Post by Cailean Aridia de Sable on Jul 14, 2010 8:08:50 GMT
Name: Cailean Aridia de Sable.
Age: Twenty-two.
Sex: Female.
Class:Citizen.
Appearance: Play by: Emma Stone.
Set at an average height, and generally considered underweight, there’s very little of her body which could be noted about the young Cailean de Sable. Her legs didn’t go for days, and while she was well-proportioned, she generally thought of her body as decent, though women tended to be their own worst enemies when it came to any sort of physical aspect. Still, while her body was less than noteworthy, her face was anything but. With a mouth that was wide, and soft; meant for kissing, and simply touching, and eyes that were light, and almost cat-like in orientation, Cailean became something noteworthy.
With a pretty face, and a decent body Miss de Sable could be considered something akin to a diamond in the rough.
Character: Cailean was handed a boy’s name at birth, and single - handedly raised by her father from a young age. As such the girl quickly became young, and brash. Bold, in every sense of the word; having forgotten her place in the world, and behaving though everyone should accept and acknowledge for all she had to offer.
Miss de Sable can be found grinning like some fool more often than not, though that’s not to say that she doesn’t have her moments, when one finds a way under her skin, the girl seems quick to anger, though the days she resorts to physical violence seem to be few and far between. Though, that’s not to say that Cailean has never thrown a punch, or two.
Despite all these seeming flaws the girl is clever and quick-witted, using both within place of her oft-absent “Power” of clairvoyance.
There are very few whom Cailean would consider genuine friends, being in the business of deceit, the girl finds others hard to trust, and despite her out-going personality she keeps to herself on most days. The girl bothers very little with social interactions, as they seem naught but a waste of time. Despite this fact, Cailean does, in fact, like people, she simply wouldn’t trust her life to the majority of the public.
Still, Cailean seems to have a soft spot for children, despite the fact that she tends to give little miscreants
Strengths and Weaknesses:
[li]Clever.
[/li][li]Quick witted.
[/li][li]Seemingly trustworthy.
[/li][li]Attractive.
Weaknesses;
[/li][li]Short-tempered.
[/li][li]Stubborn.
[/li][li]Loud.
[/li][li]Beautiful Men\[/li][/ul]
Magic: Mild Clairvoyance. While the girl tells fortunes for money, by no means are her predictions anything too precise, nor over-powering. More oft than not her predictions are forced, and simple jabs in the dark, though every now and then she surprises herself with a strangely accurate prediction. She’s very proud of those few moments.
Cailean also enjoys exploiting any semblance of this talent to scare any vagrant, misbehaving children.
Weaponry Skills: Out of necessity (As she lives on the streets more often than not) Cailean carries both a dagger at her hip, and sharpened hairpins, though she’s not been trained to wield either. Still, she feels safer with both weapons at her side.
Character History: Born the daughter of a lowly stall keep, Cailean lost her mother within childbirth - something which wasn’t so uncommon at the time. The girl was both named, and raised by her father. And while she loved the man there was truly no replacing a mother’s influence.
Her father raised her as though a boy, and while, for most families, this may include horse riding, and the arts of combat, though her family had no money for such a thing. Instead, the girl was simply brought up to be bold, and brash, to stand up for what she believed in, and to not give those things up. Despite this not being the norm, Cailean took eagerly to this way of being, and acting, and seemed more than eager to fill the role of her father’s make-shift son. To keep him happy.
Still, as girls tend to do, she blossomed, as all do, and not even her father could disillusion himself with the idea that his daughter, was a young lad. She learned to be dainty, though not from any sort of surrogate mother, instead she’d learned from the courtesans within their bordellos. While not ideal, the women certainly exuded charm and were pleasant, and womanly.
If questioned, Miss de Sable wouldn’t be able to recall when she’d first stumbled upon that mild clairvoyance of hers, nor when she decided to exploit such a “Talent,” though truth be told, it all seemed natural within that frame of time, and soon enough that girl was following within her father’s footsteps, and opening up a stall of her own, coaxing in newcomers with the promise of their future and womanly wiles alike; a curl to her finger and a coy bat to her lashes.
