Post by Calla Marsden on Jan 5, 2009 1:27:42 GMT -4
[/color] Dance
CALLALEANN, MARSDEN
-----------------------------------------
There are days when I'm scared
to talk to someone else
But I'll have courage and talk
About myself
;;_back to BASICS
name;; Calla Leann Marsden
nickname;; Cal
age;; 15
birthday;; 23 June 2005
place of birth;; Madras, Oregon
gender;; xx
sexuality;; Straight
canon;; No
year;; Sophomore
occupation;; Student
;;_craving for POWER
power clique;; Precognition
sub-skill;; Psychometry
ability stats;; the stat points will be given by the admins upon approval of application. The better the app, the more the stat points given, so make it impressive. For more help please go here.power;; signifies your characters power level
control;; signifies your characters control level
sub-skill;; signifies your characters mastery of his/her sub-skill
known limits;; Calla's control of her power is tenuous at best. She really has no idea of what triggers her visions and she's typically taken aback when one strikes. This makes it hard for her to focus on what she's seeing. Oftentimes, she'll come back into the present with no memory of what she saw. On the rare occasion that she does remember what her vision was about it is usually in the form of abstract images and perhaps an overall feeling. Visions that are particularly disturbing (violent, scary, etc) tend to be far more distressing and she will react as though she just escaped from a similar situation. For example, if she were to view a future involving a fire within the school, she would feel the adrenaline rush of trying to escape safely.
Calla tends to lose track of time when experiencing visions – she'll forget the date, day of the week, even the year if she spends to long looking into the future (voluntarily or involuntarily). In addition to being extremely disorienting – and, at times, embarrassing – losing track of time is extremely distressing to Calla. It is for this reason that she always wears a watch.
Her psychometry poses a similar problem for Calla. It is possible for her to get so caught up in reading an object that she forgets where she is or, in extreme cases, who she is. Her psychometry is even more temperamental than her visions, choosing to work only at what seem to the be the most inopportune moments – when she's in class, when trying to navigate through a strange area, or when she's exhausted, for example.
power history;;Calla always considered herself a bit more sensitive than most kids. Not just in the emotional, easily upset sense, but also in the sense that she was more aware of what was going on around her. She always fancied herself a bit of a medium and imagined herself having psychic powers of one sort or another. Her early years were filled with days of pretending to be a superhero of some sort or another, casting magical spells or talking to “ghosts” supposedly roaming the halls of their house. Little did she know that her dreams would one day become reality.
At 14, Calla started to have spells when she would become unaware of her surroundings. She would fade out of awareness, only to come back to herself some time later. Sometimes it was only several breaths before she regained her senses, others it was much longer. Her parents took her to several doctors, trying to find out what was going on with their daughter, but to no avail. Despite multiple prescriptions, therapy sessions, and adjustments to her daily routine Calla still continued to lose her sense of reality. After nearly a year of doctor visits, the family gave up on finding out what was going on. Perhaps, they thought, science would find an answer in the next few years.
In the meantime, Calla was spending more and more of her time unaware of her surroundings. She started drifting off when she would touch an object in addition to spells when she would space out for no apparent reason. After a while she started to remember some of what happened while she was essentially unaware. She would wake up remembering snippets of some scene or another, almost as if trying to remember a dream she had had overnight. Her strange spells continued to be a mystery no matter how clear her memories of her time “away” were.
Through her time at Sententia Academy, Calla has come to better understand the mystery that has plagued her for the last year and a half. While she now has a name for her experiences, she still has a hard time coming to grips with the fact that she has the power she's dreamed of having since she was a child. She's pleased to have her dream realized, but still petrified of what the future holds – despite having seen bits and pieces of it.
;;_mirrors reveal real APPEARANCE
celeb claim;; Kristen Alderson
height;; 61 inches
weight;; 105 pounds
eye color;; Blue-gray
hair color;; Light brown
assets;; Her eyes, especially when she smiles
flaw;; Several scars in various places, most notably the base of her skull
distinguishing mark;; Single piercing in each ear; multiple scars (one at the base of her skull, another on her right upper arm, and one on her stomach are the most noticeable)Calla is quite short for her age, standing at only 5'1”. She's rather thin, due to a combination of her active lifestyle and good genes. Her straight, light brown hair falls about her shoulders. Though she usually wears it down she will pull it back on occasion, mainly for dance classes. When down, her hair makes a convenient curtain to hide behind during awkward situations. Blue-gray eyes are nearly incapable of hiding what she's really feeling – a fact that is especially obvious when she smiles.
