Post by AMELIE DANIELS on Jul 29, 2009 16:58:18 GMT -6
AMELIE ISOLDE DANIELS
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“She’s a machine gun; Watch her as she goes by
It’s never been said or done; but she has machine gun eyes”
bad cop:
for the record - state your name and any aliases you go by.
“Amelie Isolde Daniels. My middle name is pronounced EEZ-OLD, in case you were wondering. Odd, eh? I know. Apparently I get a rather common American surname mixed in with a dash of French and German. But hey, I can’t argue with that. I still don’t know why my mother chose the first, but I think I can live with it. My middle name came from a good friend of hers, and I’ve made it this far. As for nicknames, I’ve been called Lee, Is, and Izzy, but I dislike either. Amy isn’t too shabby, but I’ve heard better ones. Got any ideas for me? Oh, and my aunt calls me Irene for some odd reason, bless her heart.”
state your age. [pauses] your real age, smartass.
“You’re funny. Why on earth would I lie about my age to you? I don’t feel threatened by you. I am twenty, and not a day younger. One year short of being legal, and too old for high school.”
state your occupation or what you consider it to be.
“I worked at a coffee-and-tea shop once, but that didn’t last long. You can look up my records to see why if you’re curious. I wasn’t a delinquent or anything. Now, I am in and out of a local music store. I’m that one salesperson who is probably overexcited about all things musical, and can help with just about anything the manager decides to certify me on. People today seem to be more interested in soundtracks for their hectic lives rather than equipment, but I’m more than happy to sell and recommend either. As for a supernatural job, I’m still struggling with what I can do. Intense emotions get the best of me, so I suppose I might still be a threat to the wrong people. It really depends on my mood, I guess”
good cop:
so what was it like growing up with a family like yours?
“It wasn’t too bad…at least not until my parents discovered what I could do. My parents, Annalisa Caroline Monroe and Matthew Lawrence Daniels, were high school sweethearts, but not in the traditional sense of the term. They never dated in school, but met years later. The two were then together for five years before the latter dropped the question. That was on a subway in Philadelphia, where countless strangers became witness to and even assisted with a failure of a proposal. Annalisa feared she was not ready to be wed, but after a spectacular, usurper of a proposal the next fall, she accepted sheepishly. A year after their backyard, rose and pair-of-doves wedding, I was born after several tries. They fretted that they would not conceive a child, so I was considered a blessing. Now, I’m not sure. I know they love me, but it had to have been hard.
“Mum and Dad were not dissuaded by their futile attempts before me, and proceeded to dote as only parents could. When I turned three, my grandparents on my father’s side died mysteriously. Now, I’m sure vampires had to have done it…perhaps accidentally, but they still did it. I feel no hatred or contempt towards them, mainly because I barely knew the people. That left Grandma Clara-Lynette and Grandpa Bartek. I stayed with my aunt Serena for weeks at a time, baking cookies and feeding the birds and horses she had at her ranch. She’s the one who aged quickly with all the stress my parents provided in their short visits, and she is also the one whom calls me Irene. She may have mentioned why a few times back then, but I can’t remember now. I spent Christmases with my remaining grandparents in my early years, for Mum and Dad had job-related excursions and such to attend in order to keep me ‘living in the standard I lived in.’ I was five, dammit. I HAD no standards at the time. Give me a stuffed animal and I was content. Maybe those were the triggers that awakened my mastery of the element water…which I am currently working on. At the age of six, I had discovered that I had skills normal people did not possess, which, apparently, made me stronger than regular humans. I’m not sure; I’ve seen some Samoans that might be able to take me down in a fight and tear me in half. Elementary school was not so difficult. Mum quit her first occupation (maybe they realized that they were completely neglecting their supposedly ‘blessing’ child) in favor of being a stay-at-home mom, which turned out to be a disaster. She nearly burnt down the house making pound cake. I still don’t know how she manages things like that. So Annalisa became a college professor at a local university, which took her away from us much less than her first job. If you were to ask me now what she did before teaching, I probably would have no idea. That was first grade and all. Dad was government worker material—not a spy, but up there somewhere. Certain aspects of his job were classified, but I knew enough to be able to tell that he would be out of town for extended periods of time.