Needless to say, such a profession barely makes ends-meat, though Cailean seems content.
Additional Information: Out of Character Note: I noticed 2 people are currently using Gemma Arterton for a model, one hasn’t logged on since January, and the other since early May. While Gemma would be my first choice of models, just let me know if you’d rather I took someone else to avoid conflict, as I realize some are “protective” (For lack of a better word) of the play-by’s they’ve chosen.
Either way, long story short! I’d like to use Gemma, but if I can’t, that’s fine. P:
Sample Roleplay:
Jonathan had taken time out of his day to waddle down to the Police Department. Luckily for him, his days were no longer packed; filled with office work, and little else. Things he could do from home. His firm thought they were cutting him some slack by keeping him cooped up at home, and in some ways they were. Getting from his own home to just about any place had become a bit of a problem for him, but, ah! What he would have given to have a reason to get out of the house. Oh, sure, he had physical therapy twice a week, but to be honest there was absolutely nothing enjoyable about those trips. Kelly kept him occupied, too, and, sure, he liked the girl, but she was young, and almost overwhelming. Still, her effort was appreciated beyond compare.
There was nothing like hanging out with a twenty-something girl to make him feel old.
There was absolutely no way he could keep up with her night after night. So, he had today to himself, to do with what he pleased. The better part of the day he’d spent mulling over what to do. What he had to do. There was work to be done, but not even that sounded appealing. Oh, don’t get him wrong, he was one of those lucky few who’d wound up doing what he loved. It was the simple fact that work already occupied most his waking hours, and despite being hobbled up on crutches he needed a change of pace.
So Jonathan had pulled on a pair of pants - a more than convenient slit had been cut along the inner seam, allowing for more than enough room to wriggle that more than awkward leg brace within. By no means is it a good look for Jonathan, though he’d have to make due. After all, it was better than the boxers he’d been wandering around his home in before! Society should thank him, truly.
Jonathan was out and about, with an almost silly sort of thought in mind. He had someone to thank; a police woman who’d been the first of many on the scene when Jonathan’s accident occurred, and had even gone as far as to check up on him in the hospital. What had her name been? Officer Lee? Levvit? Something. Perhaps he should have paid more attention, but to be fair he’d been pretty fuckin’ out of it at the time, in fact, he was probably lucky to have been alive at all.
He couldn’t just show up empty handed, could he? That would be ridiculous, and sort of pointless to boot. Jonathan couldn’t just offer up a warm thank you accompanied by a handshake, could he? No. This wasn’t a very well thought out plan, to say the least of things. For a short moment the young man stops in his tracks and hefts his weight toward his armpits, weighing heavily upon his crutches. His fingertips find the short crop of his hair to worry over for a short lived moment. What could he bring? It was a little too late for a fruit basket, not to mention the fact that he would probably have some difficulty carrying one.
What does a man get a policewoman that he knows nothing about? The answer came quick enough. After all, Jonathan wasn’t stupid. He’s had girlfriends in the past, not to mention women within his life which were naught but friends. They all may have been a pain in the ass, but they’d taught him that women loved flowers. Or at least they acted like they did.
And truth be told, that was good enough for Jonathan.
Soon enough Jonathan is pulling his phone from within his pocket, and running a quick search for any nearby flower shop. Perhaps it was best he hailed himself a cab, there was no way all this walking could be good for him. It wasn’t bad but it certainly didn’t feel fantastic. Aside that, his armpits were getting sore! So, it’s with destination in mind that Jonathan manages to hitch himself a cab. Boston was a large city, though getting about wasn’t nearly as difficult as managing about New York.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
“What would you get a woman who saved your life?” Jonathan finds himself asking. He’s speaking to no one in particular, and he doesn’t even bother to turn his eyes away from any of those seemingly hundreds of pre-made bouquets. His brows furrow and his lips firm in confusion. He finally turns his attention toward the sales clerk who seems to busying herself with simply doodling of a small yellow pad of sticky notes, “What do you think?” he questions of that little blonde girl who seems all quick to reply with a shrug to her near bare and tanned shoulders, “Roses?” she offers up.