As far as clothing goes, Calla prefers simplicity over style. She's most comfortable in jeans and a simple top – t-shirts in summer, sweaters in winter, perhaps a sweatshirt over the top of whatever she's wearing if it's too cold. She dislikes anything too “girly” - frilly tops included in addition to skirts and dresses. She will dress up if the right situation presents itself, though otherwise will not venture outside her comfort zone. She's not a big fan of makeup, feeling it takes more time than it's worth, so she doesn't own any. On the very rare occasion that she dresses up to go out with friends, she may allow one of her friends to put a bit of makeup on her face, though such occasions are few and far between.INTORVERTED * LOYAL * EMPATHETIC
;;_we have our own INDIVIDUALITY
likes;; at least five
[/li][li][/color] Music
[/li][li][/color] Being warm
[/li][li][/color] Funny shows and movies
[/li][li][/color] People who take the time to get to know her
[/li][li][/color] Chocolate
[/li][li][/color] Being with friends
[/li][li][/color] People with a good sense of humor
[/li][li][/color] The ocean
[/li][li][/color] Reading[/li][/ul]
dislikes;; at least five
[/li][li][/color] Being rejected
[/li][li][/color] Math
[/li][li][/color] Relying on others for help
[/li][li][/color] Having to conform to others' expectations
[/li][li][/color] Horror movies
[/li][li][/color] Loud, crowded places
[/li][li][/color] Storms
[/li][li][/color] Rote memorization
[/li][li][/color] Horror movies[/li][/ul]
dreams;; at least five
[/li][li][/color] To find her “other half”
[/li][li][/color] To learn at least one other language
[/li][li][/color] To graduate school (preferably with good grades)
[/li][li][/color] To learn to talk to people without being so nervous[/li][/ul]
fears;; at least five
[/li][li][/color] Busy intersections
[/li][li][/color] Thunderstorms
[/li][li][/color] Getting lost
[/li][li][/color] Losing her family[/li][/ul]
eccentricities;; Calla has several habits, though none of them are particularly odd. She tends to bite her nails, sometimes to the point that her fingers are sore. She also chews on the inside of her cheek or lip when she's nervous. Lastly, she plays with her hair, twirling it around her finger or tugging on it.
If Calla's personality had to be summed up in one word, that word would be “introvert.” She is incredibly shy, almost to the point of being withdrawn. Being around unfamiliar people is extremely awkward, almost painful, for the girl. She is slow to trust, due in large part to having her trust broken multiple times by people she thought were friends. Coming to trust others enough to let them in is a long, slow process for Calla and she struggles with making new friends. Once she views someone as a friend, however, she is loyal to a fault. She would do just about anything for her friends and views several of them as family. She loves spending time with those she considers friends, whether it be a shopping spree at the mall or just hanging out in her room chatting.
Calla is empathetic, often taking long hours to listen to her friends' problems and help them come up with solutions. She is often viewed as being mature for her age, namely because of her patience when coming up with solutions problems posed to her. She has almost infinite patience when it comes to dealing with her friends' problems. Unfortunately, she also has a habit of taking on said problems as her own. So, while whatever friend she is helping may feel better, Calla typically ends up feeling worse, having taken the emotions upon herself.
Despite being extremely shy, Calla has quite a temper. She is a sensitive person and has a short fuse that makes it easy to set her off. Little things like someone saying something that strikes her the wrong way or someone tromping on her foot and not apologizing can lead to a fuming Calla. She may not show her anger outwardly, but she may fume inwardly for hours – sometimes days – on end. The object of her anger, however, is often left wondering exactly why they are getting the cold shoulder from the girl. More than one confrontation has resulted from Calla storming away from an argument, then ignoring the other party for days on end.
It is not only her temper than Calla has a hard time showing. Any emotion is viewed as private by her and she tends to keep her feelings to herself. Not the healthiest thing to do, true, but it's how she's dealt with things her whole life. She has a tendency to make herself ill from keeping her feelings in for too long. Her parents have tried to change her habits for years with no success, so Calla continues to stress herself out with hidden emotions.
A good sense of humor is pivotal in Calla's decision on whether or not to befriend someone. She loves a good laugh and loves to make others laugh. Her own sense of humor tends to be a bit dry, relying heavily on sarcasm. Though her wit isn't always the quickest, she often manages to amuse herself with her own comments regarding her current situation.
Calla has a stubborn streak a mile wide. She likes to do things her way and hates being told what to do. Not to say that she won't do as she's told told, just that she usually isn't too pleased doing it. She usually ends up giving in without much fuss as she hates confrontation. On occasion, though, she will refuse to do as she's told, posing whatever argument she can come up with to avoid having to follow through with the order.
