Post by Torrentstar on Jan 4, 2008 14:56:58 GMT -5
Name: Katie
Nickname: Torrent, Frost
Age: 13
Literacy Level: Literate/Advanced
Activity Level: Very Active (On everyday)
Suggestions for the Site: None so far.
Roleplaying Sample:
Soft footfalls crunched the leaves underfoot, her leather boots treading heavily. The girl's long, wispy strawberry-blonde hair flicked around her face in the light breeze, a few obstinate tendrils hanging into her intense, almond-shaped hazel eyes. Fringed with thick, sandy lashes, the eyes took in everything around her slight form, keenly.
Delicately pointed ears pierced with minute emerald studs in the shape of stars glittered in the diffuse, moldy green light that filtered through the dense canopy of the forest.
The girl's footsteps echoed in the silent forest, causing her to wince with every snap of a twig. She expertly removed her wooden recurve bow from her shoulder while walking, her even pace never slowing.
The wood was high quality, and smooth as a harder version of satin, polished so as to give it a shining glow. Tapered fingers brushed the wood, and ran down the bow-string, feeling the tautness.
Arianna Denhaven, daughter of Elvish nobility, was on the move.
So, apparently, was the bow that she always carried with her. The quiver was slung lazily over one shoulder, and Arianna would occasionally have to run her fingers under the strap to ease the pressure and to keep the edge of the leather strap from cutting into her skin.
Clad in only a simple, loose white blouse with a few threads of green embroidered around the slit of the neckline, Arianna moved easily through the undergrowth. She wore black breeches tucked into knee-high sturdy black riding boots that were polished to a shine. "Wonder where I am," Arianna murmured to herself. She had emerged into a glade, on the top of a cliff, overlooking a small town. Arianna turned to head back into the forest, into the clutching underbrush that grabbed at her clothes with gnarled hands and into the filtered light.
Quickly, she headed down towards the village, breaking into a fluid run as she headed down the grassy slope, her pace quickening until she feared that she'd trip. Arianna's hair streamed behind her, the wind lifting it.
Gravity held her, and she was powerless to resist or try to defy it.
But the one thing that could free her happened: Arianna tripped. She pitched forwards and flew through the air before hitting the soft grass and rolling to the side, her full 118 pounds throwing her to the dirt.
At 17, Arianna was as big as she was going to get, that is, she'd remain at a diminutive 5'4 for her life. She rolled over onto her stomach and proceeded to push herself onto her knees and onto her feet. Arianna tried as best she could to brush the grass and mud off her pants, and continued her stroll to the village, prudently deciding to keep it at a walking pace.
Nickname: Torrent, Frost
Age: 13
Literacy Level: Literate/Advanced
Activity Level: Very Active (On everyday)
Suggestions for the Site: None so far.
Roleplaying Sample:
Soft footfalls crunched the leaves underfoot, her leather boots treading heavily. The girl's long, wispy strawberry-blonde hair flicked around her face in the light breeze, a few obstinate tendrils hanging into her intense, almond-shaped hazel eyes. Fringed with thick, sandy lashes, the eyes took in everything around her slight form, keenly.
Delicately pointed ears pierced with minute emerald studs in the shape of stars glittered in the diffuse, moldy green light that filtered through the dense canopy of the forest.
The girl's footsteps echoed in the silent forest, causing her to wince with every snap of a twig. She expertly removed her wooden recurve bow from her shoulder while walking, her even pace never slowing.
The wood was high quality, and smooth as a harder version of satin, polished so as to give it a shining glow. Tapered fingers brushed the wood, and ran down the bow-string, feeling the tautness.
Arianna Denhaven, daughter of Elvish nobility, was on the move.
So, apparently, was the bow that she always carried with her. The quiver was slung lazily over one shoulder, and Arianna would occasionally have to run her fingers under the strap to ease the pressure and to keep the edge of the leather strap from cutting into her skin.
Clad in only a simple, loose white blouse with a few threads of green embroidered around the slit of the neckline, Arianna moved easily through the undergrowth. She wore black breeches tucked into knee-high sturdy black riding boots that were polished to a shine. "Wonder where I am," Arianna murmured to herself. She had emerged into a glade, on the top of a cliff, overlooking a small town. Arianna turned to head back into the forest, into the clutching underbrush that grabbed at her clothes with gnarled hands and into the filtered light.
Quickly, she headed down towards the village, breaking into a fluid run as she headed down the grassy slope, her pace quickening until she feared that she'd trip. Arianna's hair streamed behind her, the wind lifting it.
Gravity held her, and she was powerless to resist or try to defy it.
But the one thing that could free her happened: Arianna tripped. She pitched forwards and flew through the air before hitting the soft grass and rolling to the side, her full 118 pounds throwing her to the dirt.
At 17, Arianna was as big as she was going to get, that is, she'd remain at a diminutive 5'4 for her life. She rolled over onto her stomach and proceeded to push herself onto her knees and onto her feet. Arianna tried as best she could to brush the grass and mud off her pants, and continued her stroll to the village, prudently deciding to keep it at a walking pace.