| name . EMERISS
gender . FEMALE
age . TWENTY-ONE
defects . BLIND
appearance . Emeriss is shorter at 5’5. She has long black wavy hair, lavender (purple) eyes with almost pink flecks from the deadening of the cells in her eyes from the accident, full lips, and angular face. She is pale, skinny and willowy though quite strong even if she doesn’t look it. She has six tattoos. Vine-like swirls around her eyes to hide the scars. A dragon across her back with its tail that wraps around her right side to fall across her right hip. Its wings are spread across her back. She has spots that start right above her temples and runs the length of her body to the bottom of her feet. Also, a vine-like swirl that curls around her upper right arm. She has small scars directly under both her eyes that she hides with heavy make up and tattoos.
personality . Emeriss is a force to be reckoned with. She knows no shame and is blunt. She will speak her mind because she doesn’t have to see your face when she does. She is a complex person. She has learned to use her Telepathy in a different way. She uses it to see what others are processing that happen to be nearby so she can “see” without having the use of her own eyes. She had an accident when she was fourteen that she refuses to speak of. She does not like to be pitied for being blind. She is generally a sarcastic, good natured person with a bitter side on her bad days.
history . Emeriss was born to loving parents that took care of her until they both perished in an accident that took their lives and Emeriss’ sight when she was fourteen. This event in her life, she will not speak about. Rumors were that it was her fault. She grew up in an orphanage until she was 17, then she lived on the streets.
sample post . (Another character I play who is close to Emeriss)
Alright, so I've decided that life is like a birthday cake. You look at the birthday cake and just know that its going to be a total mouthgasm. No, you don't think about how you are going to feel after, so don't worry about it. But you just know, that birthday cake is going to be amazing. Well, at least till you get to the bright and colorful lit candles in the middle of it. Then that amazing cake, its not so good anymore and you are getting a stomach ache. You could say I am at that point. I got my birthday cake, I plowed through the first half of it in one sitting and now I got a stomach ache with guilt that it's going to settle neatly on my ass.
I am at the point of going the distance and finishing it or saying screw it and putting it back in the fridge. Right now I find myself in a less then exciting situation. It's not good for my health or freedom either. Thats me right there, the girl with the lavender and pink hair. Thanks, I know its badass. You don't have to mention it. Anyway, those two guys there. Those would be the two guards kicking my ass. Now, if you just glance at this scene, it looks like two mean boys beating up on a girl that isn't even a fourth of their size. If you look a bit closer, you can see I might deserve it. Lemming #1 there, the big guy whose theme song should be "if I only had a brain", I might've broke his nose. And Lemming #2, the skinny guy wailing on me the most, that guy was a nerd in another life and is looking for some revenge on someone he could beat up finally, I'm sure of it, well, I might've made sure he won't be having children anytime soon.
See, thinking back on it, I really got myself in this situation. I ate the cake. Well, I plowed through life. I was happy to get out of that shitty little orphanage and it's little nuns that eavesdropped on everything. Birds gotta eat, fish gotta swim, and I, Mackenzie Erin Brant, gotta live. Oh yeah, its nice to meet you. Mostly, everyone calls me Mac, by the way. It's easier then Mackenzie. Mackenzie isn't my given name, its just what the nuns called me. See, my parents disappeared. No see ya, no love ya. Not even a dear John letter. I got the short in of the stick. But all in all, not too bad. I got out of the orphanage when I was 17 years old... and I found something to do that I was good at... thiefing! It was easy. Snag this, snatch that. It was pretty simple. I targeted the richie richs of the town and made a decent living. I always said it was letting them pay for my education. Well, even the best get caught at some point and this was my point. I had a good run. Four very fun years dip, dodge and diving my way out of the stocks for anything from bread to a hefty change purse. This was where life turned sour and the cake was half gone and my stomach hurt. Check please and I will have some Pepto to go. k, thanx. Well, you remember Lemming One and lemming Two from before? They introduced me to this guy. This is trader John and here is where my story starts to pick up. If you hang around, its getting interesting.