;;_we owe it all to HISTORY
father's name;; Lukas Marsden (48)
mother's name;; Natalie Marsden (45)
siblings name;; Lance (21) and Paul (19)
significant other;; Single
children's name;; None
others;; Various aunts, uncles, and cousins – none that she is particularly close to, though
Calla was born in early summer in the high desert of Oregon to Natalie and Lukas Marsden. The couple's older children – Lance and Paul – were outwardly indifferent to their new sister, but were secretly rather pleased. Paul was happy to no longer be the youngest, since having a younger sibling would divert some of the negative attention Lance tended to dole out to his younger brother onto the new addition. Lance was thinking along similar lines, though he had to rethink some of his plots when he realized he had a younger sister instead of the brother he had been hoping for. It didn't take long at all for the two boys to be completely taken with the girl. Both grew to be quite protective of their younger sister, a fact she sometimes resented as she grew older.
When Calla started school, it quickly became apparent that her strength lay in academics. The girl excelled in her classes, picking up on information quickly. She looked forward to going to school, to learning new things. School came easily to her and she didn't have to spend much time on her studies to get the grades she wanted. This bought her the title of “teacher's pet” in many classes, a nickname that made her feel further ostracized from kids her age. Unfortunately, the title was one that followed her throughout school, cropping up again each year despite her best attempts to ditch it.
Calla's one true love throughout her life was ballet. She started lessons about the same time she started school. She continued taking lessons as she grew. Nearly every free moment not already devoted to school was spent at the dance studio perfecting technique or rehearsing for the next performance. Dance did not come as easily to Calla as school did and she had to spend much more time in practice than some of her fellow dancers. Though never the top dancer in her classes, she did well enough to keep up. Dance was always the one constant in her life, the one thing she could always count to be there.
Calla continued to excel in school as she grew, enjoying her classes more and more. She managed to find several good friends, both at school and in her dance classes. She tried out for several sports and even joined a couple of school clubs, but never really found the same niche she felt in dance. So her extracurriculars stayed the same through the years, leaving her to focus on her schoolwork and dance.
It was coming home from one of her frequent trips to the dance studio that her entire life changed. Her oldest brother Lance was driving and Calla rode in the passenger seat. A light dusting of snow blanketed the ground and more fell heavily from the sky. Lance had tried to find a set of chains for the car before leaving the house but had been unsuccessful. So the pair made their way slowly home, driving carefully along roads that were becoming more and more dangerous. They were nearly home when they crept around a sweeping curve and noticed a car in the wrong lane quickly approaching them. Forgetting about the snow on the ground, Lance slammed on the brakes. The car spun out, ending up upside down in a ditch along the side of the road.
She woke up two days later. Her memories of the event that had landed her in the hospital were foggy at first but slowly came back to her over the following days. The accident had caused damage to areas of her brain responsible for sight, leaving her blind, just one more thing for her to try and come to grips with. She struggled to accept her new lot in life, nearly suffering a complete breakdown on more than one occasion. During her time in the hospital, her powers continued to grow, causing yet another complication. Calla had a hard enough time keeping track of time – not being able to tell the difference between night and day or see the clock – but her visions made it even harder. She found herself losing more and more time, becoming more and more confused. Thankfully, her parents learned about Sententia Academy before her release from the hospital. Her parents gladly accepted the school's offer to help their daughter, sending Calla off to the school just days after her release from the hospital.
;;_totally out of CHARACTER
real name;; Amber
age;; 22
rp skill;; Intermediate to advanced
rping length;; Four plus years
read the power guideline;; Fruitcake
where did you find us;; Ad on another site
rp sample;;
Black rain boots spattered with a sprinkling of brightly colored polka dots tramped through the muck of what was supposed to be a trail. Murky water splashed skyward, shadowed closely by several clumps of mud. The whole murky mess fell back to the ground with an audible splat, only to have the cycle repeat with the next step. Jedda brushed an errant lock of auburn hair from her eyes as she tromped forward, each step taking far more effort than it should have. More than once already she had almost lost a boot to the swampy ground. The quarter-mile trail, usually an easy stroll, was feeling more and more like a marathon.
Twenty minutes later her goal finally crept into view. Gray waves roiled angrily under an equally gray sky. A layer of foam was gradually building along the thin strip of sand bordering the water. A cold gust of wind shot down the length of the beach, whipping grains of sand up in its fury. A wash of particles flew into Jedda's face, stinging the exposed skin there. The shifter immediately jumped back, scrubbing at her eyes to rid them of the newly-acquired grit. Blinking rapidly, she started forward once more, angling downwind toward a more protected area of beach.
