Post by Fish on Jan 24, 2011 16:52:34 GMT -5
willow victoria quicke
"
Ship shape,
Ticker tape,
Looks to me like a narrow escape,
But I know what I am,
They know what they are
So let me be"
NICKNAME(s) Will
AGE 19
GENDER Female
SEXUALITY Straight
GROUP Human
MAJOR n/a
OCCUPATION Librarian
STATUS Single
ELEMENT Neutral
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PLAY BY Winona Ryder
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Nearly all animals
Food
The Beach
Climbing things
Company
People
Music
Learning new things
Archery
DISLIKES Dogs
The Cold
People who are cruel to others
Bullies
Being Lied to
STRENGTHS Archery
People Skills
WEAKNESSES Trusting
Naive
OVERALL Willow is perhaps the most easy woman in the world to please. She loves anyone and everyone who she meets. Give her a twig and she'll find some reason to adore it. She sees the beauty in all life. Except for dogs, but that really is only because of an unfortunate incident when she was a child, and honestly she tries her best to love them as well! It just...doesn't work very well. Because of this, Willow is often easy to deceive. She believes holy in second chances, and if you wrong her once, she'll continue to trust you until the world falls apart.
Willow is a dreamer, and has been told more then once that her head is stuck in the clouds. She speaks in a soft, light voice, and can sometimes trail off before finishing a sentence because her thoughts are already on to the next topic. She's rather superstitious, and as a large assortment of good luck charms. Willow loves archery, and has become quite skilled at it. Another of her passions is dance.
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MOTHER Hannah, 41, unknown, ;estranged
SIBLING(S) none
OTHER Jem Quicke, 45, Uncle
HISTORY Willow was born out of wedlock to two strong parents - the brave and strong Evander Quicke, and the exotic and wild Hannah Arquette. At first thing seemed to be going well. Willow was a quiet child who didn't cry much as we fairly easy to take care of. All the same, Hannah could not embrace motherhood, and in a fit of depression and, let's be honest, temper tantrums, she left Evander and Willow behind for a life of her own. Willow was three at the time.
Evander at this point was rather sick of his partner and was glad to see her go. He tried to be the best father he could be, though he was perhaps a bit distant at times. Often he was away for his work as a map maker, and during those times Willow stayed with her Uncle Jem. Her uncle, unlike her father, was a jolly, playful man. He tutored Willow from childhood and taught her everything there was to know about the world.
As Willow grew older, she got a job at the library and spent her days reading up on all sorts of amazing things - especially dragons. Now, at her Uncle's prompting, she is prepared to see if one awaits her.
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NAME/ALIAS FISH
EXPERIENCE Nearly 5 years
OTHER CHARACTER(S) none
HOW YOU FOUND US Proboards Ad
ROLEPLAYING EXAMPLE FROM YOU
Taken from a Warriors RP site:
Sootfall smiled at the newcomers, pleased that they had arrived in time. She watched with light concern as Rednettle painfully lowered himself to the poolside, then turned to face the pool. She lay her chin on her paws, just barely dipping her muzzle into the cool water, then closed her eyes and waited for the dream to over take her.
*****
She didn't have to wait long. A screech cut the air, jolting her from her sleep. Sootfall sat up slowly, taking in her surroundings. She was in a field, wide and gleaming in the light of the moon that gleamed in the sky. Sootfall eyed it warily. It seemed almost too large, as if it were trying to swallow up the sky. She stood, looking into a wind that rustled her fur. Where had the screech come from?
"...Nettlestripe?" Sootfall called, her voice reflecting not a hint of fear, only the usual musical notes, "Skunkpelt?" she then said, wondering if the other Starclan medicine cat that she knew was near. But no, she appeared alone.
Or was she? On the wind came the sound of mewing cats. Sootfall relaxed - they didn't sound panicked in the least. In fact, they sounded...sleepy. Sootfall padded toward them, a shushing sound dancing over the field as the tall grasses brushed one another. She overcame the crest of a hill. There, in front of her, was Shadowclan. Sootfall smiled. They were all, kits to elders, sound asleep, their sides gently heaving. Every once in awhile a cat would mew or kick out in dreaming. Perhaps one of them had been having a nightmare and squealed?
