Post by Pure on Apr 30, 2014 22:09:53 GMT
Character Name: Lore Cross
Nickname(s):
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bi
Height/Weight: 100lbs - 5ft 1inch
Hair Color: White blonde
Description: Long pale pink hair cascades down petite shoulders and touches just above her waist where it lays strait against her back. Long bangs grace either side of her big pale blue eyes when she wears it up which is not often. Matching her pink hair is the porcelain of her skin which is so pale sometimes her red and purple veins can be seen through her flesh; Lore burns very easily and then turns strait back to pale. With a soft dusting of golden freckled along her cheeks and the bridge of her nose her Irish heritage is born to truth which she gets from her mothers side.
Often found is her wearing a pale blue or Ivory summer dress that hangs from her small frame in a complimentary yet reserved way. She tends to like sandals or short ankle length boots that match her feminine appeal along with seashell necklace and earrings.
Discipline: Western
Likes: Red, Western, Quarter Horses
Dislikes: Pink, Prissy riders, Arabians
Personality: Lore can be a very quite person and keep to herself, she tends to sit back and watch rather than be right in your face. She smiles easily but a laugh is a bit harder to get out of her. Patient Lore is willing to just sit and listen to someone and when asked a question she replies honestly.
Though she hides behind her open minded outlook on life when faced with guys she seems to be utterly lost, not to say she stutters around them but she treats a male trying to pick her up with complete oblivion. Without a doubt horses are her one true passion even above Photography, she loves being with or even just near.
History: Lores father left when she was still young and perhaps that was the reason she took to Horses so easily; trying to fill the void within her by befriending any Equine that came her way. Her mother was a gentle woman but was not very touchy, it was rare for her to hug her daughter never mind praise. Lore found herself more often then not wandering the woods and seeing the world in all it's natural beauty.
For her 12th birthday Lore was presented with a camera which would become an outlet and form into a passion like no other. Every day she took dozens of pictures and even if there was just a single piece of grass in the image she would still claim it spoke more than a thousand words. At the age of 19 Lore wanted more with her life, she was through high school but college was not her thing.
So she decided to strike out on her own with the money she'd made on the side with photography. Over the last Three years she'd made a name for herself training horses in any discipline, though English was not exactly her favorite. It was time to obtain her own stock and even a farm.
Rp Sample: When Maverik walked into a room it was as if his ego entered before his body did or at least that's what he would like to think. There was a fine smirk upon his features as he paused just within the confines of the Library, and while he stood there all six foot three inches of his manly mass he could barely keep the urge to set this place afire. Stacks upon stacks of books lined each wall, while some columns made hallways of papper backs. Maverik could litterally feel his hands itch with the need to burn everything to ashes, or nothing for that matter. The flames that he could produce at will were not the average kind, those flames that flickered from a lighter or candle or even a fire place couldn't even remotly compete with the white fire he eminated. Some people thought that blue fire was the hottest but Maverik would disagree and prove his point quite clearly for you. White flames were so hot that it left nothing in it's wake, not even embers or ashes.
That's how he'd made his money for the majority of his life, making things disapear, from something as big as a ware house to something as small as a childs body. Sure he'd done some pretty horrible things, all in the name of money, for he wouldn't do something for free. But in all reality he simply did what he had to do to survive. Maverik had some base rules, such as he never killed someone himself, he would never set a building on fire that had living humans inside and he didn't hire himself out to those he had a bad feeling about. The whole 'bad feeling' thing was a different story within itself that he didn't really feel like getting into currently.
Shaking off the urge to insinerate the Library Maverik slunked furthing into the room, by passing the tables and front desk for one of the many isle ways. In all truth there was bad lighting in the Library, though that didn't surprise Maverik, not when this dump belonged to the Prison.
Yea he'd gotten himself caught on the last job, some bitch of a detective had been on his case for three years, like a hound hunting a fox. It simply proved that if you slack off once in his line of work that was it. He'd gotten cocky, it had taken him a while to admit this, but in all reality the fact that he was now shackled to this place was his own damn fault.
Quite an unrefined snort left his nasal as he passed a stack of romantic books, the back bindings overly worn. Then again how else were you supposed to get your goodies off here other than when you dropped the soap? Maverik had nothing against men, in fact he enjoyed their hard flesh eopenly, but he was not a bottom, as a lot of men seemed to be toppers he had a feeling he'd be visiting this rack sometime soon.