“When they were both around, life was good. I suppose if both of them lost their jobs, we might have been closer, but that’s not something you pray for, is it? No. No, it’s not. After high school, I did a year of college at Columbia, but that was it. I had patience, but other, more pressing matters came to my attention. After all, in a world like this, you can’t expect to be able to sit around learning at a university that may not be there later. Someone mentioned that there was another Daniels who is an elemental a while back, but I don’t think I’m related to her. Oh, and in case you suspected this when I began my tale, there IS more to my history than what I’m telling you. You deserve a cookie. Or better coffee, at least.”
thank you for offering up that information. so share with me something personal about you.
“Personal? I don’t know anything about you besides the fact that you are a cop and your partner is rude. But if I must…I act tougher than I am, and I’ll admit it, but not easily. I’m more personable and kindhearted than any one person can tell. Soft spots like mine could get someone—namely myself and those I protect—killed, if you know what I mean. I do think I have some good qualities, but those, like other things, are in the eye of the beholder. I am resourceful to an extent…as in I could make an explosive out of household appliances and the like, or make a gift out of the same supplies. My creativity waxes and wanes depending on my mood, so you may find littered bits of projects I began but became distracted with around my condominium.
“Oh, distractions. Those are my weakness, but I’ve become clever with hiding them. As in, if I saw a walrus waddle (do they waddle?) into the music store, I would pretend like I hadn’t seen it, but I would suddenly be very disinterested in whatever I was laboring with at the time. Speaking of which, I’m an expert liar. It eats away at me hours later, but I can convince anyone, human or no, to believe whatever crackpot tale I’ve spun. Vampires may have their fancy mind techniques, but even with polygraphs and such, I can usually skim by undetected and completely undeterred. It’s a matter of confidence in ones lies and mannerisms, or so I’ve learned. The downfall that comes free with impressive lying is the impending doubt in nearly all things in the natural world. I am not EASILY angered, but when it happens, it is like a dormant volcano waking up suddenly and spewing tons of hot ash all over whomever prodded it enough to get it to explode.
“I wouldn’t say I had or have the greatest intellect out of my graduating class, although some of them were denser than neutrons (which, in case you didn’t know, are the densest materials on the planet…universe, whatever), but I am rather intelligent. I don’t rub it in people’s faces unless they deserve it, but it slips out sometimes. I can’t help it. And on that note, I have developed a considerably embarrassing habit of speaking the blunt truth, which is why I could never work in a department store. Seeing those people doll themselves up in dressing rooms is depressing. A more depressing thing is discussing my weaknesses. So I think I’ll leave you with only a few: I have a soft spot for injured animals and people, regardless of race; cookies and other well-made baked goods can usually make me forgive someone quite easily—it’s quite sad, really—and I tend to shrivel up on the inside when people mention my past. I was the girl who was picked on throughout her life, both in and out of school, and my parents were as supportive as they could be in our situation.”
bad cop:
so what fancy things can you do? be specific, punk.
“I was six when I conducted my spectacular, private water circus. There were no animals—just water. I know it sounds crazy, but we had moved away from all of my friends and I was terribly lonely. That’s one of my problems…at least, as a child it was. So I was sitting by the lake, staring at the expanse of murky water, horribly pissed at the world, and decided I would make my own friends. I don’t think I realized what I was doing, but suddenly the water was dancing everywhere. No one saw me, but it was and still is one of the most beautiful memories I have. As a six-year-old, I had some damn good insight to know that telling anyone what I had done was a bad idea, so I kept it to myself. When I turned sixteen, things got rough. There was added stress at home, and this one kid who would NOT leave my little sister alone. I think I could have drowned him, standing there in the middle of the road, harassing her, but I didn’t. I almost did, but the look on her face was enough to stop me. Mum and Dad were alright about it, after a few days of insanity and outright denial. I think I’ve developed more of a handle on the elemental powers, but then again, I’ve slipped up over the years. It could happen again. With the right amount of control, I can manipulate various forms that water takes in the natural world. Things like making beads of water float out of a glass are simpler than, say, stopping a tidal wave. I wouldn’t know how much strength such a feat would require because I’ve never, you know, tried to STOP a tidal wave before. They don’t have those here…at least, not that I know of. And if I concentrate hard enough and have enough energy in me, I suppose I could control the levels of water that make up the human body. But again, I’ve never had the patience, and that would be physically and mentally draining.”
i bet you think you’re the best, huh? better than everyone else.
