Post by Chantrea on Aug 27, 2008 1:17:20 GMT -5
Contact Information: MSN. PM me for the address.
Roleplaying Experience: Three real-life role play years (Vampire The Masquerade) and four online role play years. So, total, almost ten years.
How did you find us?: You affiliated with The Avatar RP.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Is He/She a Canon?: No.
Nationality: Southern Water Trive
Location: Sometimes in the Northern Tribe, but mostly in the Earth Kingdom.
Alliance: She’s on her own.
Is He/She a Bender?: Water bender
Character's Name: Chantrea (translates to ‘moon’ or ‘light of the moon’)
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Height: 5’6”
Appearance: Fringed bangs fall around the healthy glow of peach tinted skin, the color of dulled starlight. Chantrea’s long hair is pulled back on the top into a tight braid, melting in with the remainder, which goes down to her hips, pulling a third of the way into a merged braid, then tied off to let the rest of the straight strands fall down her back and into soft flared ends. Her brows are thin, feminine, and almost always in the downward angle as if she’s watching children goof around. Her eyes, though wide in the middle, but narrowed at the corners, are a shy, nervous gray that matches her hair color perfectly. The pupils are wide and slightly curved towards the whites of her eyes, like a new star. Her eyes do not reflect light, but instead take it in, almost as if she’s storing it for future use. A small, petite nose rests centered on her face, lightly curved towards the sky, in a pixie style. Her lips are full, but pale, never covered in makeup. She looks rather delicate.
A knee length black coat covers her arms and most of her body, though it’s often open in the front. It is made of black cotton, though it mimics and feels remarkably similar to silk. It buttons from the lowest rib up to the neck, though strains against her chest when closed, as it is fairly small. Her undershirt is a black sleeveless that could be worn as a shirt or part of a swimsuit. She wears it as an under top. Over it, the button up white denim hugs her slim waist, hugging her hips snugly without moving itself (in other words, she has it in a way that it wont ride up). It’s sleeves are long, trailing under her jacket sleeves and flaring out (Victorian in style), and covers her hands most of the way, leaving her fingers shown, but the knuckle and middle joint covered, giving her arms a longer appearance.
Her pants are loose, but a stitched in belt holds them up, buckling around her waist, loose enough that her wide hips prevent them from slipping down. The fabric feels like water, cool to the touch, flowing and rippling. Upon further inspection, the white material seems to have light blue intricate stitch patterns sewn into the bottom edges. They end at her ankles, where the smooth expanse of leg connects with the foot. She resembles a dancer, though she’s not much for the sport outside of waterbending. A simple set of black shoes cover her feet and toes, pointed as if she were a pixie. They have slight heels on them, which are in a wedge form to give her a small boost.
History: Chantrea knew she was different from the moment she had been born. Like any other newborn, she cried, but it was from confusion. Her hair was sort and thin, though would later grow into a graceful mane of silky silver locks, and her body frail. She had been a cute baby, thin but with the all too familiar baby fat all children were blessed with. Chantrea’s parents, whom she can’t remember their faces or names, were frightened.
Chantrea was, by far, the single most unique child to be born in the Southern Tribe. It put her in danger. Her parents realized this and devised a plan to get Chantrea to the Northern Tribe, where she would be safe. They were familiar with the Northern Tribe. Her parents had been born there and migrated south to the small fortress under the frozen sun. It took weeks of planning. Longer to get there.
They were welcomed with open arms, Chantrea and her parents were given a home near the center of the tribe. Over time, Chantrea grew into a pretty talented girl. She learned waterbending from her mother, who was a healer most of the time for the Tribe. She was treated like a princess, but she didn’t like it. One afternoon, when the sun was setting, and the moon was just starting to rise, she had formed a paper thin sheet of ice. Looking at her reflection, the girl noticed how much she had grown. Tilting her head lightly to the left, her eyes widened and she jerked back away from the ice and spun around. What had that been?