They might as well of been cattle. Slaves poured in through a shoot to the right on to a small circle stage where they were auctioned off just like cattle. At least cattle smell better. It was dirty, dusty and the low life's, high end dealers and repersentives of the rich and powerful all lined up to see what new flesh could be bought for labor or repackaged at a higher price. Trade John was known for having the cheap filth and lowlife's no one else wanted. He sold mainly to low income families that wanted to keep up with the Jones' or to labor camps that didn't care where their flesh came from or why they were there. His slaves were meant for the end of a collar and cursed never to touch cutlery for it might of been the last their "masters" were seen of.
Mackenzie was starting to get nervous. The three women in front of her had been sold off to a vicious and burly looking repackager. Though, they hadn't been with John long. They hadn't yet been "sampled" by him and spoiled with abuse and lack of substance. Mac had been with John for a month now and there was hardly any luck in finding a buyer. Even a repackager wouldn't invest in her. John was beginning to find it off-putting. The abuse was becoming a daily event. Slave sold to low, Mac was going to get it. Slave got away, yup that was Mac's fault to. He just felt like hitting someone, Mac was who he looked for. If she had anything left in her, she would of scoffed. But to be honest, all she wanted was to be sent away. Screw it, just sell me. Find some back water, hill billy farmer. Just get me away from it.
It was her turn. John said she wasn't presenting herself. So, she tried. Slave... slave... think slave... Do you have any inspiration you could give me perhaps? Do you know an actress in a play I could study? That wit earned her the worst beating she had ever gotten. But it was worth it. It was also worth yelling that he needed his women chained, straved and bloody to handle them. He was lucky. They were all lucky she wore irons. They would lament the damn day they laid a hand on her. She stood on the stage rather lifeless, her eyes sunk in from lack of food downcast to the ground as she was told, her body bruised and exhausted but the fire wasn't all out. The crowd was once again silent. She was starting to take it personal. What's so wrong with me anyway? She wanted to ask if she smelled, but that was obvious. Two weeks on a ship with no bath... she was gonna be less then roses. When even the dregs of society don't want you, you know you have problems... She was instructed to stand in the line off to the side to be browsed upon. Maybe someone was just shy... Come on, people. She wanted out of here... how can she get out of here if you won't buy her?
No success... It was now another long day as the slaves were marched back to the boat. It seemed however, that Mac's luck was about to change. Rather for the better was in the eye of the beholder. She happened to be in the back of the line on this march. Those in front of her hardly able to lift their feet to walk through the sand towards the pier. She was focused on walking at the moment, her side screaming from a blow inflicted by Trader John. She was starting to wear out her welcome. As if it had been any sort of welcome. She felt the the wind shift before she felt the sting of knuckles. She tumbled down to the ground. Her hands planted in to the sand to catch herself. Her eyes blinked trying to restart a jarred body. When she finally could focus, she glanced up at him. Oh, John was getting revenge again... Then she felt it. Just at her fingertips. It was cool to the touch from being hidden in the sand. A bottle... She grinned as she found hope and with it a second wind.
She looked up at him with a new vigor, slipping slowly to her feet, pulling the bottle behind her. It was like a gift from someone above because it was always broken and sharp. She gave him a wicked grin and took a slow step towards him. There was a look in her eye that had him taking a step back. Oh yes, this is where my life changes. Here and now. The cake doesn't look so bad anymore. "You know John... I had a theory you could only handle a woman when she was chained, broken and bloody. I think now that I can stand up on my own, lets test it." With that, he lurched at her and he met the end of the bottle. She hadn't killed him. Though she figured no one would miss him. But he would wake up with a horrible headache and a few broken ribs... her foot may have found his sides a few times as she rolled his body behind some crates. Now she needed to get out of these bloody clothes and in to something a little less... slave...
She quickly stumbled around in the dark looking for an open crate with anything that felt like cloth. The dock was quiet and empty. She hadn't noticed anyone around in a few minutes before she darted across the road and to a ship. It looked empty and abandoned. Perhaps the crew was busy drinking in a pub and would be rather drunk when they returned. So, just maybe they wouldn't miss a dress and a pair of shoes?
other information . I'd like to use my coin on telepathy.
player name . Astrid
How you found out about us (only required if joining for first time) . Alora referred me <3 | |