“Absolutely not! Do YOU think you’re better than everyone else? I know for a fact that I am not perfect, and I don’t strive to be; I’ll even admit that there are countless people in the world that are much better than I am. So no. I have no problems with the other races unless they choose to make me a problem. Then everything is up in the air. It’s all up to them whether we can be friends or something much worse. I try to like everyone though. It’s grueling.”
good cop:
so what are your likes and dislikes?
“I have always had a thing for sunrises and sunsets. I’m sure you hear that a lot, but the colors and the brilliance of their mixture gets me every time. Each one is different and ultimately gorgeous in its own way…even in the murkiest of nights. Candles, unless scented with some otherworldly stench, are really quite nice. Music has always been a passion of mine, an outlet of all the stress and angst I would have otherwise bottled up as a teenager..even younger. I absolutely love hearing people laugh, especially when it is due to something I have said or done, and cannot turn down good food. With my love of laughter comes an intense ardor for decent jokes. I like company and privacy equally, so it would not be unusual to see me sitting in a bookstore alone or at a party with a group of friends and acquaintances. I used to be an avid reader; now I read if I have free time and nothing else to do. Painting, although I am not quite so great at it, is a fun pastime, as are photography and sculpting. I’m best at the latter of the two. Making something spectacular for others to gaze upon out of a piece of clay or scraps of metal is a skill I am not sure I would trade. I thoroughly enjoy risky sports, regardless of my skill level in each, like wake-boarding (no, I don’t cheat and twist the water unless I’m about to drown), sky-diving, and building-jumping. Each is a breathtaking experience, and an adrenaline rush—which may lead to serious health risks in my future—and worth every try. Even if I wipe out.
“As for my dislikes, there are few I would share and numerous ones I would rather keep to myself. Although at times I am myself a huge hypocrite, I usually would rather not associate with the type. Certain types of vegetables, and the thought of eating maggots or spiders as delicacies nauseate me. People with overly fake, overly kind dispositions disgust me. If you are going to be rude, do so to my face. I’d rather not be stabbed in the back, thank you very much. Lying to make people feel better, unless essential to, say, keep them sane, is heinous. We don’t need than in the world. Really now. Specific types of insects and arachnids terrify me for reasons I have yet to discover. I mean, they ARE a lot smaller than me…maybe it’s in the way they move [shivers]. I think that’s about it. I may seem ludicrously complicated, but once you delve in enough, you’ll see that I’m not.”
I’m wondering – do you have any distinguishing features?
“I’ll tell you what they are, but if you ask to see them…well, I’ll have to deny you that privilege. I have rights, you know. On my left hip, there is a small, crescent shaped scar. That one came from the time I was…hmm…I was trying to see how high I could heat the water at home and lost control of the temperature and the medium and splashed quite a bit on myself. It burned, but under that amount of duress, I was able to control the liquid closest to what would become the scar and cool it off to where the pain was less than unbearable. Other than that, I have been unblemished since puberty decided it was through with me. I used to wear snake bites—two lip rings, you know—but they became more of annoyances than attractive accessories, so I dumped them soon thereafter. The piercings have since sealed up, so I look as innocent as some imbeciles think I am. Well…I am innocent, to a point. I do have a nose ring that varies from noticeable to not. Years of random bouts of exercise, usually due to threats, like a dog chasing me or my parents deciding I needed to participate in sports, has toned my body down to a slim build, if I do say so myself. I am not pencil thin, like so many crazed teenage girls wish to be, but I am lean. I have dark hair, unless dyed otherwise, and eyes that vary from blue to green depending on what hues I am wearing. Speaking of which, I will dress up when necessary, but prefer comfortable clothing that does not make me look as if I live off the streets. And I don’t. Really. Other than that, I have no other features that would distinguish me from any other twenty-year-old in this part of the world.”
so, are you seeing anyone special? or have anyone in mind?
