Post by Beklea Baudry on Oct 18, 2011 3:46:31 GMT -5
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playby[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Art is copy-write to Werdandi on
DeviantArt[/center][/size][/color]theme song[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Fly
by Hillary Duff[/center][/size]description:;[/b][/size]
Beklea
She stands a short height of five foot three; compared to most others, she is very small, especially men. Her attitude makes up for her height, which can sometimes be an overwhelming dose of sarcasm, playfulness, or even anger. One single word to describe her could be eccentric; or even bipolar. She could easily hop from one emotion to the next.
Her caramel colored hair falls down in waves, stopping short at shoulder length. She usually has her hair pulled up into a small ponytail, but it's also not uncommon to see her with her hair loose and framing her face. Her hair style is mostly for convenience purposes, so that her auburn tresses do not obscure her visage; a visage that brandishes two mossy green colored eyes.
Her skin is lightly tanned and smooth; in most areas. She is not unblemished, and underneath her clothing are a wide variety of scars. Most of them are around her torso, though three can be seen while she is clothed. A large line of toughened tissue runs along the bridge of her nose; this is the most obvious of imperfections. The other is near her left wrist on the top side of her forearm. The other is along her collar bone, which can only be seen if her clothes allow it. These scars, which were most likely painful when dealt, bring only now the subtle burn of insecurity and hate; though, she would never admit her shyness or inner demons. Her pride is far too potent.
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name:;[/b][/size]
Baudry, Beklea Shaye
[/color][/center]age[/color]:;[/b][/size]
sweet 27
gender[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Female
race[/color]:;[/b][/size]
born a, draconian
should we put bricks on your head?[/color]:;[/b][/size]
BEKLEA is, 5 foot 3 inches tall.
no place like home[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Oradea, Romania
getting lucky with ~someone~[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Heterosexual
babies coming?[/color]:;[/b][/size]
N
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I don't need powers, I have a damn dragon!
weapon(s)[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Short sword. (Old-fashioned, I know!)
whatcha~wearin?[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Beklea usually wears thick, comfortable clothing. She is always wearing her favorite pair of brown, leather boots. Apart from wearing clothing that is deemed normal by society, she has her riding gear. A set of clothing that provides comfort while riding a dragon, and necessity; that particular outfit can be seen above in the picture.
transportation[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Oh yeah? You have a Ferrari? Well, guess what? I have a fucking dragon!
anything.else.you'd.like.to.share?[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Beklea always has an thin band of rope tied around her left ankle.
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disposition to the law[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Lawful
alignment[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Lawful/Neutral
likes[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Animals
,Adventure
,Heights
,Sugar
,Playing
dislikes[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Loud noises
,Idling
,Bugs
phobias[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Death
obsessions[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Art
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background[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Beklea grew up as an only child. Her parents, also Draconians, had taught her to keep her heritage a secret at a young age. She was forbidden to speak of her family heritage to any outsider, and she kept to this rule for a long, long time. However, when she was twelve, she made the biggest mistake of her life.
A man, around the age of forty, had been telling stories in a local tavern; he spun tales about demons and goblins and ghouls. Not one believed him; how could they? The existence of those creatures had to be nothing but blasphemy.
Beklea was young; naive. She believed that, since he knew of the existence of such monsters, then he truly wasn't an outsider. Her family was out of town, and required a room for the night, so, while her father was talking to a man behind a desk she padded over to have a talk with the man.
She assured that man that he was right. Those monsters did exist. After he inquired how she knew this, she happily pipped up, "Because I've seen 'em! Mostly dragons; I can talk to them, y'know." And that's what peeked the man's interest. Little did Beklea know, that this man didn't care that she was a young child. He was the hunter and Beklea, being a supernatural being, was his prey. It was all too easy.
He had persuaded her to come outside with him, with only god knows what incentive; perhaps to listen to a more detailed description about these dragons. Either way, Beklea had followed obediently, happy to have found another person to share this information with. What she didn't know was that, when he had guided her out to the back of the building, he would brandish a knife and quickly slice it at the closest thing. She didn't know that he would begin to cut her and slice at her flesh. She didn't know that, after she was left weeping in pain on the ground, he would mumble about silver being ineffective.