Turning back to the ice, she leaned in close and brushed a strand of silvery hair from her eyes. Her eyes went blank for a period of time. In the reflective, perfectly formed ice sheet, she saw an image. Two people, moving around. Her mother was arguing with a man, her father. She saw the silver glint of the ice slice down in an arc, but at the time, she didn’t know what was happening. The sheet of ice suddenly shattered and she jumped up to tell her mother what she’d just seen. It was like magic.
“Mommy!” The four year old child giggled as her mother swept her up in her arms. She didn’t know that in just two days time, her mother would be gone. She told her mother that she had been playing with the water, freezing it into a mirror. That in the mirror, she saw her father hit her. Her mother realized what had happened. She sat her daughter down and explained to her that she had been given a gift by the spirits. She could see into the future, though it wouldn’t be very far. Just far enough.
When her mother tried to tell the father what was happening, her vision came true. Chantrea fled from the house, hiding from the murder she had witnessed. The snow beneath her feet turned into slick ice and she ran along it, not noticing the three orbs of light following her. The buildings passed in a blur until she was running through flashes of green and blue. The orbs surrounded her and she disappeared. She fell, she didn’t know how long, but landed with a heavy thud in a place she didn’t recognize. She cried for her mother, knowing she wasn’t going to get another hug, or loving kiss on the cheek from the woman who had given her everything she could ever want. The orbs rest in front of her, the three different colors contrasting sharply against the dark brown of the compacted earth surrounding her. She was in an unfamiliar place. There were trees around, mountains jutting sharply up. She was standing on an island in the middle of a large lake, unsure of how she got there.
The area was hot. Almost stifling. Pulling at her collar, Chantrea shed her Water Tribe clothing and stood, sweating, in her traditional Water Tribe under clothing. She still felt hot, but she wasn’t willing to degrade herself to the point where she’d walk around nude. She knew where she was now. She’d seen it many times in her dreams. Turning to the lake, the young Chantrea stepped hesitantly towards the water. A trail of ice spread from the edge of the land to the shore she hadn’t noticed before. Nervous, she began to crouch, but the orbs didn’t allow her to crawl. One on either side of her, and one in front, they led her safely to the shore, where she watched with wonder as the orbs expanded and formed three people, two men, one woman.
Over the next twelve years, the human grew into a pretty young lady, mastering her Seer power. She often hated her power, but she was told many times that she was special, she was unique. She was a link, able to see the Spirit Realm inside the real world, the spirits, land and power that laced through the four nations together. She met a few of the previous Avatars, if only briefly. They all told her the same thing her three spirit orbs that traveled with her told her.
A month after her sixteenth birthday, Chantrea was ready to return to the real world. With a heartbreaking goodbye, the sixteen year old water bender left the Spirit Realm with the three invisible guardian spirits at her side, always with her, but never seen. Over her travels, she returned to the Northern Tribe for only a few brief hours. She gathered supplies she would need, though she knew her spirits would provide food, clothing and shelter for her when she required it. She planned not to abuse that fact, and instead worked hard for her money, which she gained easily through her ability to create clothing fit for royals.
She left the Northern Water Tribe not too long after returning, heading straight to the Earth Kingdom after a long ship ride. In the Earth Kingdom, she acquired a small flute. The type with a dozen bamboo tubes varying in length from two inches to thirteen. It was long, but fit nicely in the pack she was given by a kind merchant in exchange for helping him with his crops by watering them. He was elderly, unable to do it himself.
Chantrea noticed that her years in the Spirit Realm had left her bending weak and immature. She spent the majority of her time working on gaining power. Most of this time she spent near lakes or rivers, bending the water and learning from her spirit guardians as they moved around in their ghostly forms, teaching her each day. Her nonstop progress left her without sleep for days on end. When she would finally collapse from exhaustion, she would rest easy, knowing she was protected. After nearly a year, Chantrea had nearly mastered her bending (well, as far as she possibly could without a physical master instructing her) and began traveling once again.
