Post by Lady Diabla on Apr 28, 2006 11:08:19 GMT 12
[Actual/Official Name >> Olette Marie Davis
[Calls Self>> Naminé [Nah-Meh-Nay] [Means ocean wave in Japanese… just some background]
[Alias>> Nymph
[Age >> 16
[Gender >> Female
[Tribe >> Unaligned
[Rank >> Precognitive Ability/ Artist /Commoner
[Nationality >> Briton
[Politics >> I’m not just some stupid medium. I can’t show the future at will nor can I lay our the present or look back into your past. I can’t help the drawings… they just… come to me. I will see the picture in my mind and when I draw it I have no idea what it will be. As for morals… screw them.
[Romantic orientation >> Straight.
[Appearance >>// If there was such things as fallen angels Naminé would be one of them. She has innocent and striking features that she never bothers with or cares about. She has large saphire blue eyes and long eyelashes that fan out delicatley. Her hair is waist length and she has bangs that fall into her eyes and the color is a beautiful platinum blonde so light it almost looks white. She has a slim frame and a slightly curvy figure, and is about 5’8. She isint visably muscled but she is swift and because of that she has become one of the top spys for the tribe. She always caries around her sketchpad and a pencil or charchoal with her so she can sketch or
[Attitude >> She is very fragile, sometimes timid and hard to get to talk much. She says few words but is very expressionate. She also has a tendency to develop large headaches when someone she doesn’t know is around to much or if she is afraid of something. She is very mysterious and shy about her secret ability the tribes abuse to see what will happen.
[Notable History >>
Olette had been an orphan all her life and could not remember a time when she had a family. She was bubbly intelligent young child who was outgoing as you please. But she had a secret. She had the ability to draw out the future or see the past from her sketches in her large sketch pad she always has and had under the crook of her arm. She was permitted to never speak about it to the other children and was considered a freak when it got out. A child named Johnny Midgett had gotten into her sketch pad and had seen a sketch of him unconscious. Five minutes later still holding the paper and confused he slipped on the stairs and cracked his head open. Olette was forever shunned by the children and stayed near the nuns at the orphanage for companionship.
5/6/96
Dear Diary,
Mother Margret has found me parents!! I’m so overjoyed! I got so excited I accidently hacked into the CIA’s files again. Oops. But this time I didn’t put any pictures of the president flipping them off.
I bet they are a nice, well educated couple! In fact Father probably has an important job in politics or in banking. But he still has time to read me a story every night in bed. And my mother will be a computer graphic designer and we will stay home and bake cookies, and together we will surf the net! And I will attend a private school for prodigys! And there will be a cute little puppy with a black spot over his eye who will sleep with me in my nice big pink bed, and we will play on the weekends in the large front yard and then on the playground!
Oh! And Sister Grace found out about us diary. But she was very good about it and said she would send all my files to my new familys computer.
Oh my! Here they come to take me home!
5/7/96
Dear Diary,
There are no pink beds or playgrounds. Nor a private school for child prodigys. My father is not a important bussiness man but a used car dealer and my mother is not a graphics designer but a slob.
There are no cookies, nor bedtime storys.The dog has been replaced by a grumpy old cat who hisses at me and would rather hack hairballs than sleep with me at night. I’m glad for that at least, for he smells like rotten fish.
Oh I want to be back home at the orphanage! With the nuns and the children who are not very smart but are still nice… sometimes.
My father’s name is Ernest J. Morris and is thinning his hair by the hour. While my mother is loud and shrill and looks like she is sucking on a lemon all the time. She also wont let me call her “Mom” but makes me call her Gloris, to feel younger I suppose. My dad has knocked on the door. I hope he dosent want to play like he wanted to earlier. I don’t know what he meant but the way he looks at me is frightening.
Over the years Olette suffered much cruelty, as she was used as a servant to the family and was raped by her father frequently. The spark in her eyes became quenched and harder to see and looked more like a dying ember than the eternal flame it had once been. At 12 she decided she would run away… forever. She packed her sketchpad, charcoal and all other supplies she could fit into her small bag and ran from home and sat about Big Bens top and slipped on a “dropping from above” and went unconscious. Olette woke up not knowing who she was, or where she was. She wandered about aimlessly confused and traveled about England withought reason nor cause. She was gazing at the horizon on a beach one evening when a Japanese couple began talking to her in their language repeatedly saying Namine. Olette figured this /must/ have been her name and dubbed herself as such and with a unclear knowledge of where she was going she set out lightheartedly for a new land to which she could make her name known. Her hopeful, hysterical, bubbly side clashing with her new faded, confused and crazed side as she stared ahead into the sunset as the plane to the Americas began… And so started her new life. Being 16 now she figured maybe she wouldn’t make the same mistake of showing her secret talent. But it slipped out… how the strange new girl could draw the future, and lay out your past and present. She was falsely warmed into the tribes. But she put on a rather forced smile and shook her head saying she needed to make her own name here in New Pork. So she stays as unaligned wandering about with her sketchbook, where she keeps to herself and sketches the future out wishing it would tell her more of her future and less of her awful and forgotten past.