Walking across the stones of the beach was much easier than her earlier trek the the bordering woods, though still treacherous. The stones lining the beach, slippery from the recent downpour, slid from under her feet on several occasions and she nearly fell more than once. It was with an audible sigh of relief that she sank onto the driftwood log that had been her goal all along. She shifted slightly on the damp log, pulling her jacket more evenly underneath her to prevent the water from seeping into her jeans. That done, she swung the backpack off of her shoulders, rummaging through it briefly before finding what she was looking for.
Sketch pad and pencil in hand she turned toward the rolling waves. She gazed out over the ocean for a long moment before flipping the sketch book open to a blank page. Then she started to draw. The lines came slowly at first, then started to gain speed, and a picture began to take shape. As she drew she couldn't help but be drawn into the past, memories surfacing as she transferred her subject from before her onto the paper.
”C'mon Jedda! Let's go!” a pigtailed blonde called from a short distance away. Five-year-old Jedda glanced skeptically at Kiki, her best friend. The girl had come to visit from California, traveling north with her parents during summer vacation. The family of three had moved to California in January. though it had been barely six months since the girls had last seen each other, to their five-year-old minds it had been forever – at least! - since their last play date.
Now here they were, once more on their way to the tide pools. The beach – at low tide especially – had always been a favorite spot of the two. It had not been surprising to the parents of the pair, then, that the two had verily demanded a trip to the beach mere moments after their reunion.
Shapes formed faster across the paper. The scratching of the pencil against the pad marked a feverish tempo, though the sound was all but drown out by the crashing waves.
”C'mon, slowpoke!” Kiki urged, waving her friend forward. Jedda cast a nervous glance over her shoulder, back toward her parents. Her father had always told her not to go near the water alone – a rule her mother had fostered as well. She was a bit nervous to follow her friend's lead, not wanting to break the rules, but if Kiki was there she wasn't really alone, was she? After one final moment of hesitation she started toward her friend. Once there, the two took off toward the nearest tide pool atop and outcropping of rock.
The strokes became angrier now, mirroring the quickly-declining weather.
They hadn't known the rocks were slippery. They hadn't known how dangerous the area could be when the salt water sprayed onto the rocks. They hadn't known the reasoning behind their parents' rules. It all happened so quickly. One minute they were happily skipping from one pool to the next, and the next...
Jedda was the first to discover the dangers of the rocks, their rough surface tearing into the palms of her hands as she fell. She was working on regaining her footing when she heard the thud of Kiki hitting the rocks as well. Gaze lifting to find her friend, Jedda was just in time to see the other girl tumble off the rocks into the ocean.
She screamed then. Loud and long and desperately. She screamed as she pushed herself off the ground and rushed toward the place where she had last seen her friend. She screamed louder when she got there and realized there was nothing she could do. She screamed until the adults arrived at her side, as they called for help, and beyond. She screamed until she could scream no more, until her throat was raw and sore, until she could hardly breathe. Only then did she fall silent.
The pencil ripped roughly through the paper, drawing Jedda back to the present. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks to be quickly cooled by the harsh wind. She reached up to swipe at them, angry with herself for getting so caught up in the past. She should have known better than to come here!
It took nearly two days for the coast guard to finally find Kiki's body. The official report was that the girl had drowned after being stunned by her fall to the rocks – a theory supported by a large laceration on the blonde's forehead. The fact that the girl had probably not been aware of her final moments was little comfort to those involved. Jedda spent the next six weeks in a cast, having fractured her forearm during her own fall. Much of that time was spent silent and teary-eyed.
The years had bettered her understanding of what had happened, even if they hadn't lessened her grief. It had taken years to fully realize what had happened that day, to fully comprehend that her friend wasn't coming back. A small part of her still blamed herself, though even that had begun to disappear with time. Her fear of the ocean, however, hadn't subsided in the least – the day's excursion had only reinforced that fact.
Hazel eyes drifted down to the sketch book in her lap. Several small tears marred the page, lending to the drawing's already angry appearance. Harsh marks outlined the area of rougher water over the rocks, now hidden under storm-risen tide, that were the cause of all her sorrow. The penciled-in clouds loomed ominously over the ocean, adding to the sense of anger and desperation the drawing already carried. Unable to bear looking at the drawing anymore, she lifted flipped the sketch book closed. Pulling the book tightly to her chest, she braved a glance out over the ocean one more time.
It was the downpour that started then that made her look away. At least, that's what she told herself. Even if it wasn't enough to move her from the log, it was enough to distract her from the scene before her. It was enough to distract her, and enough to hide the tears she no longer tried to restrain.
character adoption;; No
;;_chapter one: SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST
here are some questions we will be asking for this first chapter of the plot.
willing to get your character murdered;; No
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