Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2015 23:06:35 GMT -5
Full Name: Valentine Isabelle Haverland
Nickname/Alias: Val
Age/Date Of Birth: 21/ February 14th, 2021
Race:Human
Occupation: Spy
Species Group: Psychic/Hunter
Play-By: Jessica De Gouw
Abilities
Negative Energy Magnifier - So basically so long as she's touching someone she can magnify/draw out/amplify any negative feelings someone is having. These feelings include anything from feeling something particularly evil and bad to feeling rage-filled and violent. She's super perceptive to anger as well, being able to sense when someone is angry inside, when they just walk by her.
Pyrokinesis - Will be worked out through RP.
Special Inventory
Special items that are bought from the store will go here.
Likes (At Least 3):
❤ Reading - She can lose herself in a good book
❤ Feeling in control - She doesn't like feeling like things are slipping away from her or out of her control
❤ Apples/applejuice/applesauce/anything apple - A taste she's inherited from her father
❤ Old music - Johnny Cash, Bob Marley, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, she loves old
❤ Her speed bike
Dislikes (At Least 3):
✗ Cats - They're sketchy and unpredictable
✗ Hunters - The type that kill deer and wolves for sport, because that is just cruel
✗ Losing money - Does this need to be explained?
✗ Sunburns - Uhm, who likes those?
✗ Rage - She's seen what rage can do and how it feels and it's nothing pretty.
✗ Losing in general - She's pretty competitive
Fears (At Least 2):
☬ Claustrophobic - She hates small, cramped spaces. Especially if they're dark.
☬ Her cover being blown and everyone finding out she's a spy.
Goals (At Least 1):
★ To help Cyrus
Personality: Valentine is a wolf disguised in sheep's clothes.
She doesn't have one set personality, no exact guideline that states how she'll act in any given situation. She's manipulative, deceitful, and compelling. No one is born manipulative, it's a survival strategy. When she met Cyrus, the two bonded quickly and closely. He was and is the only family she has left, and there is little she wouldn't do to please him.
When Valentine was younger she was dauntless, fearless, and spirited; the type of girl that enjoyed a good fight. Daring, intimidating, illuminating, she was always a little different. Having a tireless amount of energy is something that she's kept with her throughout her childhood and adulthood. She was born driven, always wanting to fly higher and further away from the nest.
As Val grew up a lot, a lot changed. While she continues to be her fiery tempered, sharp tongued self, she's also become a master of self control. People come off as dicks and jerks because they don't know when to shut their mouths and relax, but Val knows when to be obedient. Loyalty is really important to her, but so is being kind. Which may seem hypocritical because she got the New York group of hunters killed, but it is true. And while she feels immensely guilty about unjustly having innocent people hurt; it was done for Cyrus. She chose to give him their location because it would make him appreciative of her, and that provided her with a false sense of control. Manipulative people are always yearning for control. It also gave Val and Cyrus something to bond over; their secret.
Valentine is not a bad person. She cares for her friends, even if they don't know her darkest secrets. Val has a pretty good group mentality and wants to give everyone a chance until they prove that they're dicks or whatever. She'd readily die for them. She's an extrovert and tries to include everyone in whatever she's doing, especially the shy people. There are parts of her that are dark, but the majority of her is a lighthearted, quick-witted woman. And so she may have problems opening up completely and minor trust issues, but there's nothing that would stop her from comforting a crying child or person, or helping an animal out of a trap or something.
She's not above using her body and looks to get what she needs. Val is scared of being discovered as a spy among the group, and scared of losing Cyrus, and scared of feeling lost again, like she did after Elena died. She doesn't want to hurt anyone intentionally. There's quite a bit of conflict within her.
