Samael Razier | D8 | FIN
May 7, 2015 11:01:13 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on May 7, 2015 11:01:13 GMT -5
Name: Samael Razier
Age: 15
Gender: Female
District/Area: 8
Appearance:
A girl stares at herself in the mirror, hairline cracks embroidering the fringes of the modest glass, dusted with the layer of grime, comforting familiar grime that signals the time it has been there, a veil of delicate age. Her lithe frame suggests that she is close to being 94 lbs, and she stands at a modest 5 feet 4 inches.A slender, long hand with the fingers of a future pianist gently rub the dust away, revealing only her sierra eyes, dull and quite the opposite as a window to her soul. They are, in fact, the very mirror itself, stroked in a dull, burnt brown. The paint hasn't cracked. Through the dust her skin is a modest olive, the colour of the one who only looks longingly out the window instead of immersed in the moment, the sun beating down on her sharp little face. Her skinny bridge rapidly broadens into a swollen teardrop of a nose. Her mouth stretches wider than it need be, set in a delicate curve, like she has mastered the Mona Lisa smile.
Her upper lip is shaded a bland, rosy peach, thin and fragile. Her lower lip always seem to be half open, and it is relatively fuller than the upper, giving her a slightly pouting air. The girl's boisterous curls literally spring out of her scalp, the roots pure black and gradually lightening into the golden, sun-beaten dunes of the desert. Her tresses are rather fussy and frizzy in the dry air, and her bounty of flyaway hair proves that as they are outlined in the coming sun, as if they are captured convicts. The girl doesn't have much to boast about, her curves next to none, her breasts barely seen even against the tight tank top she's wearing. Her strong, large hands are country hands, riddled with scars and calluses. She manages to have little strength in those lithe limbs of hers, but agility and speed are definitely on her side. The girl looks out the window, a pitiful bird unable to find the final spark that will let her out of this cage.
Personality: Samael is a force to be reckoned with. Because of her relatively lanky frame she is often viewed as weak and selfless, but with her wit, she often uses others' interest in her to her advantage. She is manipulative and sneaky, but she has a graceful charm that she uses to conceal it. She plays herself off as an angel, appearing innocent and helpless at first, when in reality she is much the opposite. She knows what she wants, and she goes for it, plain and simple. However, there is a deeper side of her when it all comes down to it. Because of her past and what happened to her, she is very guarded and very slow to trust.
This means that she does not let anyone close and even if she befriends someone, she hardly ever trusts them with more than her name and occasional presence. Friendliness and affection are only a means to an end in her mind, and she keeps herself distanced from others in order to avoid hurting both them and herself. When someone does manage to get close to her, she can be affectionate and loving. All in all, her bitchy and manipulative personality is more of a cover and protection than it is her true self. She was hurt and used when she was younger, and because of this she does whatever she can to protect herself from it ever happening again. This means distance and it means a solitary life.
She feels the pull and need for companionship and friendship, but her fears force her away from it. She's hard to break, but that does not mean it's altogether impossible. When she finds something or someone that she can trust and put her faith in, she's very loyal and amiable. With her complicated personality, it's hard for her and others to start with a relatively tranquil beginning, and many so-called acquaintances who have have tried to befriend her are mislead, as they are the ones who committed harm and must be pushed away. Do you know the meaning of her name? It literally means 'the Wrath of God' and in some facets, it is true, but underneath her devilish side is a fragile girl that needs protection, an ally, but most of all, a true friend.
History: She was not born on a day of valour, on which after one final push, the mother would inevitably faint but feel a sense of immense triumph just before she passed out and the midwife would proceed to caress the newborn babe. Nope. She was born after one pathetic mistake made by two people, two people that should have never met, but alas, destiny weaves the strangest webs. So, she came into the world after a night of unprotected and drunken sex. Although the soon to be parents were not particularly pleased with this incident, they agreed to this strange idea, only if they had a boy. Yes, a boy. A healthy, energetic, fierce boy who would one day be their badge of proudness and strength. To enforce the embryo resting inside of the woman's womb, they decided to name it Samael, wrath of god, and most definitely had to be a boy.