Chantrea is currently traveling, learning by herself how to practice her pan flute and live from her surroundings. She developed the skill of archery to hunt wildlife, but is often seen sitting on a fallen tree in a forest playing a soft, comforting tune that sounds like a lullaby. Sometimes she would be hired to play for parties. She likes to sit around or even stand and play for children she encounter who are crying for something their parents can’t buy for them. Nine times out of ten, the children will be asleep by the time she’s done.
Inventory: To keep it simple, she carries a small sack of money around attached to her belt, hidden beneath her coat. She has some clean clothes in a black back that hooks over her shoulder to her hip, over her jacket. The zipper is against her back so no one would be able to get into it other than her unless she has it off (which she rarely does). Inside the bag, nestled snugly between the tightly compacted, neatly folded clothes, is her pan flute.
Personality: Chantrea is the type of person who is very in tune with nature. She understands things most others don’t and never jumps to conclusions. She often is approached by small animals and children. Because of her frightening power to foresee the future, she tends to be very quiet and shy around people she doesn’t know, but once you get to know her, she’s very casual and understanding.
Strengths: A good pan pipe player. Understanding, cautious, friendly and somewhat outgoing, easily approachable. Great seamstress and friend. Isn’t afraid to get down and dirty or get in a fight.
Weaknesses: Too quiet at times, tends to be sarcastic when feeling threatened. Sometimes doesn’t pay close enough attention to her surroundings, and she has a tendency to straighten things like clothes or arrange food on a plate like a professional chef (which gets on peoples nerves sometimes.) Has too large an appetite.
Sample Roleplay: When you play with fire, you’re going to get burned. Ryuuk learned that first hand when she’d entered this d**ned competition. In the middle of a burnt down building, the ruins around her, most of them cleaned away from a large, fifty foot makeshift arena in all directions, seemed impending and invasive. Like she shouldn’t be there. But she had no choice. She was basically forced into joining this tournament because she was low on cash. She refused to sell her fans or flute because they meant a lot to her, but they would have received quite the hefty price if she’d decided to sell them to someone.
Stretching her leg behind her, Ryuuk leaned forward to relax her muscles. She’d gone through five rounds already, earning a little over five-hundred for all five rounds, one-hundred each opponent, but she still felt stiff and weak. She had signed a contract, signing the agreement that she couldn’t sue anyone if she got hurt. Now, Ryuuk wasn’t all too interested in fighting with her firebending. In fact, she’d never used it for anything more than self defense and cooking. She could breath out fire if she wanted to, scorch her enemies before they even knew what was happening to them, catch her fans on fire and use them as a form of a boomerang for long distance attacks.
Didn’t mean that she liked it. Ryuuk had tended to stay out of the lifestyle her birth family had been into, fighting for money and besting others just for the hell of it. She’d disapproved of fighting since her childhood, yet she was forced into it for the second time in her life.
Letting loose a deep breath, sparks escaped from behind her lips, smoke forming in the air before her before she shrugged off her kimono to remain in her skintight black warrior’s outfit. Her hair pulled back into a tight braided bun, she had no worries about getting it burned. She pushed her hands together, linking her fingers, and cracked them all at once. Rotating her hands and wrists, the soft, sharp popping let her know she was just about as relaxes as she could ever be. Bending back, her spine reacted smoothly, stretching and giving her a nice spring in her step. Cracking her neck and elbows, she was ready again.
Waiting for her next opponent, the seventeen year old female firebender tucked both of her flutes, one made of metal, the other of transparent, freezing cold ice (a gift from a waterbender up in the Northern tribe), into the back of her tight sash, in the X pattern so she could grab them easily if the need arose. Her fans were firmly tucked against her sides, the moon amulet hidden beneath her high black collar. Just who was she waiting for. Standing at one end of the arena, she sighed and worked the knots out of her muscles one last time before the next opponent stepped into the ring.
