Post by Viviane Liza Brayick on Feb 11, 2011 15:26:41 GMT -8
BRAYICK, VIVIANE LIZA
DEMIGOD
11th Year at Camp
Age: 16
Daughter of Athena
DEMIGOD
11th Year at Camp
Age: 16
Daughter of Athena
Appearance:
Eye(s): Hazel (more green than brown)
Hair: Dark chocolate brown
Height: 5'4"
Build Type: Athletic, on the thin side (think "swimmer" body)
Brief Description: Viviane practically invented the phrase "Don't judge a book by it's cover". Her size may not be great, but don't let it fool you. She's rather pretty, in a stronger sense of the word. Not 'delicate' or 'femenine', really; just pretty. Her long, chocolate brown hair falls to the middle of her back in soft waves. More often than not she has it up, but no matter how she wears it, her bangs are always in her face. Her eyes are a hazel color technically, but they flirt with the "green" side more than anything. Sometimes it's dependant upon what she's wearing. She doesn't typically show much expression, but when she does it's startlingly adoreable; something she used to get crap for as a child. Most of the time she wears loose fitting shirts, skinny jeans, and boots (or her beloved Chuck's). When fighting, she wears a set of leather armor lined with gold accents.
Background:
Mortal Parent(s): Dahlia Brayick unknown
Other Family: None that she knows of
Pets: Jupiter; a black friesian horse with large, leathery wings like a bat. He has dark brown eyes, almost black in color, and a high temper with anyone other than Viviane. He's been with her since he was a foal, and they share a strong bond. Jupiter was Viviane's first real companion when she was brought here.
Brief History: Viviane has been here longer than she cares to remember. One of the heads of the Camp found her in an orphenage when she was around four and brought her here, seeing the potential inside her little hazel eyes. As the daughter of Athena, she was skilled with battle at a young age and trained in the arts of swordsmanship. She has been here ever since, meeting new people and honing her skills. She hopes to one day meet her mother, but doubts the day will ever come.
Personality:
Likes:
- sword fighting - skilled with her swords. one of the best at the camp.
- exercising - a healthy body is a happy body!
- swimming - one of her favorite forms of exercise.
- riding - she has been riding Jupiter since she was seven.
- meeting new faces - she's a tad standoffish, but don't let that get to you.
Dislikes:
- overly persistant people - she hates being badgered.
- oversleeping - who wants to waste their day?
- extremely hot weather - she hates the way the air feels.
- her mortal parents - for abandoning her.
- losing - not that it happens much, but no one really likes it.
Skills:
- weapon mastery - she has a nack for getting the hang of any weapon, especially dual's.
- riding - she's done so for a long time.
- listening - a good person to go to if you just need someone to hear you out.
- wisdom - she is wise beyond her years, and while some might not like it, she usually comes to the best decisions under pressure.
Weaknesses:
- sociability - awful at small talk and making friends.
- recalcitrant - goes against authority.
- insecurity - around all these other campers, she sometimes gets a little insecure. she may be a demigoddess, but she's still a teenage girl!
- frozen lakes - number one fear is being stuck beneath the ice. her chief nightmares.
- distrusting - it takes forever to get to her as a friend. she doesn't trust anyone until they earn it.
- rage - when something gets under her skin, there's hell to pay. she becomes overcome by an almost insatiable anger.
Passions:
- weapons training
- caring for Jupiter
Fears:
- drowning (see weaknesses)
- never being able to rise above her insecurities
Hobbies:
- smithing - not only can she use weapons and armor, she's learning to make them as well
- walks - she loves taking long walks alone. helps her think.
Fighting Specialty: Dual longswords (especially on horseback)
Describe the extent of your powers/abilities: Viviane has no real magical "powers" per se, she just has incredible strength. Like her mother, the warfare (among other things), she has a nack for battle and skill with weaponry. She has only lost once in her eleven years here, and it was to her teacher who has long since left this place.
Theme Song: "Waking the Demon" by Bullet for My Valentine
"...Waking The Demon,
Where'd you run to?
Walk in the shadows,
Watch the blood flow,
There's not much longer, so don't try and fight,
Your bodie's weakening, Walk to the light,
Those painful times so alone so ashamed,
I'm not coming back there's nothing to gain
Caution,
There's just no limits to the boundaries you push
I warned you but still you just f**k with my mind,
There's no escape from this rage that I feel,
Nothing is real..."