It was more than obvious that Jonathan would be receiving no help from this girl. You truly get what you pay for with these minimum wage employees. Not that Jonathan so much minded. He’d been there at one point in his life, too, and put in her position he’s not sure that he would have replied any differently. Aside all that he’s not so sure he’d have taken her advice, even if it had been sincere. “Thanks,” Jonathan utters nonetheless, his voice flat without even a hint of gratitude.
Daisies, it was, then. It’s a good standby sort of flower. The kind a child may bring their mother with naught but a pleasant grin, and a hand-made paper cone to stuff the flowers in; daisies and dandelions. There was no romantic connotations that went with daisies like there was with roses or camellias. Jonathan leans forth to scoop up a simple enough bouquet of a dozen or so daisies of varying colors. You know, to spice things up. Was that even appropriate? It was best to not over analyze things.
So, with daisies under arm, and making things a slight more awkward - perhaps he should have asked for a bag - Jonathan catches yet another cab toward his original destination; the cop shop. This was awkward for him, to say the least of things. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d shown up at a woman’s workplace with a bouquet of flowers. Let alone because the woman in question has somehow managed to save his ability to walk. This was truly a unique situation, and one he doubted he’d ever be within again for the rest of his days. Fingers crossed, that was.
“Is there an Officer L…” his voice trails, tongue seeking the name he couldn’t quite recall, those dark brows of his furrow, and he motions to shift within his standing place before a beast of a man seated behind a desk before him. f**k him. He pauses a moment longer before a brief moment of clarity dawns upon him, “Levy, I think?” Mister Barras attempts with those brows of his coming to crease once more. Should he explain why he was there? No, it was embarrassing enough as is, there’s no need to make himself sound like some sort of pathetic and lonely sap. Even though he sort of was.
Though luck seemed to be on his side today. That or Mister Barras was simply too pathetic to be considered a threat, and that man behind the desk was not only remarkably helpful, but also seemingly glad to offer up whatever information he may need, though only after being hit with the slightly disinheriting information that the woman he sought was not in the office at the moment. And that meant more running around for him. He’s sure it’s good for him to be out of his apartment, but it sure was a pain in the ass!
It’s not like he had anything better to do, though. So with an address and a phone number stashed within his phone Jonathan was left to make a decision; should he bother her at home? Truth be told, before his accident, Jonathan hadn’t been easily embarrassed, so he’d managed to find the guts to stuff himself within a cab once more, and take the trip across town and toward the Boston Harbor. Jonathan kicks his crutches away from him - with his good leg, mind you and takes those moments to mull over what he was to say to this woman. His sort-of savior.
Though his time to think seemed almost impossibly short, and soon enough that Cab was tucking toward the curb, and the cabbie was announcing their arrival. It seemed that Jonathan would be winging this. He was reminded of the first time he’d bothered to ask out a girl; flustered, and embarrassed, though he’d been young then. Now, he had at least two decades on that little boy he once was, and he was still awkward as ever, though he wasn’t about to turn back, after all, he’d come suck a long way.
Jonathan leans toward his good leg, a hand lifting to brush the pad of his thumb upon this woman’s doorbell. His fingertip sinks upon the weather proof piece, no doubt eliciting some sort of borderline obnoxious tone within her home. Now all that was left was the wait, and Jonathan seems eager to busy himself with seeking out tarnished petals upon that colorful bouquet to pass the moments; A futile task to say the least, though one done out of nervousness.
[Optional] OOC Section:
Name: Marissa.
Location: Wisconsin (Central standard, ftw.)
How long have you been RPing for: Too long; 5 or so years.
Any other characters on the site?: Not at the moment! :3