Then suddenly everything went dark. Sootfall took a step back, gazing at the sky. Something had blocked out the moon. And then there came that ungodly screech yet again. It prickled her fur and caused her heart to freeze in her chest. It was an owl, but an owl unlike any she had ever seen before. Pure white, it had a flat face, framed by heart shaped tan feathers. It's sharp beak was a cream color, and its yellow talons gleamed in the moonlight. It was a monster, ten times the size of any owl, and as Sootfall watched, it lunged and snatched up a cat in its talons. Sootfall yowled a warning, but the cats would not awake.
Sootfall found she could not move. All she could do was watch as cat after cat was hunted and taken off into the dark night. Moments later the owl would return again, only to pick a new victim. This continued until there was no one left but Sootfall, her chest heaving as her eyes were stretched in horror. The owl turned and came at her. It landed directly in front of her. Sootfall gazed into its black eyes and shivered - there was no soul in there.
Then the owl began to burn. Sootfall leaped back with a yelp, suddenly able to move again. The feathers of the owl curled, flames licking up its outstretched wings. Slowly it turned black, and then fell into a pile of ashes.
And from that pile, rats began to crawl.
****
Sootfall jerked awake, gasping. She was shivering roughly, hardly able to make it to her paws. Sootfall had never, never had a dream like that. And she dearly, futilely hoped, she never would again.
*****
She didn't have to wait long. A screech cut the air, jolting her from her sleep. Sootfall sat up slowly, taking in her surroundings. She was in a field, wide and gleaming in the light of the moon that gleamed in the sky. Sootfall eyed it warily. It seemed almost too large, as if it were trying to swallow up the sky. She stood, looking into a wind that rustled her fur. Where had the screech come from?
"...Nettlestripe?" Sootfall called, her voice reflecting not a hint of fear, only the usual musical notes, "Skunkpelt?" she then said, wondering if the other Starclan medicine cat that she knew was near. But no, she appeared alone.
Or was she? On the wind came the sound of mewing cats. Sootfall relaxed - they didn't sound panicked in the least. In fact, they sounded...sleepy. Sootfall padded toward them, a shushing sound dancing over the field as the tall grasses brushed one another. She overcame the crest of a hill. There, in front of her, was Shadowclan. Sootfall smiled. They were all, kits to elders, sound asleep, their sides gently heaving. Every once in awhile a cat would mew or kick out in dreaming. Perhaps one of them had been having a nightmare and squealed?
Then suddenly everything went dark. Sootfall took a step back, gazing at the sky. Something had blocked out the moon. And then there came that ungodly screech yet again. It prickled her fur and caused her heart to freeze in her chest. It was an owl, but an owl unlike any she had ever seen before. Pure white, it had a flat face, framed by heart shaped tan feathers. It's sharp beak was a cream color, and its yellow talons gleamed in the moonlight. It was a monster, ten times the size of any owl, and as Sootfall watched, it lunged and snatched up a cat in its talons. Sootfall yowled a warning, but the cats would not awake.
Sootfall found she could not move. All she could do was watch as cat after cat was hunted and taken off into the dark night. Moments later the owl would return again, only to pick a new victim. This continued until there was no one left but Sootfall, her chest heaving as her eyes were stretched in horror. The owl turned and came at her. It landed directly in front of her. Sootfall gazed into its black eyes and shivered - there was no soul in there.
Then the owl began to burn. Sootfall leaped back with a yelp, suddenly able to move again. The feathers of the owl curled, flames licking up its outstretched wings. Slowly it turned black, and then fell into a pile of ashes.
And from that pile, rats began to crawl.
****
Sootfall jerked awake, gasping. She was shivering roughly, hardly able to make it to her paws. Sootfall had never, never had a dream like that. And she dearly, futilely hoped, she never would again.
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