Traits
✧ Authentic
✧ Disciplined
✧ Compelling
Negatives (At Least 3):
✦ Impetuous
✦ Manipulative
✦ Cold
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Parents: Elena Haverland and Tyson Grant
Siblings: Cyrus - Half brother
Other Family: N/A
Important Others: N/A
History: Valentine was born on Valentines Day, big surprise there. For some reason the hospital thought it'd be a good idea to allow an overly-emotional woman name her daughter after the date of her birth. Though, Val never really had any trouble with it. Kids usually only picked on her or thought her name was funny when they learned her birthday. Adults seemed to think it was cute. While her father, Tyson, was never in the picture, Val didn't mind. When she was older, Elena explained that it was just sex between Tyson and herself. It was something they'd both needed at the time and she didn't regret it because she got Valentine out of it. Her mother was also sure to always tell Val about what a great man Tyson was.
When she was 6 years old, in first grade, she and some boy got into an argument over the tire swing. He insisted it was his turn and she just wasn't having it. She'd kept swinging around in circles, happily, and meanwhile the boy was just getting more and more annoyed. Though she could sense it, practically feel the anger pulsing through him, she didn't care. Probably a bit prodded, the boy reached out and attempted to grab the rope on the tire swing and he ended up grabbing her arm and shit popped off. Suddenly Val was mad, filled with rage, but it wasn't her own. It was like someone had poured fire into her veins, she was practically seeing red, and before she had a chance to pull away the boy punched her in the face; hard. She fell back and he ran off, and it was then that she knew for a fact she was not like the other kids.
Elena told Valentine about Tyson being a psychic, about how he was so powerful, and half of him made up Val so she was powerful too. She tried to console her daughter, but Val was beyond freaked out. She didn't want to be touched. She didn't want to be looked at. Sitting with the other students in class was horrible. She felt like they were looking at her, like they were mad at her, and they'd get worse if she talked to them. The fear led to panic attacks and claustrophobia, which led Elena to pull Val out of public school and home school her. So 1st-12th grade Val learned everything she needed to know from Elena. Including some not so traditional studies like archery and bow hunting, and of course, how to pick locks.
Elena died in a freak hunting accident when Val was 18. Two experienced hunters had gone out for target practice, testing out a new type of arrow, and Elena'd gotten shot in the chest. She bled out before anyone had time to call an ambulance. She was dead before Valentine had a chance to say goodbye. Needless to say, it really took a toll on Val.
When Cyrus Bradford showed up on her doorstep one day, showing her all this evidence about their father, explaining to her how he was created, and that they were siblings; she clung to every word he said. She had a family again. The two grew close quickly, almost immediately. They bonded. They were their own little family. When Cyrus asked her to infiltrate the New York group of hunters and report their location back to him, she did, knowing full well that it wasn't the right thing to do. But Cyrus was her brother, and she loved him. And no matter what he does or says or wants her to do, she will love him. The group of hunters ended up getting killed, thanks to her you could say. She was 19 when she met Cyrus, 20 when the people died.
Now she's 21 and a spy in the latest group of hunters trying to stop the end of the world and fix things. She tells Cyrus what goes on. And now, on February 14th, 2042, her 22nd birthday, she opens her eyes and she's in a cave with other members of the group, not knowing what's going on or how they got here, or if Cyrus is close by. Or if he's alright.
Welcome to 2014.
Alias:Sofie
How did you find us?: Old site
Experience: A long periolodically time
Other Characters: @allocer @asmodeus
RP Sample:
Some nights were impossible, and this was one of them. Remy was tired, and annoyed at nearly everyone that entered the club. It seemed like every little girl was up here trying to get the boys at the bar to give her a free drink and the men were no better. They swaggered up to the bar like they were the toughest boys on the block and started calling her ‘baby’ and ‘honey’, like they had a chance at getting it in with her. Not all of them were ugly, or entirely unattractive, but she preferred her men to be a little more composed. Remy was working a double shift because some asshole couldn’t be bothered to show up to his shift, and that just added to her anger. Who did that? A person that ditched work deserved to be fired, and Remy seriously hoped he did. She hated wishing bad things on other people, but wouldn’t be terribly upset if the guy got fired. This wasn’t some child’s play job, and despite the looks she received when she told people that she was a bartender, you had to know your shit. There were hundreds of varieties of drinks to have to memorize, and the more drinks you made the better you became at it. The more you knew the drink, the faster you could mix it up, and that led to a larger tip. No one wants to wait for their drinks.
