Post by akia on Sept 5, 2006 21:05:36 GMT
Name: Raeka
Age: 20
Allegiance:Neutral
Ship/port of call: Tortuga
Title/Job She is kida between tiles right now.
Personal History: Her dad, a wealthy man with a rice plantation by the name of Jonathan, had a daughter with one of his Hispanic slaves, and that's were Raeka came from. Even though she wasn’t born of the missus of the plantation, she grew up in the home, ignorant of her undesired heritage. As a child Raeka was very curios, and always wanted to be outside. Her foster mother, Laura, (her dad’s wife) died, leaving her half-brother bitter, and sullen. Raeka felt heavy-hearted for the woman’s death, but moved on, she had never became attached to Laura.
Her foster mother had never showed any anger to her, but Raeka could always sense that Laura didn’t really love her. Ever since Laura’s death, her father had become distant from her. He wouldn’t take walks with her, which they had previously enjoyed. This went on for years until her twentieth birthday, when her dad asked if she would like to be his guest at a dinner in the town. Lela accepted eagerly, and dressed for the occasion. Her father tricked her however, and shipped her off as a slave. Her father’s betrayal left her indignant, and bitter to men.
Appearance: Raeka has black, hair that is a cross between wavy and straight. Her black locks fall four inches above her waist. Her dark olive skin is heavenly smooth, and pretty much unmarred by scars and lacerations. Raeka has a naturally slim waist, with a defined chest and hips. No need for a corset with this girl. Not exactly the perfect hourglass shape though, more like and hourglass extreme. With an unusually large chest, and an unusually slim waist. She looks wild and untamed, her appearance is a good definition of her attitude. Long lashes frame deep eyes that are a dark chocolate brown, and seem endless. Usually a look of sarcastic humor gleams in her eyes. Delicate fingers, and smallish feet round off the woodland goddess look.
Picture: (I’m working on one)
Personality: Sarcastically humorous is her normal attitude. She is sharp witted, and sharp tongued. She makes it hard for any man to fall in love with her, THAT would be an accomplishment. Somewhat friendly to strangers, and can charm if she needs to. She is the opposite of depressed, usually happy, but can have mood swings. Little things can set her off, but she usually punishes you with a tong lashing. It would take something drastic to make her truly angry, but she is very good at acting enraged.
Loves to tease, but it is usually playful teasing, not meaning harm. She is loyal to friends, and quite protective. Would do anything to keep them from harm. Keeping her a friend is the easy part, making friends is more difficult however. Playful, or moody, she will still make a good friend. Prefers to have male friends over female friends, likes the challenge of keeping up with the boys.
Likes:
Water of any kind
Horses
Cats
Rice
Dislikes:
Self-righteous people
Drunken men
Abusers
Sample R.P: The ship that carried her rocked, and swayed. She was a mess, her fine dress was soiled, and ripped, and soaked with salt water. Blood spattered it also. Not her own, of course, but the man who tried, and some how succeeded. Raeka thought back on the past hours, her mind reeling. Flashes of her dad, many people dragging her into a dark damp place. She could see herself, fighting like an animal to get free. Yowling, snarling, scratching, biting, clawing, screaming, and pounding her fists into anything she could reach.
Yet, she was down here, in the cargo hold of a ship, chained to a wall. She was cold, her wet dress sticking to her. She pulled her tan legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and letting her forehead rest on her knees. Her mouth was gagged because her persistent, and chilling screams of rage were begging to scare the sailors. Sucking in a deep sigh through her nose, she raised her head; dark locks of wavy black hair fell away from her face.
With a jolt, the ship stopped, and she was thrown off balance, landing in a heap against some wooden boxes. Footsteps approached, and a young sailor peeked his head through the door. He glanced at her warily, and cautiously stepped toward her, keys in hand. Finally, he reached her, unlocking the chain bound around her wrist, and grabbing her arm. The boy led her out of the ship, across the gangplank, and onto the land. She stared with pure malice in her eyes as people walked by the slave trade center, she was about to be auctioned off.