Roleplaying Experience: Three real-life role play years (Vampire The Masquerade) and four online role play years. So, total, almost ten years.
How did you find us?: You affiliated with The Avatar RP.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Is He/She a Canon?: No.
Nationality: Southern Water Trive
Location: Sometimes in the Northern Tribe, but mostly in the Earth Kingdom.
Alliance: She’s on her own.
Is He/She a Bender?: Water bender
Character's Name: Chantrea (translates to ‘moon’ or ‘light of the moon’)
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Height: 5’6”
Appearance: Fringed bangs fall around the healthy glow of peach tinted skin, the color of dulled starlight. Chantrea’s long hair is pulled back on the top into a tight braid, melting in with the remainder, which goes down to her hips, pulling a third of the way into a merged braid, then tied off to let the rest of the straight strands fall down her back and into soft flared ends. Her brows are thin, feminine, and almost always in the downward angle as if she’s watching children goof around. Her eyes, though wide in the middle, but narrowed at the corners, are a shy, nervous gray that matches her hair color perfectly. The pupils are wide and slightly curved towards the whites of her eyes, like a new star. Her eyes do not reflect light, but instead take it in, almost as if she’s storing it for future use. A small, petite nose rests centered on her face, lightly curved towards the sky, in a pixie style. Her lips are full, but pale, never covered in makeup. She looks rather delicate.
A knee length black coat covers her arms and most of her body, though it’s often open in the front. It is made of black cotton, though it mimics and feels remarkably similar to silk. It buttons from the lowest rib up to the neck, though strains against her chest when closed, as it is fairly small. Her undershirt is a black sleeveless that could be worn as a shirt or part of a swimsuit. She wears it as an under top. Over it, the button up white denim hugs her slim waist, hugging her hips snugly without moving itself (in other words, she has it in a way that it wont ride up). It’s sleeves are long, trailing under her jacket sleeves and flaring out (Victorian in style), and covers her hands most of the way, leaving her fingers shown, but the knuckle and middle joint covered, giving her arms a longer appearance.
Her pants are loose, but a stitched in belt holds them up, buckling around her waist, loose enough that her wide hips prevent them from slipping down. The fabric feels like water, cool to the touch, flowing and rippling. Upon further inspection, the white material seems to have light blue intricate stitch patterns sewn into the bottom edges. They end at her ankles, where the smooth expanse of leg connects with the foot. She resembles a dancer, though she’s not much for the sport outside of waterbending. A simple set of black shoes cover her feet and toes, pointed as if she were a pixie. They have slight heels on them, which are in a wedge form to give her a small boost.
History: Chantrea knew she was different from the moment she had been born. Like any other newborn, she cried, but it was from confusion. Her hair was sort and thin, though would later grow into a graceful mane of silky silver locks, and her body frail. She had been a cute baby, thin but with the all too familiar baby fat all children were blessed with. Chantrea’s parents, whom she can’t remember their faces or names, were frightened.
Chantrea was, by far, the single most unique child to be born in the Southern Tribe. It put her in danger. Her parents realized this and devised a plan to get Chantrea to the Northern Tribe, where she would be safe. They were familiar with the Northern Tribe. Her parents had been born there and migrated south to the small fortress under the frozen sun. It took weeks of planning. Longer to get there.
They were welcomed with open arms, Chantrea and her parents were given a home near the center of the tribe. Over time, Chantrea grew into a pretty talented girl. She learned waterbending from her mother, who was a healer most of the time for the Tribe. She was treated like a princess, but she didn’t like it. One afternoon, when the sun was setting, and the moon was just starting to rise, she had formed a paper thin sheet of ice. Looking at her reflection, the girl noticed how much she had grown. Tilting her head lightly to the left, her eyes widened and she jerked back away from the ice and spun around. What had that been?
