Post by hossluver on Feb 13, 2011 12:39:00 GMT -5
[AVA] STANDS AT THE TOP OF THE STAIRS
[/color][/font]AS SHE'S LEAVING HER FATHER STARES
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. I also play none yet[/color][/font][/ul]
WHAT HAS SHE COME TO?
[/color]ANOTHER BOY SHE RUNS TO TONIGHT[/font][/center]
NICKNAMES: Ava
GENDER: girl
AGE:21
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual
CANON OR ORIGINAL: original[/color][/font]
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POWERLESS HE JUST SHAKES HIS HEAD
[/color]HE'S DISAPPOINTED AND OFF TO BED[/font][/center]
HAIR: dark brown, about shoulder length
EYES: brown
HEIGHT & WEIGHT: She weighs about 125, and is about 5'8"
Physical description: - She is fairly tall with dark brown hair, which is about shoulder length and usually wavy but she'll straighten it from time to time. She is fair skinned, but not super pale, and weighs around 120-25 lbs. Tall and skinny, as she is about 5'8". She can look a little scruffy at times, because that is just the way she is. It's not that she doesn't take care of herself, her appearance can just be gangling sometimes. If she puts a lot of effort into it, she looks quite pretty.
You will usually spot her wearing a tee shirt, as she likes the cold so even when it's cool out she'll just wear jeans and a tee shirt. There will often be dust on her, as she spends lots of time in the barn, which makes her look even more scruffy. Her eyes are brown, on the darker side. She has an athletic build because she is also a runner and biker, aside from riding horses. That being said, she is strong despite her gangling appearance from time to time. She has little feet and hands, and is quite a fast runner.
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:Her general, cheerful, chatty attitude and an odd scar on her left wrist.[/color][/font]
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BUT HE WON"T BE SLEEPING
[/color]BECAUSE THE HOURS SHE'S KEEPING ARE NOT RIGHT[/font][/center]
DISLIKES: Arabians, drama, people that think they're cool but they're not, country music, Arabians, volleyball, rap music, Arabians....
STRENGTHS: riding, writing, running, social
WEAKNESSES: irritable at times, sleep, swearing
HABITS/QUIRKS: she has a nasty habit of staying up till one in the morning, waking up at six, and bumping into walls all morning. She also jumps when the telephone rings, especially if it's quiet.
OVERALL PERSONALITY: She loves people. She is a social bug, and though she does enjoy being on her own from time to time, she prefers to be with a group of people, or at least one other person. When she is riding, she prefers to be on her own, but if it's easy work or a trail ride, she loves company. She will be anybody's friend, which is one really beautiful thing about her, as she strives to see the good in everybody, even if they end up driving her crazy in the end. Sometimes, she talks too much. Of course, perfectly reasonable for a social butterfly.
If she is not doing something important (school, show, feeding etc.) then you will not catch her out of bed before nine in the morning. If you wake her up, woe be to you. She is perfectly evil in the mornings. She doesn't drink coffee very often, as it gives her a headache if she drinks too much, so until she's eaten and the sleep is out of her eyes, stay away for your own safety. She might swear at you, or yell, but mostly she will just leap down your throat if you say anything that could be a joke, or possibly rude, or whatever it is that irritates her. However, her bad nature is not always in the morning. If you ask her why she jumps at the telephone, she'll most likely call you a bad name and tell you to f**** off. She can be a little touchy, and unreasonable at times, but she will always try and make it up to you after she's stopped breathing fire. On the contrary though, she generally is pretty even natured, she is just touchy on a few subjects, and is awful in the morning.
If you become more than just somebody she likes, that is, a true, close friend to her, she will be loyal, and honest to you. She will care about you every moment, and is a person you can tell a secret too. If a situation arose, though unlikely, and if you were her very very best friend ever, she may even risk her life for you. She is a strong willed character, and will not submit to peer pressure. She will stick up for you if people are ratting on you, and will snarl at people talking behind your back. She tries not to gossip, but we all know that that is impossible. No drugs or alcohol, except for the occasional beer or wine with dinner. She's old enough now, so she can do that.[/color][/font]
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SHE'S ASKING A QUESTION HOW WILL I BE
[/color]WHEN THIS NEXT ONE EVENTUALLY LEAVES ME?[/font][/center]
SIBLINGS:
-Mother: Ellen Kenneth-accountant
-Father: Ruebin Kenneth-eventer, hunter trainer
OTHER FAMILY:
-Brother: William Kenneth-16-track runner
-Brother: Evan Kenneth-eventer-(deceased)
-Aunt: Beatrice Malen-race horse owner, bought Ava's horse
PETS: Kip, aussie/border collie mix, stocky, black and white long haired, docked tail
OVERALL HISTORY: - Ava was born in the good old Northwest, in Seattle, Washington. Her father trained eventing horses, and hunters and jumpers. Ava loved three day eventing, so she started when she was eight with a pony named Fitzzimons. They worked their way up to near training level over the years, and at that point, she needed a new horse. Her father bred her a nice TB/Paint cross gelding, and so she trained and evented him for several years. After a nasty crash, that resulted in the horse's inability to jump over three feet, Ava started on the hunter/jumper circuit. She loved the hunters, and the jumper world sparked her interest as well.