Funny how a tiny switch of gender can ruin one's life. Imagine their surprise and rage as a little, quiet, healthy baby popped out. Yet she was a girl. Well, at least the mother fainted. In a fit of blinded rage, the father threw the baby on her fainted mother's breasts and proceeded to strangle the midwife. He surely hadn't meant to murder, of course, just injure her and get across his point, but in the shaking stage of madness, he squeezed too hard and crushed the midwife's windpipe. As the midwife's eyes became vacant and her struggling breaths eased into silence, her father's rage abruptly switched into immeasurable fear and shame and hanged himself with a bloodstained strip of cloth he had ripped from the cot where his wife and baby lay. Born with blood, killed with blood. However, in the middle of all this confusion and death, Samael wriggled weakly under her mother's clothes and found a milky white breast. She proceeded to suckle.
Years passed, and Sam became a quite intelligent girl, and learned the ways of the harsh streets. Although she had brains, the girl much preferred to stick her head in the clouds, birdsong, mist and dew in her head. Her mother was a quite fragile woman now, with violent mood swings that left Sam huddled in a dark corner, crying silently. She had learned to sob without a sound for when her mother heard her great, heaving cries, she flayed Sam to an inch of her life with disgusting, tainted words. But when Sam grew up to be a delicate teen, her mother gruffly but gently taught her how to knit, and after two year's worth of practice, Sam was more or less an expert. Crochet, stitching, embroidering, you name it, she made it. But what her mother didn't know was that Sam was practicing close range combat with modified needles and ropes studded with needles, and that Sam would grow up to be a fierce manipulative girl with a broken heart. As expected, Sam's mother died when she was eighteen, but she shed no tears and bore no grief, as she inherited the house from mum.
Everything was at peace, even Sam's fractured, but beating heart. She was alive.
Codeword: odair
Other: FC: Angelic Zambrana
Age: 15
Gender: Female
District/Area: 8
Appearance:
A girl stares at herself in the mirror, hairline cracks embroidering the fringes of the modest glass, dusted with the layer of grime, comforting familiar grime that signals the time it has been there, a veil of delicate age. Her lithe frame suggests that she is close to being 94 lbs, and she stands at a modest 5 feet 4 inches.A slender, long hand with the fingers of a future pianist gently rub the dust away, revealing only her sierra eyes, dull and quite the opposite as a window to her soul. They are, in fact, the very mirror itself, stroked in a dull, burnt brown. The paint hasn't cracked. Through the dust her skin is a modest olive, the colour of the one who only looks longingly out the window instead of immersed in the moment, the sun beating down on her sharp little face. Her skinny bridge rapidly broadens into a swollen teardrop of a nose. Her mouth stretches wider than it need be, set in a delicate curve, like she has mastered the Mona Lisa smile.
Her upper lip is shaded a bland, rosy peach, thin and fragile. Her lower lip always seem to be half open, and it is relatively fuller than the upper, giving her a slightly pouting air. The girl's boisterous curls literally spring out of her scalp, the roots pure black and gradually lightening into the golden, sun-beaten dunes of the desert. Her tresses are rather fussy and frizzy in the dry air, and her bounty of flyaway hair proves that as they are outlined in the coming sun, as if they are captured convicts. The girl doesn't have much to boast about, her curves next to none, her breasts barely seen even against the tight tank top she's wearing. Her strong, large hands are country hands, riddled with scars and calluses. She manages to have little strength in those lithe limbs of hers, but agility and speed are definitely on her side. The girl looks out the window, a pitiful bird unable to find the final spark that will let her out of this cage.