Nickname(s):
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bi
Height/Weight: 100lbs - 5ft 1inch
Hair Color: White blonde
Description: Long pale pink hair cascades down petite shoulders and touches just above her waist where it lays strait against her back. Long bangs grace either side of her big pale blue eyes when she wears it up which is not often. Matching her pink hair is the porcelain of her skin which is so pale sometimes her red and purple veins can be seen through her flesh; Lore burns very easily and then turns strait back to pale. With a soft dusting of golden freckled along her cheeks and the bridge of her nose her Irish heritage is born to truth which she gets from her mothers side.
Often found is her wearing a pale blue or Ivory summer dress that hangs from her small frame in a complimentary yet reserved way. She tends to like sandals or short ankle length boots that match her feminine appeal along with seashell necklace and earrings.
Discipline: Western
Likes: Red, Western, Quarter Horses
Dislikes: Pink, Prissy riders, Arabians
Personality: Lore can be a very quite person and keep to herself, she tends to sit back and watch rather than be right in your face. She smiles easily but a laugh is a bit harder to get out of her. Patient Lore is willing to just sit and listen to someone and when asked a question she replies honestly.
Though she hides behind her open minded outlook on life when faced with guys she seems to be utterly lost, not to say she stutters around them but she treats a male trying to pick her up with complete oblivion. Without a doubt horses are her one true passion even above Photography, she loves being with or even just near.
History: Lores father left when she was still young and perhaps that was the reason she took to Horses so easily; trying to fill the void within her by befriending any Equine that came her way. Her mother was a gentle woman but was not very touchy, it was rare for her to hug her daughter never mind praise. Lore found herself more often then not wandering the woods and seeing the world in all it's natural beauty.
For her 12th birthday Lore was presented with a camera which would become an outlet and form into a passion like no other. Every day she took dozens of pictures and even if there was just a single piece of grass in the image she would still claim it spoke more than a thousand words. At the age of 19 Lore wanted more with her life, she was through high school but college was not her thing.
So she decided to strike out on her own with the money she'd made on the side with photography. Over the last Three years she'd made a name for herself training horses in any discipline, though English was not exactly her favorite. It was time to obtain her own stock and even a farm.
Rp Sample: When Maverik walked into a room it was as if his ego entered before his body did or at least that's what he would like to think. There was a fine smirk upon his features as he paused just within the confines of the Library, and while he stood there all six foot three inches of his manly mass he could barely keep the urge to set this place afire. Stacks upon stacks of books lined each wall, while some columns made hallways of papper backs. Maverik could litterally feel his hands itch with the need to burn everything to ashes, or nothing for that matter. The flames that he could produce at will were not the average kind, those flames that flickered from a lighter or candle or even a fire place couldn't even remotly compete with the white fire he eminated. Some people thought that blue fire was the hottest but Maverik would disagree and prove his point quite clearly for you. White flames were so hot that it left nothing in it's wake, not even embers or ashes.
That's how he'd made his money for the majority of his life, making things disapear, from something as big as a ware house to something as small as a childs body. Sure he'd done some pretty horrible things, all in the name of money, for he wouldn't do something for free. But in all reality he simply did what he had to do to survive. Maverik had some base rules, such as he never killed someone himself, he would never set a building on fire that had living humans inside and he didn't hire himself out to those he had a bad feeling about. The whole 'bad feeling' thing was a different story within itself that he didn't really feel like getting into currently.
Shaking off the urge to insinerate the Library Maverik slunked furthing into the room, by passing the tables and front desk for one of the many isle ways. In all truth there was bad lighting in the Library, though that didn't surprise Maverik, not when this dump belonged to the Prison.
Yea he'd gotten himself caught on the last job, some bitch of a detective had been on his case for three years, like a hound hunting a fox. It simply proved that if you slack off once in his line of work that was it. He'd gotten cocky, it had taken him a while to admit this, but in all reality the fact that he was now shackled to this place was his own damn fault.
Quite an unrefined snort left his nasal as he passed a stack of romantic books, the back bindings overly worn. Then again how else were you supposed to get your goodies off here other than when you dropped the soap? Maverik had nothing against men, in fact he enjoyed their hard flesh eopenly, but he was not a bottom, as a lot of men seemed to be toppers he had a feeling he'd be visiting this rack sometime soon.