Anything else? I don’t think so.
Age: 20
Allegiance:Neutral
Ship/port of call: Tortuga
Title/Job She is kida between tiles right now.
Personal History: Her dad, a wealthy man with a rice plantation by the name of Jonathan, had a daughter with one of his Hispanic slaves, and that's were Raeka came from. Even though she wasn’t born of the missus of the plantation, she grew up in the home, ignorant of her undesired heritage. As a child Raeka was very curios, and always wanted to be outside. Her foster mother, Laura, (her dad’s wife) died, leaving her half-brother bitter, and sullen. Raeka felt heavy-hearted for the woman’s death, but moved on, she had never became attached to Laura.
Her foster mother had never showed any anger to her, but Raeka could always sense that Laura didn’t really love her. Ever since Laura’s death, her father had become distant from her. He wouldn’t take walks with her, which they had previously enjoyed. This went on for years until her twentieth birthday, when her dad asked if she would like to be his guest at a dinner in the town. Lela accepted eagerly, and dressed for the occasion. Her father tricked her however, and shipped her off as a slave. Her father’s betrayal left her indignant, and bitter to men.
Appearance: Raeka has black, hair that is a cross between wavy and straight. Her black locks fall four inches above her waist. Her dark olive skin is heavenly smooth, and pretty much unmarred by scars and lacerations. Raeka has a naturally slim waist, with a defined chest and hips. No need for a corset with this girl. Not exactly the perfect hourglass shape though, more like and hourglass extreme. With an unusually large chest, and an unusually slim waist. She looks wild and untamed, her appearance is a good definition of her attitude. Long lashes frame deep eyes that are a dark chocolate brown, and seem endless. Usually a look of sarcastic humor gleams in her eyes. Delicate fingers, and smallish feet round off the woodland goddess look.
Picture: (I’m working on one)
Personality: Sarcastically humorous is her normal attitude. She is sharp witted, and sharp tongued. She makes it hard for any man to fall in love with her, THAT would be an accomplishment. Somewhat friendly to strangers, and can charm if she needs to. She is the opposite of depressed, usually happy, but can have mood swings. Little things can set her off, but she usually punishes you with a tong lashing. It would take something drastic to make her truly angry, but she is very good at acting enraged.
Loves to tease, but it is usually playful teasing, not meaning harm. She is loyal to friends, and quite protective. Would do anything to keep them from harm. Keeping her a friend is the easy part, making friends is more difficult however. Playful, or moody, she will still make a good friend. Prefers to have male friends over female friends, likes the challenge of keeping up with the boys.
Likes:
Water of any kind
Horses
Cats
Rice
Dislikes:
Self-righteous people
Drunken men
Abusers
Sample R.P: The ship that carried her rocked, and swayed. She was a mess, her fine dress was soiled, and ripped, and soaked with salt water. Blood spattered it also. Not her own, of course, but the man who tried, and some how succeeded. Raeka thought back on the past hours, her mind reeling. Flashes of her dad, many people dragging her into a dark damp place. She could see herself, fighting like an animal to get free. Yowling, snarling, scratching, biting, clawing, screaming, and pounding her fists into anything she could reach.
Yet, she was down here, in the cargo hold of a ship, chained to a wall. She was cold, her wet dress sticking to her. She pulled her tan legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and letting her forehead rest on her knees. Her mouth was gagged because her persistent, and chilling screams of rage were begging to scare the sailors. Sucking in a deep sigh through her nose, she raised her head; dark locks of wavy black hair fell away from her face.
With a jolt, the ship stopped, and she was thrown off balance, landing in a heap against some wooden boxes. Footsteps approached, and a young sailor peeked his head through the door. He glanced at her warily, and cautiously stepped toward her, keys in hand. Finally, he reached her, unlocking the chain bound around her wrist, and grabbing her arm. The boy led her out of the ship, across the gangplank, and onto the land. She stared with pure malice in her eyes as people walked by the slave trade center, she was about to be auctioned off.
Anything else? I don’t think so.