Turning back to the ice, she leaned in close and brushed a strand of silvery hair from her eyes. Her eyes went blank for a period of time. In the reflective, perfectly formed ice sheet, she saw an image. Two people, moving around. Her mother was arguing with a man, her father. She saw the silver glint of the ice slice down in an arc, but at the time, she didn’t know what was happening. The sheet of ice suddenly shattered and she jumped up to tell her mother what she’d just seen. It was like magic.
“Mommy!” The four year old child giggled as her mother swept her up in her arms. She didn’t know that in just two days time, her mother would be gone. She told her mother that she had been playing with the water, freezing it into a mirror. That in the mirror, she saw her father hit her. Her mother realized what had happened. She sat her daughter down and explained to her that she had been given a gift by the spirits. She could see into the future, though it wouldn’t be very far. Just far enough.
When her mother tried to tell the father what was happening, her vision came true. Chantrea fled from the house, hiding from the murder she had witnessed. The snow beneath her feet turned into slick ice and she ran along it, not noticing the three orbs of light following her. The buildings passed in a blur until she was running through flashes of green and blue. The orbs surrounded her and she disappeared. She fell, she didn’t know how long, but landed with a heavy thud in a place she didn’t recognize. She cried for her mother, knowing she wasn’t going to get another hug, or loving kiss on the cheek from the woman who had given her everything she could ever want. The orbs rest in front of her, the three different colors contrasting sharply against the dark brown of the compacted earth surrounding her. She was in an unfamiliar place. There were trees around, mountains jutting sharply up. She was standing on an island in the middle of a large lake, unsure of how she got there.
The area was hot. Almost stifling. Pulling at her collar, Chantrea shed her Water Tribe clothing and stood, sweating, in her traditional Water Tribe under clothing. She still felt hot, but she wasn’t willing to degrade herself to the point where she’d walk around nude. She knew where she was now. She’d seen it many times in her dreams. Turning to the lake, the young Chantrea stepped hesitantly towards the water. A trail of ice spread from the edge of the land to the shore she hadn’t noticed before. Nervous, she began to crouch, but the orbs didn’t allow her to crawl. One on either side of her, and one in front, they led her safely to the shore, where she watched with wonder as the orbs expanded and formed three people, two men, one woman.
Over the next twelve years, the human grew into a pretty young lady, mastering her Seer power. She often hated her power, but she was told many times that she was special, she was unique. She was a link, able to see the Spirit Realm inside the real world, the spirits, land and power that laced through the four nations together. She met a few of the previous Avatars, if only briefly. They all told her the same thing her three spirit orbs that traveled with her told her.
A month after her sixteenth birthday, Chantrea was ready to return to the real world. With a heartbreaking goodbye, the sixteen year old water bender left the Spirit Realm with the three invisible guardian spirits at her side, always with her, but never seen. Over her travels, she returned to the Northern Tribe for only a few brief hours. She gathered supplies she would need, though she knew her spirits would provide food, clothing and shelter for her when she required it. She planned not to abuse that fact, and instead worked hard for her money, which she gained easily through her ability to create clothing fit for royals.
She left the Northern Water Tribe not too long after returning, heading straight to the Earth Kingdom after a long ship ride. In the Earth Kingdom, she acquired a small flute. The type with a dozen bamboo tubes varying in length from two inches to thirteen. It was long, but fit nicely in the pack she was given by a kind merchant in exchange for helping him with his crops by watering them. He was elderly, unable to do it himself.
Chantrea noticed that her years in the Spirit Realm had left her bending weak and immature. She spent the majority of her time working on gaining power. Most of this time she spent near lakes or rivers, bending the water and learning from her spirit guardians as they moved around in their ghostly forms, teaching her each day. Her nonstop progress left her without sleep for days on end. When she would finally collapse from exhaustion, she would rest easy, knowing she was protected. After nearly a year, Chantrea had nearly mastered her bending (well, as far as she possibly could without a physical master instructing her) and began traveling once again.
