Post by Dawn on Jun 11, 2011 18:07:02 GMT -5
CHARACTER APPLICATION
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[ FULL NAME: ] Dawn Oliver
[ ALIAS/NICKNAME(S): ]
[ AGE: ] 17
[ GENDER: ] Female
[ SEXUAL ORIENTATION: ] Heterosexual
[ ETHNIC GROUP: ] Mixed
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[ RANK: ] C
[ AFFILIATION: ] Storm Riders
[ JOB/OCCUPATION: ] Courier
[ BIRTHDAY: ] 12/30/94
[ BIRTHPLACE: ] Small Town
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[ PICTURE: ]
[ WRITTEN APPEARANCE: ] Dawn has the appearance of someone, in a photo. Her features are always accented, her smile permanent and her beauty never ending. She has a skin tone and looks relating to that of india. Her voice is melodious, as if every word that comes out of her mouth is in song, which is almost in tone with her body. She is lean... skinny from head to toe, but in no way does that mean she's weak as for some reason she has physical strength within this guise of skinniness. Her body seems to naturally radiate with the scent of Vanilla and the scent of lilies in an icy field. While her personality may be that of a cold girl, her appearance seems to directly contradict her thoughts, as it is as warm as it is inviting.
Her hair, white as snow cascades brilliantly down to her upper back, framing the blue eyes she gazes so softly with. Green marks rest deep within her eyes, the result of her nano-augmentation, no matter the light shining or the dark that creeps her eyes shine radiantly and proudly almost as a deterrent to the dark that has claimed so many before her. She's a 32-24-24 figure but she wasn't always blessed that way. It was through Nanotechnological Augmentations that she looks the way she does and the beauty of it is more than skin deep.
[ HEIGHT: ] 5'11
[ WEIGHT: ] 115lbs
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[ PERSONALITY: ] Dawn is calm as she is kind as she is calm. She rarely shows emotion other than happiness, and intrigue. She is cool even in battle. During a fight, she will get vibrant and vicious if the situation calls for it, but she likes controlling her surroundings, and being stealthy. However, outside of battle, when she finds something that makes her happy, she brightens up as if her icy shell is evaporated. However when Drunk she's a different person. She's loud and crazy and usually ends up on top of something.. with her clothes thrown somewhere and photos of her on every social networking site. She's fun however, she gets along well with people as long as there is no touching.
Dawn seems slightly shy towards physical proximity outside of a combat situation, as she is one to shy away from hugs or even physical embraces that people have bestowed on her, only shown touching someone when she hugs her close friends. She does however have a Vulnerable side, as she can store grief and pain in her for only so long, until she has to find a release, lest she lash out on those that are actually on her team. When first meeting someone her entire reaction is based on prior events of the day. On Good Notes, she is open... jovial even melodic. On bad days however... it'd be best to avoid her reach as heads can and will roll. She rarely mentions her adoptive parents deaths and tends to avoid that subject at all costs. She's haunted by the thoughts that they died because of her, and while she won't let anyone see it, she will go into an emotional breakdown if she thinks about it too much.
[ LIKES: ] Music, Weed, Fire and a long night's rest.
[ DISLIKES: ] Ignorant Bald Heads, Water, Cats and Pollen
[ HOBBIES: ] Cooking, Dancing, Singing, Blazing
[ TALENTS: ] She can Roll a damn good blunt, She's a great cook and she can dance on the head of a pin.
[ FAVORITE FOOD: ] Cinnamon Buns
[ FAVORITE MUSIC: ] Anything but Bluegrass
[ FORTE IN SPORTS: ] Football and Parkour
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[ HISTORY: ] Dawn Oliver was born in Small Town, UK. Adopted at age 6, she was taken to where her family lived. Spending most of her early years growing up as a regular little girl, she was oblivious to the going's on in the world, which included the Air Gear craze that was rising up. At age 12 she got her first pair of treks. At first it started off as small things.. She'd ride around town, practicing her skills in riding with her skills in urban exploration. Eventually she got good... and than she got really f*cking good. She'd pull off tricks and stunts that no one else had seen and she did it with a smile on her face. Eventually, things became really f*cking bad.
