Post by Kaela Sumizome on Nov 20, 2011 12:08:57 GMT -5
THE CURSED SHALL RISE AGAIN
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xLoneliness is about the scariest thing out there.
Let the Stars Read your Future
Name: Kaela Sumizome
Age: Eighteen
Made-up or Canon: Made Up
History:
Kaela was born the youngest after her elder sister Nozomi, who was born youngest after their eldest sister Kuru. All three were born to a Japanese father and Japanese-American mother, both loving and caring people that had tried to raise all three of their daughters to the best of their ability between working two different jobs to support them. In general though, their little family was more than happy how it was, at least for a time. Around the time of Kaela's twelfth birthday, both parents were caught in a car accident out in the rain, both killed instantly. Kuru, who was eighteen, took up responsibility for her two younger siblings, and gave up her chance for college to help keep the house financially, working at most three or four jobs when she could. Nozomi, at fifteen, was able to take up an extra part time job while she was in school, and Kaela did what she could around the house to lessen the load on both of them; clean, cook, those sorts of things so her siblings could come home to a nice house after working for so long.
The death of her parents did take somewhat of a toll on her; she didn't feel the need to go play with her friends as much. Her bubbly, outgoing personality for a time was replaced with one more somber and knowing; her parents were dead, they weren't coming back, and all three of them would be forced to grow up faster because of it. There was no time for playing or games ... at least not until they were stable.
It wasn't until she was sixteen years old that Kuru managed to get herself a somewhat permanent job designing covers for books; she was always talented artistically, and although it wasn't a steady job, it paid better than the others normally had. Nozomi had saved up enough money to get to go to college - the first out of their family - and Kuru would only have to send her a little money every now and then for books; everything else, Nozomi would managed to pay for herself. With the middle sister out of the house, both eldest and youngest could now work easier to support their home, where inbetween her schooling, Kaela would take up jobs working to clean homes or babysit or even clean for business owners. She was always eager to work; harder work meant a bigger paycheck at the end of the day, and they could always use every penny they could get.
It was only in this year, her senior year of high school, that she managed to snag a position as maid for a rather prestigious and old family from the area. She isn't anything special amongst the other maids in the Sohma family's main home; there are a couple others that are only a year or so older than her, even though the majority of them are women in their mid thirties to older; it pays well, and she feels surprisingly welcome amongst the younger girls; they've decided that amongst them she seems to be the best at making tea, some have even come to think of her as the little sister they never had. Even amongst these people, she is part of the background of many, but it's always nicer to not be noticed.
You Bare a Curse, that you cannot escape
Likes: Writing, English class, cooking, cleaning, sleeping late into the morning when she can, fruits and other sweet things, rice balls, kimonos and long dresses.
Dislikes: When others are angry or upset, especially when she is unable to console them, having to miss school work when she works so late, being late to class, people that have no place to complain, lazy people, asparagus
Have any special skills: Cooking, tea making, cleaning, a deep sense of empathy for other people
Year in school: High school; final year
Here is where the Path must end
Sample RP:
The day had gone by as any other had for the past few weeks; despite being ... well discovered by a choice few people, those being another half elf, a Medusa and a strange human ... surprisingly, her life had been going by rather quietly; obviously no one had told on her, to be frank in thought. People would enter and buy books, sell books, she'd even get into cute little discussions with the younger ones over their favorite Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings characters. It was refreshing to see such an interest in fantasy, even if it was somewhat inaccurate fantasy; entertainment was entertainment after all.
And yet, for this day in particular, she couldn't help but feel like something was ... off. As though amidst all the indifference or excitement there was a small twinge of ... anger ... not quite malice, no ... too ... well something about it wasn't quite right, that was for certain. However, all day she was not approached or confronted in any sort of manner, so for then, she brushed it off as though it were nothing.
And then the day would end, the last few customers would shuffle out, ready for a night of peace and relaxation, and she would close the door and lock it, only tonight forgetting to do the windows as well; maybe she'd grown soft, or too settled to realize that even in a place as uninteresting as New Jersey that anything could happen. Or perhaps she was just tired and it made her forgetful; either way, she had only momentarily made her way up the stairs, allowing her wavy, long hair to fall from it's hairclip, shaking it around with a small noise of contentment. She ran her thin fingers through the yellow-white strands and sighed, half opening her eyes to glance about her small apartment as she leaned against the opened door.
