Post by Elliott Page on Jun 9, 2008 16:55:57 GMT -5
Name: Elliott Michael Page
Age: 17
Species: Warlock
Celeb: Zac Efron
Personality: Elliott is slightly disturbed and has some mental issues, due to his recent history. Although before his breakdown he was a sociable and an actively helpful do-gooder. He had been parctising witch-craft for a few years and it seemed to come unnaturally naturally to him, he was already beginning to learn some more advanced stuff from his mother when it happened. He was aware of the on going battle between good and evil, his mum was a white witch who fought demonic forces and she'd always taught him to be like her and this is shown through his usually non-pychotic way of living.
Occupation: Unemployed
History: Elliott had always been home schooled until the year before it happened. His mother was a working class dinner lady by day, but fought the forces of evil as the leader of a large coven, in the capital city of England, by night. With her highly skilled magical capability it was only natural that Elliott inherited some of it and due to this Elliott developed his skills from a very early age giving him and unfair and unatural headstart in comparison to most witches.
Elliott had lived with his mother in a block flats for all of his life and from a young age his mother had rejected the national cirriculum and taught him her own about the evil, the good, and the magic he would have to live with as the result of an inherited and inate calling to do so. However, even though Elliott accepted his responsibilities and liked the idea of kicking evils ass, he still wanted some independence and a life of his own.
About a week ago all hell broke loose in Elliott's home town London, he witnessed everything he knew die, including his mother. He frantically packed a bag containing his mother’s books and notes. He ran downstairs to his mothers scrying crystal, bag in hand, and began to ask all number of questions, suddenly a calm voice clearly and quite audibly said "You're needed in America".
He left to the airport, he was in no fit mental state, he was talking to himself, shaking, crying he seemed so lost. He boarded the last and final flight that was to leave England for some time. Gate 23, San Francisco. He shook with tears on the plane, surronded by a few fellow mourners, remembering the things that he had witnesed in the East End of London. Complete streets broken down that he had walked on nearly everyday of his life. Motionless bodies and faces that he recognized with disfiguring wounds and signs of impact that anwsered to many questions in his fragile mind. And finally the one thing that would stick with him for the rest of his life. When he had fled his school to get home, when he had walked through the broken down door of his and his mums flat, targeted because of her fighting on the side of good, he found her lying there. She was in the middle of the living room, dead, cut across the chest multiple times so that their was some sort of symbol ingraved in her skin.
As the plane landed and the door opened. Blood curdling sreams suggested that this was a universal disaster and that the scrying he had done previously was definatly right and that the very voice was that of his mothers. He knew that in San Fransisco he had an aunt but he didn't know where or who so finding her was going to be tricky, assuming that she herself was still alive.
Anything Else: Gay .
Codeword: [ADMIN EDIT]
RP Sample:
Elliott left the aeroplane, but America was no different to the bad old 'Blighty' he'd left, collecting his bags, a demon, viscous, appeared cutting people up a few conveyer belts along. He recognised the species immediately, he'd faced one before. "Hazar! he exclaimed. The beast turned its attention to Elliott. It seemed to recognise the word. It began to proceed at him like a rhino, stampeding, crushing all in its path including thick metal barriers. It was about 6 foot, grey and had spikes on its head going all down the spine; it was also muscular and looked none too pleased.
It was about 2 metres away and still going, “Avolo” Elliott raised his hands and sent the beast flying sideways into a metal post, but the beast got up again and Elliott began to talk to himself with a mad stare. This time the beast turned its attention to a little girl and her mother “mummy!” cried the little girl. Elliott turned to them and began to regain sanity. ”Mummy? Mum? Mummy! Exanimo!” he shot a bright light at the beast knocking it to the floor; Elliott’s nose began to bleed. People ran around wildly, and they were right to the beast would wake up soon. Elliott saw his bag and picked it up he placed it on a collection trolley and walked towards the exit as if nothing had happened.
Age: 17
Species: Warlock
Celeb: Zac Efron
Personality: Elliott is slightly disturbed and has some mental issues, due to his recent history. Although before his breakdown he was a sociable and an actively helpful do-gooder. He had been parctising witch-craft for a few years and it seemed to come unnaturally naturally to him, he was already beginning to learn some more advanced stuff from his mother when it happened. He was aware of the on going battle between good and evil, his mum was a white witch who fought demonic forces and she'd always taught him to be like her and this is shown through his usually non-pychotic way of living.
Occupation: Unemployed
History: Elliott had always been home schooled until the year before it happened. His mother was a working class dinner lady by day, but fought the forces of evil as the leader of a large coven, in the capital city of England, by night. With her highly skilled magical capability it was only natural that Elliott inherited some of it and due to this Elliott developed his skills from a very early age giving him and unfair and unatural headstart in comparison to most witches.
Elliott had lived with his mother in a block flats for all of his life and from a young age his mother had rejected the national cirriculum and taught him her own about the evil, the good, and the magic he would have to live with as the result of an inherited and inate calling to do so. However, even though Elliott accepted his responsibilities and liked the idea of kicking evils ass, he still wanted some independence and a life of his own.
About a week ago all hell broke loose in Elliott's home town London, he witnessed everything he knew die, including his mother. He frantically packed a bag containing his mother’s books and notes. He ran downstairs to his mothers scrying crystal, bag in hand, and began to ask all number of questions, suddenly a calm voice clearly and quite audibly said "You're needed in America".
He left to the airport, he was in no fit mental state, he was talking to himself, shaking, crying he seemed so lost. He boarded the last and final flight that was to leave England for some time. Gate 23, San Francisco. He shook with tears on the plane, surronded by a few fellow mourners, remembering the things that he had witnesed in the East End of London. Complete streets broken down that he had walked on nearly everyday of his life. Motionless bodies and faces that he recognized with disfiguring wounds and signs of impact that anwsered to many questions in his fragile mind. And finally the one thing that would stick with him for the rest of his life. When he had fled his school to get home, when he had walked through the broken down door of his and his mums flat, targeted because of her fighting on the side of good, he found her lying there. She was in the middle of the living room, dead, cut across the chest multiple times so that their was some sort of symbol ingraved in her skin.
As the plane landed and the door opened. Blood curdling sreams suggested that this was a universal disaster and that the scrying he had done previously was definatly right and that the very voice was that of his mothers. He knew that in San Fransisco he had an aunt but he didn't know where or who so finding her was going to be tricky, assuming that she herself was still alive.
Anything Else: Gay .
Codeword: [ADMIN EDIT]
RP Sample:
Elliott left the aeroplane, but America was no different to the bad old 'Blighty' he'd left, collecting his bags, a demon, viscous, appeared cutting people up a few conveyer belts along. He recognised the species immediately, he'd faced one before. "Hazar! he exclaimed. The beast turned its attention to Elliott. It seemed to recognise the word. It began to proceed at him like a rhino, stampeding, crushing all in its path including thick metal barriers. It was about 6 foot, grey and had spikes on its head going all down the spine; it was also muscular and looked none too pleased.
It was about 2 metres away and still going, “Avolo” Elliott raised his hands and sent the beast flying sideways into a metal post, but the beast got up again and Elliott began to talk to himself with a mad stare. This time the beast turned its attention to a little girl and her mother “mummy!” cried the little girl. Elliott turned to them and began to regain sanity. ”Mummy? Mum? Mummy! Exanimo!” he shot a bright light at the beast knocking it to the floor; Elliott’s nose began to bleed. People ran around wildly, and they were right to the beast would wake up soon. Elliott saw his bag and picked it up he placed it on a collection trolley and walked towards the exit as if nothing had happened.