(Click here for full lyrics.)...
The Puppeteer:
Name/ Alias: Just call me Vi or Sammy :3
Age: 19
How long have you been role playing?: Oh jeez... Like.. 9-10 years?
How did you find us?: Ad
Role Playing Sample: (From my Vampire Knight site)
¢¼ The Day Class had let out for the day, and Chariotte had wasted no time in getting out of the horrid rendition of the sailor suit that she, and her fellow classmates, were forced to wear. As you might have guessed, she wasn't a fan. However, what she was a fan of, was getting all sexy and going out for a night on the town. Sure, she wasn't allowed to roam around, by herself, at night. But Chariotte wasn't ever one to follow rules. The staff, prefect's, even the headmaster himself allowed her to pretty much do her own thing, so long as she didn't disturb other students. So, here she was, walking out of campus at the most deserted time: the time when the Day Class ended, the Twilight Class was still in the lecture building, and the Night Class was on their way out of their humble ( huge-ass ) mansion of a dorm. She could hear the screams from the Night Class "fan girls" from here, at the edge of campus. How pathetic they were, locked in their little trance. It disgusted Chariotte to be in the same classes with those witless dolt's. Honestly, whatever they saw in those weirdo's, Chariotte couldn't seem to find. No matter... She had made it off the grounds and was walking down the road that would take her to the town.
¢¼ She had dressed up for her night out, knowing the towns people would be just as classy, dressed to the nines on their bar and pub-hopping adventures. In a black, lace corset, dark blue jeans, and red pumps, she was sure as hell a sight to behold. Her hair was long and straight, and she wore her favorite crowned skull ring and tainted silver bracelet. She strutted down the street, a hop in her step, as the distance between her and the school grew more and more. Green eyes glittered in the moonlight as she approached the so-called "wrong side" of town. It was the fastest way for her to get to the hustle and bustle of the night scene. Tall buildings dwarfed her on both sides as she made her way, quickly, down an alley. She wasn't frightened in the least, just excited to be around the throngs of passersby. She couldn't wait to lose herself in the crowds. As she emerged from one alley and into the old workers district, something made her stop. Outside Atrax Factory, three boys were crouched down. She realized that she knew one of them from her Civilization class, and she got a sassy little grin on her face as she walked over. "Well, well, well. It doesn't get any prettier with you staring at it like that, boys." They all jumped, hearing her voice, and she laughed. The one she knew, Samuel was his name, gave her a cross look. She returned his glare with a very unamused look. "I'm shaking in my heels..." she offered, her voice dull and unamused.
¢¼ The three boys stared at her, then looked at each other. They stood, Samuel in front. Three pairs of eyes, trained on her. "I'm sure you've heard the stories about this place, Chariotte," he began, the others snickering. How cute, they thought they had her. The look on her face didn't change from it's unamused stare as he continued. "Well, since you're so tough, why don't you take a look around? Go on, take a peek inside," he said, flourishing his hand at the entrance like it was a grand prize. What's behind door number 1? She put a hand on her hip, her face bemused. "What a lot! Fine, I'll play your stupid game, and I'll go in. Totally jake*!" Honestly, she had nothing to be afraid of. The baddest thing in there was herself. Walking past the boys with her typical self-assured air of confidence, she gave them a quick look over her shoulder that said something to the effect of 'pansies'. Then she disappeared into the black opening of the former bustling factory that was now a dilapidated, run-down shell of its former greatness.
¢¼ Inside, it wasn't anything special. She could look up and see straight to the ceiling in some places, tiny shafts of light coming in from the holes spaced intermittently where the rust had eaten away at the building's steel exterior. It was pitch black the farther in she went, but her eyes began to adjust so she could at least make out shapes. Her shoes echoed every time she took a step, her eyes and corset glittering even in the dark. She could feel the emptiness of it, could sense that there was no other living creatures besides the bats and mice that now made this haunting place their home. Something did, however, feel very... wrong. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there were some sounds that came from the far reaches of the factory that didn't seem right. To her left, metal creaked. She suddenly felt very threatened, and reached into her back pocket for her lighter that she kept for emergencies. It was an old habit that seemed to do her a lot of good in times like this. Flicking on the tiny flame of her Zippo**, Chariotte looked around, then to the floor. A piece of steel, sharp and pointed, shone from the light of her flame. She bent down, picked it up, and stood once again, looking around her. She felt something, something large, coming her way. A very inhuman growl came from her left, and she set her jaw and squared her body to face it. Like hell was she going to run. Chariotte wasn't a coward, by any means. She got herself ready to plunge the metal into whatever was coming at her. She had heard the stories about the demons of the old workers that still inhabited this factory. Perhaps she was going to meet one... Or could it be something else? She held out the piece of sharpened steel, putting out the light of her Zippo and pocketing it to free up her other hand. "Come out, come out, wherever you are..." she called, mockingly, into the inky blackness.