And then she heard it.
Very faint, just from down the stairs in the shop, some sort of ... scratching noise. She tensed, green eyes snapping to attention down the stairs; she didn't imagine it ... and she could feel that same ... sensation she had earlier that day. That ... subtle anger. Someone was definitely downstairs... it was faint, as she was too far away to feel it properly, but there was most certainly a presence. A burglar? No ... probably. She couldn't read it properly enough; she reached for what was nearest her, which was unfortunately just an umbrella. She looked at the item in question and huffed, shaking her head before slinking her way down the stairs.
She was careful to skip the stairs that creaked, landing silently at the bottom step and gently pushing the curtain aside that separated her home and her shop; the umbrella was kept close to her chest, biting hard on her lower lip as she looked around, sneaking through the corridors of books, closer to where she felt this person ... they were in the front. She would not hesitate.
Without sound or warning, she leapt from the maze of bookshelves, umbrella blazoned protectively in front of her, eyes wide and body tense with expectation.
Seeing this person properly ... or rather ... not human properly ... only caused her to freeze further. A mixture of fear and wonderment on her face as she examined him, the pale white skin and hair, tipped with gold and those ... eyes. She found herself stuck in place, caught by his stare, as though he were ... expecting her?
She did not falter, however. Her umbrella stayed where it was, even though she was very, very certain he would be able to disarm her quite easily, given the armor and such ... still, she could at least use it as a distraction.
No words were spoken; if he wanted her to speak, she was sure he would address her first.
Read more: thehellboyrpg.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=ica&action=display&thread=1078#ixzz1eGZi29Vj
And yet, for this day in particular, she couldn't help but feel like something was ... off. As though amidst all the indifference or excitement there was a small twinge of ... anger ... not quite malice, no ... too ... well something about it wasn't quite right, that was for certain. However, all day she was not approached or confronted in any sort of manner, so for then, she brushed it off as though it were nothing.
And then the day would end, the last few customers would shuffle out, ready for a night of peace and relaxation, and she would close the door and lock it, only tonight forgetting to do the windows as well; maybe she'd grown soft, or too settled to realize that even in a place as uninteresting as New Jersey that anything could happen. Or perhaps she was just tired and it made her forgetful; either way, she had only momentarily made her way up the stairs, allowing her wavy, long hair to fall from it's hairclip, shaking it around with a small noise of contentment. She ran her thin fingers through the yellow-white strands and sighed, half opening her eyes to glance about her small apartment as she leaned against the opened door.
And then she heard it.
Very faint, just from down the stairs in the shop, some sort of ... scratching noise. She tensed, green eyes snapping to attention down the stairs; she didn't imagine it ... and she could feel that same ... sensation she had earlier that day. That ... subtle anger. Someone was definitely downstairs... it was faint, as she was too far away to feel it properly, but there was most certainly a presence. A burglar? No ... probably. She couldn't read it properly enough; she reached for what was nearest her, which was unfortunately just an umbrella. She looked at the item in question and huffed, shaking her head before slinking her way down the stairs.
She was careful to skip the stairs that creaked, landing silently at the bottom step and gently pushing the curtain aside that separated her home and her shop; the umbrella was kept close to her chest, biting hard on her lower lip as she looked around, sneaking through the corridors of books, closer to where she felt this person ... they were in the front. She would not hesitate.
Without sound or warning, she leapt from the maze of bookshelves, umbrella blazoned protectively in front of her, eyes wide and body tense with expectation.
Seeing this person properly ... or rather ... not human properly ... only caused her to freeze further. A mixture of fear and wonderment on her face as she examined him, the pale white skin and hair, tipped with gold and those ... eyes. She found herself stuck in place, caught by his stare, as though he were ... expecting her?
She did not falter, however. Her umbrella stayed where it was, even though she was very, very certain he would be able to disarm her quite easily, given the armor and such ... still, she could at least use it as a distraction.
No words were spoken; if he wanted her to speak, she was sure he would address her first.
Read more: thehellboyrpg.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=ica&action=display&thread=1078#ixzz1eGZi29Vj
Custom Title: Just like the white winged dove
RP Experience: Six years about
How did you find us: Caution 2.0 advert
Password: Rice ball[/center]
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