They lived on a farm in west Seattle of about twenty acres, and they owned eight fabulous horses. Her brother Evan owned a Dutch Warmblood superstar eventer mare named Evalyn Ring. They competed all the way through advanced intermediate, and preliminary eventing. Ava always went to her brother's events, no matter where they were. When she wanted to advance, she bought a thorougbred by the name of Malick to go to the four foot jumper division, and she stayed with Pools, her old eventing partner for hunters.
It was on a warm summer evening when Ava was twenty and home from school for the summer that everything changed. As it turned out, the one event that she did not see her brother compete in, was the one that took his life. His beautiful mare stumbled before a massive trakhner, and smashed into the log. She flipped over, and landed directly on top of Evan, snapping his spine and killing him almost instantly. It was a horrible experience for Ava, and is the reason that she often jumps when the telephone rings on quiet afternoons. It wasn't a week after the funeral when her mother got a job offer on the east coast. Pools was too old to stand in a trailer anymore, so she sent the gelding to her aunt Beatrice, who lived down by Emerald Downs. Beatrice was a race horse owner, and loved her horse crazy niece. So, in an effort to give her something to look forward to, she bought her a four year old imported Dutch Warmblood mare from Germany. A sturdy, beautiful creature, bred for jumping. A lovely hunter, and yet a powerful jumper and cross country runner.
With her hopes up, Ava, now in her third year at college at Meredith Manor, she moved to West Virginia, and found Pinewood. Interested in the atmosphere, and the friendly environment, she decided to board and train her young horse there. Her hopes high, and her horse young and athletic, she hopes to get back into eventing, and do some hunter/jumping events as well. Her parents live in Kentucky, where her father trains eventing horses still. Her aunt Beatrice still lives in Kent, and happily helps her out financially whenever she needs it.
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HOW CAN A MAN BE ALL THAT THEY SAY
[/color]WHEN ALL THAT I KNOW IS MEN RUNAWAY?[/font][/center]
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
This is from my own site, a race horse owner named Alexandrea Ryoma, talking to her "rival" Ingrid Von Muller.-
Alex nodded as Ingrid mentioned her name. She seemed a touch more relaxed than Alex felt, which irked her a little, but she shook it off. No, she wasn't going to be like she was with Jaimy...or Rachel for that matter. She was well aware of the other three top dogs, and so was the rest of the racing world, it was just never spoken. Nobody ever really mentioned their being the best, but everyone seemed to just know it. Finishing her coffee, Alex was wide awake now. She nodded again when Ingrid mentioned the race. Yes, the Breeder's Futurity, that stupid colt Rocket. Well, his full name was Rocket's Rip Roarin' Texan, and he had the mind of an Arab and a poorly bred Warmblood combined. He would be bouncing all over the track with energy, but he couldn't quite figure out what the opening doors meant. He was a brilliant colt, and very fast, but there was no brains to that horse.
However, it was the mention of the year that put Alex at ease. Why was she being so finicky? Of all the other horse owners, (whom, she all hated, and they hated her), Ingrid was the only one that she didn't loathe entirely. So why was she so stiff? Ingrid wanted to be friendly, so Alex was going to have to push aside her pride and accept it. She felt herself relax, along with the atmosphere. "So it has," she said with a noticeably more friendly tone. Her voice was slightly distant, because she was remembering that day. Yes, Rocket had been having a good day, he wasn't fighting, he hardly fidgeted at all. Most importantly he had walked calmly into the gate. However, not everything had gone as smoothly as it had started. Out of the gate, he was last. The jockey, being an experienced fellow that Alex had been fond of, tried to boost him up a few places. What did the blasted creature do? he sprinted to the front, ignoring his jockey and almost fell down on the rail. He had a good three lengths on the pack, and then Fiery Fool came out of nowhere.