¢¼ She had dressed up for her night out, knowing the towns people would be just as classy, dressed to the nines on their bar and pub-hopping adventures. In a black, lace corset, dark blue jeans, and red pumps, she was sure as hell a sight to behold. Her hair was long and straight, and she wore her favorite crowned skull ring and tainted silver bracelet. She strutted down the street, a hop in her step, as the distance between her and the school grew more and more. Green eyes glittered in the moonlight as she approached the so-called "wrong side" of town. It was the fastest way for her to get to the hustle and bustle of the night scene. Tall buildings dwarfed her on both sides as she made her way, quickly, down an alley. She wasn't frightened in the least, just excited to be around the throngs of passersby. She couldn't wait to lose herself in the crowds. As she emerged from one alley and into the old workers district, something made her stop. Outside Atrax Factory, three boys were crouched down. She realized that she knew one of them from her Civilization class, and she got a sassy little grin on her face as she walked over. "Well, well, well. It doesn't get any prettier with you staring at it like that, boys." They all jumped, hearing her voice, and she laughed. The one she knew, Samuel was his name, gave her a cross look. She returned his glare with a very unamused look. "I'm shaking in my heels..." she offered, her voice dull and unamused.
¢¼ The three boys stared at her, then looked at each other. They stood, Samuel in front. Three pairs of eyes, trained on her. "I'm sure you've heard the stories about this place, Chariotte," he began, the others snickering. How cute, they thought they had her. The look on her face didn't change from it's unamused stare as he continued. "Well, since you're so tough, why don't you take a look around? Go on, take a peek inside," he said, flourishing his hand at the entrance like it was a grand prize. What's behind door number 1? She put a hand on her hip, her face bemused. "What a lot! Fine, I'll play your stupid game, and I'll go in. Totally jake*!" Honestly, she had nothing to be afraid of. The baddest thing in there was herself. Walking past the boys with her typical self-assured air of confidence, she gave them a quick look over her shoulder that said something to the effect of 'pansies'. Then she disappeared into the black opening of the former bustling factory that was now a dilapidated, run-down shell of its former greatness.
¢¼ Inside, it wasn't anything special. She could look up and see straight to the ceiling in some places, tiny shafts of light coming in from the holes spaced intermittently where the rust had eaten away at the building's steel exterior. It was pitch black the farther in she went, but her eyes began to adjust so she could at least make out shapes. Her shoes echoed every time she took a step, her eyes and corset glittering even in the dark. She could feel the emptiness of it, could sense that there was no other living creatures besides the bats and mice that now made this haunting place their home. Something did, however, feel very... wrong. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there were some sounds that came from the far reaches of the factory that didn't seem right. To her left, metal creaked. She suddenly felt very threatened, and reached into her back pocket for her lighter that she kept for emergencies. It was an old habit that seemed to do her a lot of good in times like this. Flicking on the tiny flame of her Zippo**, Chariotte looked around, then to the floor. A piece of steel, sharp and pointed, shone from the light of her flame. She bent down, picked it up, and stood once again, looking around her. She felt something, something large, coming her way. A very inhuman growl came from her left, and she set her jaw and squared her body to face it. Like hell was she going to run. Chariotte wasn't a coward, by any means. She got herself ready to plunge the metal into whatever was coming at her. She had heard the stories about the demons of the old workers that still inhabited this factory. Perhaps she was going to meet one... Or could it be something else? She held out the piece of sharpened steel, putting out the light of her Zippo and pocketing it to free up her other hand. "Come out, come out, wherever you are..." she called, mockingly, into the inky blackness.