All those little flips you could do with the bottle, those came with due time. Remy could do about half as many tricks as everyone else, and that caused her to feel nothing short of utter humiliation. She had a need to be better, a need to be the best. And a realization that her bottle flipping skills couldn’t compare to those of the more experienced, older bartenders. The basic flips and easy little spins on her heels she had down, but ask her to do anything else and there’d be shattered glass all over the floor. Remy hated it, and the envy she felt when people clapped and cheered for the other bartenders was at an all time high tonight. Stupid Davis was showing off for some brunette with legs ten miles long and a tan so dark that you could practically smell the tanning lotion coming off.
Rolling her eyes, Remy poured a couple shots of tequila for a lady and then went back to wiping down the counter and making sure all the bottles were clean and full. This was the boring part of her job, wiping down bottle after bottle. Couldn’t have a single sticky one, or a half empty one, or anything that looked messy and in disarray. So she wiped and straightened and poured drinks and kept looking at the clock every five seconds, wanting her shift to be over already. Remy yawned and looked over at Jeremy, he was still flipping bottles. She furrowed her eyebrows and scrubbed the counter a little harder. Just as she was about to yawn again, like they’d sensed that she was bored and on cue started up, two obviously drunk guys started yelling at each other. That really wasn’t anything new, yelled and fought around here all the time. You called over the bouncer, or security, and that was that. But this time was different, much to her entertainment. These guys were big, drunk, loud, and they’d started to throw punches. So a couple random people tried to step in and be heroes, and they ended up getting sucked into the fight too.
Oh man, was this good. But she had to step in, now it was getting serious. There were multiple security guards rushing around, trying to pry the fighting people apart. She could hear their panicked voices on their walkie-talkies, and that was enough for her to understand that this was big. There usually weren’t massive fights like this, at least not that she’d seen. But she’d only been there a couple of months, so maybe this was a common thing. Either way, Remy stepped in. Not that it was really her place, but she didn’t want anyone to actually get kill tonight. Moving quickly around the counter, she pushed her way through the thick crowd and grabbed the back of some guy’s shirt. Yanking him back roughly, the man whirled around, slapping her arms away. He looked like he was about to hit her, and she braced herself for it. But he didn’t, and instead just stormed off, shoving his way through the mass of people.
Adrenaline pumping through her veins, heart thudding loudly in her chest, Remy moved in on another guy. This guy was actually bleeding, all over. Blood ran down out of his nose, over his lips, onto his shirt, and onto the ground. Remy grabbed him by the arm, and at first he pulled away. But she tugged him on until he followed her over to the bar and sat on one of the stools. Remy leaned over and grabbed a few paper towels, then handed them to the guy. He didn’t need to be bleeding all over everyone over there, it was gross and messy and not okay. The guy tried saying something, but he was way too drunk for it to actually make any sense. Remy just pushed more paper towels towards him and tried to keep an eye on the fight still happening. While security had managed to clear up a huge chunk of the fighting people, some die-hard fighters were still going at it.
Behind her a man started yelling, but she didn’t think anything of it until she was sandwiched between two screaming men. What were they yelling about? Remy didn’t have the slightest clue. All she knew was that the bleeding guy was standing up, tossing the paper towels to the side and grabbing for the other man. That was it. Remy put both her arms out, shoving them both apart as much as she could. But she wasn’t anything special, and the men easily pushed right back. If there was something she hated above all other things, it was getting pushed around. In a furious moment, Remy turned and shoved the bloody-nose guy down onto the stool. “Just sit down!” She yelled, her voice holding enough of a demanding tone that he listened. Spinning around to the other man she pushed him back with both hands this time, so it sent him reeling backwards. Remy almost ordered him to leave, but she couldn’t think of any clever way to put it. People in movies always had the coolest catch phrases, yet she couldn’t think of a single one. Security stepped in before she really had a chance to say anything, and led both men out.
Remy bit her lip, watching the crowd slowly disperse. So she’d wanted exciting, but maybe next time she’d try for a little less exciting.