One man in town found out what she was and pretty soon it became your textbook witch hunt. He hated her... she didn't know why, she'd never understand why but the hate grew like a plague. It was dreadful and as she grew with it, she couldn't do anything to stop it, as her word was the devils. Eventually concerns turned to outbursts turned to riots turned to attempts. Looking back she had to admit some of them were damned clever. One of them however changed everything about her. The man got drunk one night with his best friend .. so they decided... after many many rounds of drinks.. to go pay her a visit. They came beating on her door and her parents, went down to stem the tides of angry mobs... only to face true anger. A fight broke out and she's unsure on how it ended, but all she could remember was the smell of anaesthesia and a cold dead feeling in her body.
The doctors would tell her that somehow the kitchen exploded, catching everyone in the house in the blast. Dawn would've survived due to her being the farthest from the blast however, not without some costs. The nerves in her legs were dying and the blast had blinded her slightly. Physical Therapy was a bitch.. it took her 2 years to get her legs back to any semblance of normality, and her eyes aren't as good as they once were, but the dead nerves did give her a higher threshold for pain which is what drove her to getting back into the swing of things. It took her a while to adjust to the new things but she had bigger things to take care of. She spent the next 3 years hunting down the bastard who took her parents away and eventually she had her vengeance. She took his life... and something else that belonged to him, and as she rode away... a fire burning behind her, she decided to move on.. find something better to do with her life. Something to take her mind off of things. Which is when she met him.
[ FIGHTING STYLE: ] She fights the way someone who has no training would fight. She fights with no stances or moves. She fights to win, however she can. She has amazing stamina as she can take a punch like a fucking warrior, but it's her lack of discipline that usually holds her back.
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[ ROLEPLAY SAMPLE: ]
She was laying down on a cot, staring at the ceiling of her tent. Mirage resting at her side she couldn't hear anything around her but her own breathing. The world around her was being torn apart by bombardments and gunfire but all she could focus on was her breath. It was keeping her sane, the last time she went out into the fray she almost flipped on her own team... she prayed that never happened again. The flap to the tent opened up and she was signalled outside. Getting up she stepped outside and their was a meeting going on with the entire battalion.
First Sergeant Fenix was waiting for the platoon and as Cindy got in line he began his ritual. First Sergeant Fenix checked his watch: 2059; he looked up and saw his whole force assembled, Not bad, he thought. A small grin showed on his face, they couldn't see it behind his beard though. Michael began speaking, "Alright is everyone squared away and ready to step off?"
"Yes sir!" The Force replied.
"Good stuff." Michael said, he had to finish some last minute housekeeping, "This being a rather small operation, radio call signs will be as such:
Force: Sword
Sergeant Hobbar: Sword-Six Actual
Corporal Anderson: Sword-Five-Actual
Private Love: Sword-Four-Actual
After running through the radio call signs, Fenix quickly reviewed the plan with the platoon, "There may be a civilian presence so check fire, we know the enemy is uniformed so identify before you shoot, but when you shoot, shoot to kill." Lastly, Michael wanted to go over the mission plan, he grabbed a map from the table behind him and posted it up on the board next to him.
"We'll be moving in from the north to the tallest hill in the AO. B-29's will be on route at 2200 so be out of the fucking way when they come through. We'll be moving in to standby and wait for support from 122nd. This will be designated point Alpha. There is a small communications tower in the middle of the field, 500 meters North from Point Alpha. We need Second Section and Third Section to make a move on the tower and disable... don't want no fucking krauts radioing back to the main command and having a whole battalion down here in an hour. Get down there and do your damn job. Anderson... this is your time to shine." He pointed at Cindy and she went up to the front of the platoon as she was given a position of importance this time around.
"Listen Anderson.. leave Mirage in your cot and take a regular fucking gun, this isn't a stealth mission, we'll have the rest of the platoon at Alpha providing Overwatch for you, so don't be afraid to get loud, because they won't be getting into the tower." She nodded and turned towards the platoon with a stern look. She was going to have a horrible time coping without her baby, but orders were orders. "Make your way to the armory and get locked and loaded. No one dies today! Dismissed!"
The platoon saluted and went back to their duties as Fenix made his way back to his tent. Cindy walked towards the armory and began looking around slowly for something that piqued her interest. Grabbing her CAR-15, she took it's sling and wrapped it around her back as she picked up her M1 pistol. She was stuck with the sound of her breath once more. 2015 was go time and it would've been dark in the Bohemian sky if it weren't for the blood red tint to the world. Breathe in, breathe out. She pulled her goggles down from her hair and rested them over her eyes as the blood red tint mixed with the icy blue shade of her goggles. The result was a bleeding purple that was both calming... and frightening. Standing behind the tent flap she loaded a clip into her Commando and checked it's sights, stock and barrel. Breathe in... breathe out.