[Reputation >> The freak who has the strange mutation.
[Calls Self>> Naminé [Nah-Meh-Nay] [Means ocean wave in Japanese… just some background]
[Alias>> Nymph
[Age >> 16
[Gender >> Female
[Tribe >> Unaligned
[Rank >> Precognitive Ability/ Artist /Commoner
[Nationality >> Briton
[Politics >> I’m not just some stupid medium. I can’t show the future at will nor can I lay our the present or look back into your past. I can’t help the drawings… they just… come to me. I will see the picture in my mind and when I draw it I have no idea what it will be. As for morals… screw them.
[Romantic orientation >> Straight.
[Appearance >>// If there was such things as fallen angels Naminé would be one of them. She has innocent and striking features that she never bothers with or cares about. She has large saphire blue eyes and long eyelashes that fan out delicatley. Her hair is waist length and she has bangs that fall into her eyes and the color is a beautiful platinum blonde so light it almost looks white. She has a slim frame and a slightly curvy figure, and is about 5’8. She isint visably muscled but she is swift and because of that she has become one of the top spys for the tribe. She always caries around her sketchpad and a pencil or charchoal with her so she can sketch or
[Attitude >> She is very fragile, sometimes timid and hard to get to talk much. She says few words but is very expressionate. She also has a tendency to develop large headaches when someone she doesn’t know is around to much or if she is afraid of something. She is very mysterious and shy about her secret ability the tribes abuse to see what will happen.
[Notable History >>
Olette had been an orphan all her life and could not remember a time when she had a family. She was bubbly intelligent young child who was outgoing as you please. But she had a secret. She had the ability to draw out the future or see the past from her sketches in her large sketch pad she always has and had under the crook of her arm. She was permitted to never speak about it to the other children and was considered a freak when it got out. A child named Johnny Midgett had gotten into her sketch pad and had seen a sketch of him unconscious. Five minutes later still holding the paper and confused he slipped on the stairs and cracked his head open. Olette was forever shunned by the children and stayed near the nuns at the orphanage for companionship.
5/6/96
Dear Diary,
Mother Margret has found me parents!! I’m so overjoyed! I got so excited I accidently hacked into the CIA’s files again. Oops. But this time I didn’t put any pictures of the president flipping them off.
I bet they are a nice, well educated couple! In fact Father probably has an important job in politics or in banking. But he still has time to read me a story every night in bed. And my mother will be a computer graphic designer and we will stay home and bake cookies, and together we will surf the net! And I will attend a private school for prodigys! And there will be a cute little puppy with a black spot over his eye who will sleep with me in my nice big pink bed, and we will play on the weekends in the large front yard and then on the playground!
Oh! And Sister Grace found out about us diary. But she was very good about it and said she would send all my files to my new familys computer.
Oh my! Here they come to take me home!
5/7/96
Dear Diary,
There are no pink beds or playgrounds. Nor a private school for child prodigys. My father is not a important bussiness man but a used car dealer and my mother is not a graphics designer but a slob.
There are no cookies, nor bedtime storys.The dog has been replaced by a grumpy old cat who hisses at me and would rather hack hairballs than sleep with me at night. I’m glad for that at least, for he smells like rotten fish.
Oh I want to be back home at the orphanage! With the nuns and the children who are not very smart but are still nice… sometimes.
My father’s name is Ernest J. Morris and is thinning his hair by the hour. While my mother is loud and shrill and looks like she is sucking on a lemon all the time. She also wont let me call her “Mom” but makes me call her Gloris, to feel younger I suppose. My dad has knocked on the door. I hope he dosent want to play like he wanted to earlier. I don’t know what he meant but the way he looks at me is frightening.
Over the years Olette suffered much cruelty, as she was used as a servant to the family and was raped by her father frequently. The spark in her eyes became quenched and harder to see and looked more like a dying ember than the eternal flame it had once been. At 12 she decided she would run away… forever. She packed her sketchpad, charcoal and all other supplies she could fit into her small bag and ran from home and sat about Big Bens top and slipped on a “dropping from above” and went unconscious. Olette woke up not knowing who she was, or where she was. She wandered about aimlessly confused and traveled about England withought reason nor cause. She was gazing at the horizon on a beach one evening when a Japanese couple began talking to her in their language repeatedly saying Namine. Olette figured this /must/ have been her name and dubbed herself as such and with a unclear knowledge of where she was going she set out lightheartedly for a new land to which she could make her name known. Her hopeful, hysterical, bubbly side clashing with her new faded, confused and crazed side as she stared ahead into the sunset as the plane to the Americas began… And so started her new life. Being 16 now she figured maybe she wouldn’t make the same mistake of showing her secret talent. But it slipped out… how the strange new girl could draw the future, and lay out your past and present. She was falsely warmed into the tribes. But she put on a rather forced smile and shook her head saying she needed to make her own name here in New Pork. So she stays as unaligned wandering about with her sketchbook, where she keeps to herself and sketches the future out wishing it would tell her more of her future and less of her awful and forgotten past.
[Reputation >> The freak who has the strange mutation.