All those little flips you could do with the bottle, those came with due time. Remy could do about half as many tricks as everyone else, and that caused her to feel nothing short of utter humiliation. She had a need to be better, a need to be the best. And a realization that her bottle flipping skills couldn’t compare to those of the more experienced, older bartenders. The basic flips and easy little spins on her heels she had down, but ask her to do anything else and there’d be shattered glass all over the floor. Remy hated it, and the envy she felt when people clapped and cheered for the other bartenders was at an all time high tonight. Stupid Davis was showing off for some brunette with legs ten miles long and a tan so dark that you could practically smell the tanning lotion coming off.
Rolling her eyes, Remy poured a couple shots of tequila for a lady and then went back to wiping down the counter and making sure all the bottles were clean and full. This was the boring part of her job, wiping down bottle after bottle. Couldn’t have a single sticky one, or a half empty one, or anything that looked messy and in disarray. So she wiped and straightened and poured drinks and kept looking at the clock every five seconds, wanting her shift to be over already. Remy yawned and looked over at Jeremy, he was still flipping bottles. She furrowed her eyebrows and scrubbed the counter a little harder. Just as she was about to yawn again, like they’d sensed that she was bored and on cue started up, two obviously drunk guys started yelling at each other. That really wasn’t anything new, yelled and fought around here all the time. You called over the bouncer, or security, and that was that. But this time was different, much to her entertainment. These guys were big, drunk, loud, and they’d started to throw punches. So a couple random people tried to step in and be heroes, and they ended up getting sucked into the fight too.
Oh man, was this good. But she had to step in, now it was getting serious. There were multiple security guards rushing around, trying to pry the fighting people apart. She could hear their panicked voices on their walkie-talkies, and that was enough for her to understand that this was big. There usually weren’t massive fights like this, at least not that she’d seen. But she’d only been there a couple of months, so maybe this was a common thing. Either way, Remy stepped in. Not that it was really her place, but she didn’t want anyone to actually get kill tonight. Moving quickly around the counter, she pushed her way through the thick crowd and grabbed the back of some guy’s shirt. Yanking him back roughly, the man whirled around, slapping her arms away. He looked like he was about to hit her, and she braced herself for it. But he didn’t, and instead just stormed off, shoving his way through the mass of people.
Adrenaline pumping through her veins, heart thudding loudly in her chest, Remy moved in on another guy. This guy was actually bleeding, all over. Blood ran down out of his nose, over his lips, onto his shirt, and onto the ground. Remy grabbed him by the arm, and at first he pulled away. But she tugged him on until he followed her over to the bar and sat on one of the stools. Remy leaned over and grabbed a few paper towels, then handed them to the guy. He didn’t need to be bleeding all over everyone over there, it was gross and messy and not okay. The guy tried saying something, but he was way too drunk for it to actually make any sense. Remy just pushed more paper towels towards him and tried to keep an eye on the fight still happening. While security had managed to clear up a huge chunk of the fighting people, some die-hard fighters were still going at it.
Behind her a man started yelling, but she didn’t think anything of it until she was sandwiched between two screaming men. What were they yelling about? Remy didn’t have the slightest clue. All she knew was that the bleeding guy was standing up, tossing the paper towels to the side and grabbing for the other man. That was it. Remy put both her arms out, shoving them both apart as much as she could. But she wasn’t anything special, and the men easily pushed right back. If there was something she hated above all other things, it was getting pushed around. In a furious moment, Remy turned and shoved the bloody-nose guy down onto the stool. “Just sit down!” She yelled, her voice holding enough of a demanding tone that he listened. Spinning around to the other man she pushed him back with both hands this time, so it sent him reeling backwards. Remy almost ordered him to leave, but she couldn’t think of any clever way to put it. People in movies always had the coolest catch phrases, yet she couldn’t think of a single one. Security stepped in before she really had a chance to say anything, and led both men out.
Remy bit her lip, watching the crowd slowly disperse. So she’d wanted exciting, but maybe next time she’d try for a little less exciting.
I (@valentine) have read the site rules and understand them. The code word for the rules is: (batmam)
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Application Created By Hell Hound
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