Chantrea is currently traveling, learning by herself how to practice her pan flute and live from her surroundings. She developed the skill of archery to hunt wildlife, but is often seen sitting on a fallen tree in a forest playing a soft, comforting tune that sounds like a lullaby. Sometimes she would be hired to play for parties. She likes to sit around or even stand and play for children she encounter who are crying for something their parents can’t buy for them. Nine times out of ten, the children will be asleep by the time she’s done.
Inventory: To keep it simple, she carries a small sack of money around attached to her belt, hidden beneath her coat. She has some clean clothes in a black back that hooks over her shoulder to her hip, over her jacket. The zipper is against her back so no one would be able to get into it other than her unless she has it off (which she rarely does). Inside the bag, nestled snugly between the tightly compacted, neatly folded clothes, is her pan flute.
Personality: Chantrea is the type of person who is very in tune with nature. She understands things most others don’t and never jumps to conclusions. She often is approached by small animals and children. Because of her frightening power to foresee the future, she tends to be very quiet and shy around people she doesn’t know, but once you get to know her, she’s very casual and understanding.
Strengths: A good pan pipe player. Understanding, cautious, friendly and somewhat outgoing, easily approachable. Great seamstress and friend. Isn’t afraid to get down and dirty or get in a fight.
Weaknesses: Too quiet at times, tends to be sarcastic when feeling threatened. Sometimes doesn’t pay close enough attention to her surroundings, and she has a tendency to straighten things like clothes or arrange food on a plate like a professional chef (which gets on peoples nerves sometimes.) Has too large an appetite.
Sample Roleplay: When you play with fire, you’re going to get burned. Ryuuk learned that first hand when she’d entered this d**ned competition. In the middle of a burnt down building, the ruins around her, most of them cleaned away from a large, fifty foot makeshift arena in all directions, seemed impending and invasive. Like she shouldn’t be there. But she had no choice. She was basically forced into joining this tournament because she was low on cash. She refused to sell her fans or flute because they meant a lot to her, but they would have received quite the hefty price if she’d decided to sell them to someone.
Stretching her leg behind her, Ryuuk leaned forward to relax her muscles. She’d gone through five rounds already, earning a little over five-hundred for all five rounds, one-hundred each opponent, but she still felt stiff and weak. She had signed a contract, signing the agreement that she couldn’t sue anyone if she got hurt. Now, Ryuuk wasn’t all too interested in fighting with her firebending. In fact, she’d never used it for anything more than self defense and cooking. She could breath out fire if she wanted to, scorch her enemies before they even knew what was happening to them, catch her fans on fire and use them as a form of a boomerang for long distance attacks.
Didn’t mean that she liked it. Ryuuk had tended to stay out of the lifestyle her birth family had been into, fighting for money and besting others just for the hell of it. She’d disapproved of fighting since her childhood, yet she was forced into it for the second time in her life.
Letting loose a deep breath, sparks escaped from behind her lips, smoke forming in the air before her before she shrugged off her kimono to remain in her skintight black warrior’s outfit. Her hair pulled back into a tight braided bun, she had no worries about getting it burned. She pushed her hands together, linking her fingers, and cracked them all at once. Rotating her hands and wrists, the soft, sharp popping let her know she was just about as relaxes as she could ever be. Bending back, her spine reacted smoothly, stretching and giving her a nice spring in her step. Cracking her neck and elbows, she was ready again.
Waiting for her next opponent, the seventeen year old female firebender tucked both of her flutes, one made of metal, the other of transparent, freezing cold ice (a gift from a waterbender up in the Northern tribe), into the back of her tight sash, in the X pattern so she could grab them easily if the need arose. Her fans were firmly tucked against her sides, the moon amulet hidden beneath her high black collar. Just who was she waiting for. Standing at one end of the arena, she sighed and worked the knots out of her muscles one last time before the next opponent stepped into the ring.