The events that occurred after were a blur. She faintly remembers a scream in the distance, sounding vaguely like her mother; a glutteral cry of fear that sounded so much like her father; and the muffled thumps and metallic clangs of a skirmish. The sirens came next and the hushed whispers in her ear that everything would be okay. She was moved, laid down, and then she had finally succumbed to darkness.
When she awoke, it was in a hospital bed. Her wounds, over the span of a few months, finally healed; but the angry marks and scars remained. It was explained to her that there were some people out there that hated what she was and were very dangerous. At first it scared her, but as she grew older she developed a seething hate for the Hunter that had marked her body and had tried to take her life; and every other Hunter that existed.
Besides the scars and her newly befriended dragon, she was a relatively normal girl. She graduated from high school, but did not seek any additional education beyond that. She enjoyed living in the moment, and was relatively content with her small waitressing job. She lived with her parents, because she didn't feel the need to leave.
When she turned 23, both of her parents had perished in a car accident. The road was slippery and wet and their car had spun out of control when they came up onto a sharp turn. Beklea inherited everything, and chose to sell the home she had grown up in. It was painful to stay there when her parents departure was so fresh. The sale, along with her parents and her own savings, she had enough money to go off and do whatever she wanted.
She took up traveling and with her uncommon ally -- at least to any other bystander -- going from place was a snap. Brutus would take her to a desired place, leave for a few days to do dragon things, and give her enough time to explore and see the sights. He would return and then the both of them would move onto the next stop. Sometimes they would stay longer than usual, even months at a time, but they would eventually leave after a while.
Still, to this day, Beklea has refused to settle down in one place. Perhaps is stubbornness or maybe fear, but either way, she's not ready to stay in any area for too long.
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description:;[/b][/size]
Brutus
A large, light brown, hulking mass of scales and muscle. Brutus, the dragon, possesses the affinity of fire. He is fairly small for a dragon, much like his human companion, but there are most likely others that are even smaller than he.
Two golden eyes peer out from narrow slits, framed by toughened hide and scale. Sharp, giant incisors peek out from between thick, reptilian lips. On his back, along with a few precarious spikes along the ridge of his spine, lay two giant, folded wings. Horns also protrude the beast's skull, providing no reassurance of safety when seen by others.
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name:;[/b][/size]
, Brutus
[/color][/center]age[/color]:;[/b][/size]
sweet 83
gender[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Male
race[/color]:;[/b][/size]
born a, dragon
should we put bricks on your head?[/color]:;[/b][/size]
BRUTUS is, 10 feet tall and 29 feet long with a wingspan of 34 feet.
no place like home[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Europe
getting lucky with ~someone~[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Heterosexual
babies coming?[/color]:;[/b][/size]
N
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Fire - Breathes Fire
Flight/Wings
Illusion
Level 2: Scene - The ability to make others see entire settings that are not real as long as the user can maintain a visual on the target.
disposition to the law[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Neutral
alignment[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Neutral
likes[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Heat
,Mountains
,Quiet
,Day
,Food
dislikes[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Water
,Humans
,Cities
,Cold
phobias[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Claustrophobia
obsessions[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Cleanliness
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background[/color]:;[/b][/size]
Brutus was not raised by his parents. In fact, he had never even met them. The day he was born he slowly broke his way out of the egg he had developed in, and then slowly, wearily, stumbled into his world; and just like his reptilian cousins, was left to fend for himself.
Like all of his kin before him, living was instinctual. It came to him as easily as breathing did. Eat, sleep, and live; but most importantly, stay hidden. A life of a dragon is not an easy one. They are constantly on the look out for unwanted eyes. A careless dragon is a dead dragon, especially when it comes to humans.
Not all dragons meet a companion, but Brutus did. Draconians are not humans; they are an welcomed exception. They provide company and companionship to those that want it. Brutus, not hostile or bloodthirsty like some, befriended the Beklea the Draconian when she was only a little girl at the age of thirteen. He has watched over her like a father or big brother for many years, and although he is not always there 24/7, they are both a very important part in each other's life.
His name was given to him by Beklea, since he had none to begin with; dragon's have no need for such silly things.
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