuted them to a deeper extent. Kyra’s greatest wish was for her brother to be happy, but it seemed as if she was holding him back from that.
Realizing she had been spaced off while staring at a picture of her and her brother as children on the desk, Kyra shook her head as if to dislodge her thoughts and send them away. She reached out slowly to take the framed picture of her and her brother. It was when she was little and she smiled seeing it. Her brother had a hand over her head and was grinning, while she was making a funny face. She would have dusted it off, but it was already spotless. It was a treasured possession to her brother after all. Kyra was about to turn back to her search when she heard the doorbell ring and froze. Freeman was earlier than she had expected and the cookies were not yet done, the recipe was not found, and she had not yet changed into something better.
Not having the heart to ask him to wait ten minutes, she decided to answer the door as was. In a pair of pink and black and white pajamas she received from VC, she shuffled to the door. As soon as she opened it and saw freeman she grinned. “Hello Freeman.” She greeted before stepping aside so he could come in. In an attempt to make up for her appearance she tried to explain. “Sorry I lost track of time... I was baking. Um, Oatmeal cookies cause I didn’t know what kind you liked… Um but then I lost the recipe in my brother’s office…“ .
The fact that she wanted to make him happy was why Kyra was huddled over a desk with her hair strewn loosely back in a messy bun. Kyra moved a few papers, looking for the recipe. She knew it was somewhere in here. Kyra had gone into her brother’s office with the Recipe book to look for a pencil, and when she had returned to the kitchen to finish cooking, she had been unable to find the recipe again. It was on a white slip of paper and was for the oatmeal cookies she was baking. Not for herself of course, for she couldn’t eat stuff like that with her job, but for Freeman. All she needed to know was how much oatmeal to stir in and how long to cook them for. Not trusting her own judgment she needed that Recipe.
Her brother’s office was in general neat and tidy. It was a more modern look with dark wood walls and a beige floor. The main feature was his desk, black with a slight curve to it, with the center point being a black and being chair. In front of it sat two plain black chairs for clients. Behind the whole of it plastered to the wall was his Stanford Law degree. To the left of the desk was a large bookcase full of law books, and to the right was a locked glass cabinet in which you could see dozens of files of cases he had worked and prosecuted. It showed just how intimidating a man her brother was. So young and yet there were at least a few dozen files. Not the originals of course, but copies. In general her brother was an intimidating person. Luckily he was also a kind, neat and clean person.
But, in a rush like he was catching the plain to New York, he did have the tendency to forget to clean up. The reason why Kyra couldn’t find the recipe was because it had gotten mixed in with papers on his desk. Most of them were bills and stuff. She gathered it all into one pile so she could sift through it more productively. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a file had been left out and frowned. Curiosity took hold and she went to see the name on it. It was thicker than most of his files. She faltered though, as she saw a Kyra. J. Clark stamped across it in bold letters, and then the date stamped beneath it. The date was one for a few months after she had come to live with her brother. She didn’t look inside of it though, for she knew what she would find.
Pictures would be the first thing. At least a dozen pictures of her as a child and numerous ones of her when they had first gotten out of her old house. A few full body shots in which she hadn’t had the luxury of clothes, but one would be immediately distracted of that by the condition of her body. There were mostly Close-up’s of cuts and bruises and burns as they had to document each one. It wasn’t a pretty sight and you could hardly recognize her. Then would be information about her. Her Birthday, age, appearance, fingerprints. Then would be her testimonial, in which they had made her write out what had happened over the six years she had been with them. Or, the gist of it. Lastly would be pictures of her foster parents in mug shots, and information about each of them. She couldn’t bring herself to open it and see. She hated the fact the file was even out. Not because of the memories it held, though those were unpleasant for her, but because this meant her brother was looking at it. Sometimes she would catch him late at night bent over it with his head in his hands. She knew he blamed himself and felt helpless. No matter how hard she tried she was unable to say the right words to him, to make him see that it was NOT his fault and there was nothing he could do. He would say that he should have found her sooner, or that he should have prosecuted them to a deeper extent. Kyra’s greatest wish was for her brother to be happy, but it seemed as if she was holding him back from that.
Realizing she had been spaced off while staring at a picture of her and her brother as children on the desk, Kyra shook her head as if to dislodge her thoughts and send them away. She reached out slowly to take the framed picture of her and her brother. It was when she was little and she smiled seeing it. Her brother had a hand over her head and was grinning, while she was making a funny face. She would have dusted it off, but it was already spotless. It was a treasured possession to her brother after all. Kyra was about to turn back to her search when she heard the doorbell ring and froze. Freeman was earlier than she had expected and the cookies were not yet done, the recipe was not found, and she had not yet changed into something better.
Not having the heart to ask him to wait ten minutes, she decided to answer the door as was. In a pair of pink and black and white pajamas she received from VC, she shuffled to the door. As soon as she opened it and saw freeman she grinned. “Hello Freeman.” She greeted before stepping aside so he could come in. In an attempt to make up for her appearance she tried to explain. “Sorry I lost track of time... I was baking. Um, Oatmeal cookies cause I didn’t know what kind you liked… Um but then I lost the recipe in my brother’s office…“ .
ARYA• 18• Female