Personality: Samael is a force to be reckoned with. Because of her relatively lanky frame she is often viewed as weak and selfless, but with her wit, she often uses others' interest in her to her advantage. She is manipulative and sneaky, but she has a graceful charm that she uses to conceal it. She plays herself off as an angel, appearing innocent and helpless at first, when in reality she is much the opposite. She knows what she wants, and she goes for it, plain and simple. However, there is a deeper side of her when it all comes down to it. Because of her past and what happened to her, she is very guarded and very slow to trust.
This means that she does not let anyone close and even if she befriends someone, she hardly ever trusts them with more than her name and occasional presence. Friendliness and affection are only a means to an end in her mind, and she keeps herself distanced from others in order to avoid hurting both them and herself. When someone does manage to get close to her, she can be affectionate and loving. All in all, her bitchy and manipulative personality is more of a cover and protection than it is her true self. She was hurt and used when she was younger, and because of this she does whatever she can to protect herself from it ever happening again. This means distance and it means a solitary life.
She feels the pull and need for companionship and friendship, but her fears force her away from it. She's hard to break, but that does not mean it's altogether impossible. When she finds something or someone that she can trust and put her faith in, she's very loyal and amiable. With her complicated personality, it's hard for her and others to start with a relatively tranquil beginning, and many so-called acquaintances who have have tried to befriend her are mislead, as they are the ones who committed harm and must be pushed away. Do you know the meaning of her name? It literally means 'the Wrath of God' and in some facets, it is true, but underneath her devilish side is a fragile girl that needs protection, an ally, but most of all, a true friend.
History: She was not born on a day of valour, on which after one final push, the mother would inevitably faint but feel a sense of immense triumph just before she passed out and the midwife would proceed to caress the newborn babe. Nope. She was born after one pathetic mistake made by two people, two people that should have never met, but alas, destiny weaves the strangest webs. So, she came into the world after a night of unprotected and drunken sex. Although the soon to be parents were not particularly pleased with this incident, they agreed to this strange idea, only if they had a boy. Yes, a boy. A healthy, energetic, fierce boy who would one day be their badge of proudness and strength. To enforce the embryo resting inside of the woman's womb, they decided to name it Samael, wrath of god, and most definitely had to be a boy.
Funny how a tiny switch of gender can ruin one's life. Imagine their surprise and rage as a little, quiet, healthy baby popped out. Yet she was a girl. Well, at least the mother fainted. In a fit of blinded rage, the father threw the baby on her fainted mother's breasts and proceeded to strangle the midwife. He surely hadn't meant to murder, of course, just injure her and get across his point, but in the shaking stage of madness, he squeezed too hard and crushed the midwife's windpipe. As the midwife's eyes became vacant and her struggling breaths eased into silence, her father's rage abruptly switched into immeasurable fear and shame and hanged himself with a bloodstained strip of cloth he had ripped from the cot where his wife and baby lay. Born with blood, killed with blood. However, in the middle of all this confusion and death, Samael wriggled weakly under her mother's clothes and found a milky white breast. She proceeded to suckle.
Years passed, and Sam became a quite intelligent girl, and learned the ways of the harsh streets. Although she had brains, the girl much preferred to stick her head in the clouds, birdsong, mist and dew in her head. Her mother was a quite fragile woman now, with violent mood swings that left Sam huddled in a dark corner, crying silently. She had learned to sob without a sound for when her mother heard her great, heaving cries, she flayed Sam to an inch of her life with disgusting, tainted words. But when Sam grew up to be a delicate teen, her mother gruffly but gently taught her how to knit, and after two year's worth of practice, Sam was more or less an expert. Crochet, stitching, embroidering, you name it, she made it. But what her mother didn't know was that Sam was practicing close range combat with modified needles and ropes studded with needles, and that Sam would grow up to be a fierce manipulative girl with a broken heart. As expected, Sam's mother died when she was eighteen, but she shed no tears and bore no grief, as she inherited the house from mum.
Everything was at peace, even Sam's fractured, but beating heart. She was alive.
Codeword: odair
Other: FC: Angelic Zambrana