“[Laughs] No, I’m single, if that’s what you’re asking. That is what you’re asking, right? Okay. I lean hard towards the boys, but I must admit some of them think I’m a tad mental—in the best way possible. I had a few boyfriends in my earlier years, only one of which was worth keeping around longer than a few months. He was sweet, [pauses], but I don’t think he took it well when I started heating water on my own. And if that didn’t show his true colors, the fact that he screamed like a little girl—no lie—when I controlled the waves and such in the pond beyond his house did the job. Sometimes I wish things could have been different between us, but I think things happen for the best most of the time. Right now, I’m holding out for something amidst the chaos and lies. Maybe I’ll get lucky and find it before someone kills him.”
are you sure you don’t want some coffee, AMELIE?
“No, I think I’m good. You people are odd anyways, so how would I know if you slipped something in the mug before I got it, eh? I wouldn’t. [Smiles] And your partner is a bit sketchy.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
NAME/ALIAS: Toasty (it’s a joke)
AGE: 15
RP EXPERIENCE: several years, on and off
ANY OTHER CHARACTERS?: nope. Not yet, at least.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
(As Pandora somewhere else)
The weekend.
Maybe this was not supposed to be the best weekend of the year, nor was it her weekend, but this year was going to be different. It would be as close to hers as possible. At least, that was what Pandora continually repeated to herself—so often, in fact, that the words had become like a mantra of sorts. Something of that nature, at least, was able to comfort her during the free hours of the day. She was indeed quite fortunate to have been purchased by a family whose interests did mirror those of their slaves just the slightest bit. In other words, there were a few moments of the day not overrun with intensive labor and trivial, meaningless tasks designed to make the family’s day that much easier. This was one of those dismissal times, and today, Pandora’s legs felt the need to stretch a bit, so the Gateway Park seemed like a reasonable, if feasible, destination to do such a thing.
The nineteen-year-old yanked a brush through her rather unruly, chocolate-tinted hair and swept it back behind a thin beanie before changing into clothes that better fit her frame. The shorts and tank hung rather loosely over her physique, accentuating nothing so as to avoid attracting unnecessary attention from potential threats. Leaving not so much as a wayward glance behind, she set off at a tolerable pace for the park she had spent so many years wasting away in. Running let off pent up steam, although scouring floors, pots, and pans, and carrying ridiculously heavy objects around the manor used up enough energy. The tedious workload was not unbearable, but it ventured dangerously close. Close enough to draw out complaints and such from her lips. So yes, running was an escape, a release, as were music and art. Only the youngest of the master’s sons had happened across Pandora Lisle as she had been working on the latter; he had been so impressed that he inexorably smuggled artist supplies into her slave quarters. She had been more than grateful for sketchpads and materials in far better quality than her ragged, well-used and beloved belongings. They were some of few possessions she had managed to salvage and carry with her after being procured by the family she now labored for. And as for running, she had recently acquired a much better pair of running shoes as a reward for some task she had completed early. What is might have been, she would never recall. Nonetheless, she was appreciative of the gesture.
This morning, she had woken just before the sunrise and managed to rid the kitchen of the impossible filth that had been left after a soiree the night before. Therefore, today was a needed day off...a private excursion of sorts. The destination, as mentioned before in her mental ramblings, the park popular with both humans and parasites alike. Shards of sunlight filtered through the scattered trees, casting shadows of varying lengths along the paved pathway. The sound of steady footfalls echoed in Pandora’s ears, coupled with the regular, telltale heartbeat pounding in her chest; everything else fell away for the moment. Just as she began to allow her mind to slip into a temporary blankness, she heard the sound of similar footsteps directly in front of her. The first set belonged to a human—or a vampire—something with two legs and shoes. The second had the distinct resonance of a four-legged animal, a dog, perhaps. Pandora shortened her stride and pulled up short, settling into a rhythmic jog, cupping a hand above her eyes to shield the progressively brightening sun.
“Hello?” called what appeared to be a young male. He had turned swiftly, muscles tensed in alarm, braced for any sort of threat. Bounding several feet to his side, most likely chasing after some sort of play toy in a remotely oblivious, contented manner, was a gorgeous border collie with brilliant hues swiped across his pelt. He appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself, just as Pandora had just minutes before. She felt the sudden desire to pet the dog, but knew that it might be out of place, depending on the social standing of the boy.
“Hello,” she responded in a crystalline voice, prepared for an altercation or a civil conversation. Pandora let her hands fall to her sides, chest rising and falling gently. Although she was certain that she was not breaking any rules by being here, it was essential that she discover where he stood. “Is that your dog? He’s beautiful.”