Of course, old Rocket wasn't about to be beaten by a girl, so he rattled out some nice, late headaway at the finish, but the girl darn whooped his ass. It was a nightmare. Alex only partially caught Ingrid's words, but when she realized it, she smiled a little, genuinely. "He'd be passing up Seabiscuit if he knew which damn way was forward," she said with a snort. It was true, no horse started worse than Rocket, which was why she called him that. The irony of it all. She could call him Tex, or Texas, but really, what's the fun in that?
"Have any blooming two year olds? Some good studs maybe?" she said casually, because an idea had come to her. Windsor and Bennetair stables, the finest in Kentucky, and breeding partners. They'd have a huge advantage over the other two, because they'd be working together. She would buy Fiery Fool in a heartbeat for a dozen grand. That filly had some heart. Rocket had scraped a win or two after that, but nothing notable. Of course, she shouldn't complain. She had Firebringer. A European bred thoroughbred who became a mistress of hell on the track, and little madam cool pants in the field. She was nothing on Firelight though. The way that filly ran...she was a year old, and she was sprinting like she had hell's coals on her heels, and she was racing the devil. Alex was excited to see that girl run. Except, she was short. Quite short, nearly fourteen hands at a year old. Good Lord, pray there's a growth spurt in there somewhere.
Alex nodded as Ingrid mentioned her name. She seemed a touch more relaxed than Alex felt, which irked her a little, but she shook it off. No, she wasn't going to be like she was with Jaimy...or Rachel for that matter. She was well aware of the other three top dogs, and so was the rest of the racing world, it was just never spoken. Nobody ever really mentioned their being the best, but everyone seemed to just know it. Finishing her coffee, Alex was wide awake now. She nodded again when Ingrid mentioned the race. Yes, the Breeder's Futurity, that stupid colt Rocket. Well, his full name was Rocket's Rip Roarin' Texan, and he had the mind of an Arab and a poorly bred Warmblood combined. He would be bouncing all over the track with energy, but he couldn't quite figure out what the opening doors meant. He was a brilliant colt, and very fast, but there was no brains to that horse.
However, it was the mention of the year that put Alex at ease. Why was she being so finicky? Of all the other horse owners, (whom, she all hated, and they hated her), Ingrid was the only one that she didn't loathe entirely. So why was she so stiff? Ingrid wanted to be friendly, so Alex was going to have to push aside her pride and accept it. She felt herself relax, along with the atmosphere. "So it has," she said with a noticeably more friendly tone. Her voice was slightly distant, because she was remembering that day. Yes, Rocket had been having a good day, he wasn't fighting, he hardly fidgeted at all. Most importantly he had walked calmly into the gate. However, not everything had gone as smoothly as it had started. Out of the gate, he was last. The jockey, being an experienced fellow that Alex had been fond of, tried to boost him up a few places. What did the blasted creature do? he sprinted to the front, ignoring his jockey and almost fell down on the rail. He had a good three lengths on the pack, and then Fiery Fool came out of nowhere.
Of course, old Rocket wasn't about to be beaten by a girl, so he rattled out some nice, late headaway at the finish, but the girl darn whooped his ass. It was a nightmare. Alex only partially caught Ingrid's words, but when she realized it, she smiled a little, genuinely. "He'd be passing up Seabiscuit if he knew which damn way was forward," she said with a snort. It was true, no horse started worse than Rocket, which was why she called him that. The irony of it all. She could call him Tex, or Texas, but really, what's the fun in that?
"Have any blooming two year olds? Some good studs maybe?" she said casually, because an idea had come to her. Windsor and Bennetair stables, the finest in Kentucky, and breeding partners. They'd have a huge advantage over the other two, because they'd be working together. She would buy Fiery Fool in a heartbeat for a dozen grand. That filly had some heart. Rocket had scraped a win or two after that, but nothing notable. Of course, she shouldn't complain. She had Firebringer. A European bred thoroughbred who became a mistress of hell on the track, and little madam cool pants in the field. She was nothing on Firelight though. The way that filly ran...she was a year old, and she was sprinting like she had hell's coals on her heels, and she was racing the devil. Alex was excited to see that girl run. Except, she was short. Quite short, nearly fourteen hands at a year old. Good Lord, pray there's a growth spurt in there somewhere.
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I THINK I LOSE JUST A LITTLE BIT OF ME
[/color]IN EVERY MAN THAT I SEE.[/font][/center]
This app was made by JESS. Lyrics by Tyler Hilton and Jon Mclaughlin
