Post by Auralee Collins on Jan 17, 2013 14:22:17 GMT -5
Auralee Tzipporah Collins
Out of Character
Alias: Cori
Age: Eighteen
Gender: Female
RP Experience: ~6 years
How Did You Find Us?: Ad on CHB
Activity Level: As much as I can? Couple times a week
Other Characters: Nada
Keyword in Rules: Verified by Ana
RP Sample:Her lips, both soft and cool, brushed his, sending fire across his face and the fire spread throughout his body. Without a thought or hesitation, Fabian wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. Her arms were thrown around his neck, pulling him downward due to her shortness. But that did not bother him at that moment. He was focused on her and her kiss. His breath was short from a combination of the kiss and the stab wound. Suddenly, Fabian realized whathe was doing. He pulled away, almost shoving her back. He covered his face, which was red from embarrassment and exertion.
He had never kissed a girl on the lips before, or been kissed in such a way. One girl had tred, but he had grown angry and nearly strangled her. But that violent thought had never crossed his mind with Lilia. How curious. His head was spinning and he thoughts were confused. "Lilia..." He started, then paused, not quite sure what he wanted to say. "You are really too excitable," He finally settled on that, it seemed a safe bet. He was still trying to wrap his head around what had happened.
What did this mean? Did Lilia fancy him? Surely not! She probably just wanted to use him fr some purpose... At least that was what he told himself. Somehow, that theory did not quite fit with hs image of Lilia. She seemed incapable of using anyone, let alone him. He looked at her, his face finally back to its normal color. "What was that about?" He asked, sounding a little more gruff than usual. He was really very uncomfortable with the whole situation, but Lilia probably kissed everyone she hurt, as way of making up to the or some other odd reason. There was no reason to think he was special.
General Information
Full Name: Auralee Tzipporah Collins
Gender: Female
Birthday: April 4th, 1996
Age: Sixteen
Camp Experience: Eleven years
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Claim Status: Claimed
Divine Parent: Aeolus, minor god of winds
Looks
Hair: Blond, straight, long, reminds one of wheat
Eyes: Green, large
Height: 5'0"
Weight: 94lbs
Picture: Click
Playby: Nastya Kusakina
Dressing Style: Aura prefers oversized, warm clothes due to the breezes that tend to follow her. She wears clothing that is less expensive and can be worn many times. Her clothes are all patched or worn.
General Appearance: A girl who looks like she could blow away at any minute. She is thin, pale, and waifish. There seems to be an air of defeat around her, like she has lost her fighting spirit. However, there is a power in her, that only comes to the surface in her greatest times of need.
What Makes Them Them
Personality Description:
Aura is a down home country girl from Nebraska. She is humble and quiet and hates to be the center of attention. She has a servant-like attitude, stemming from her legacy of Ganymeade, the cupbearer to the Gods. She is neat and tidy and it is not unusual to wander into the Minor Gods cabin and find Aura on her hands and knees, waxing the floor.
She does not mind getting rough and tumble and does not care about her outward appearance, seemingly. She is very observant and can remember large amounts of information at a time. However, if called upon to relay this information, she will have great difficulty. Much like the wind, her thoughts are scattered and loose. Her ADHD seems to be worse than average.
Auralee is emotional and passionate, crying and lashing out to anger quick. She is quick to apologize, however, and always feels guilty if she makes someone feel bad. Aura will bend over backwards to please people, almost without thought. She wants to be accepted, but at the same time, feels she is a danger. She tries to distance herself from others, and her emotions. She is afraid that if she does not do so, an incident like the one that killed her mother will occur.
She feels... powerless in some ways, as well. She is unconfident and clumsy, usually messing even the smallest task up. She tries to help, but she somehow just makes it worse. She does not feel solid. Auralee feels like she could float away, or disappear, at any moment, like she was made of truly nothing but air. She is jealous of the other demigods, the ones who parents are the main twelve. She does not like that her father, and her, are pushed aside so easily. She resents those who are not "minor".
Auralee holds grudges and has a hard time forgiving and forgetting. She judges at a glance and mistrusts nearly everyone, at first. She is often called "fake" because she is polite on the surface to everyone. But that was how she was raised. She keeps her thoughts to herself, hating herself for how she judges others so easily. She knows she should be more tolerant, but she is unable to do so. She never had many friends, and being at camp has not changed that. Aura can hardly stand to remain inside for long periods of time, or around a large number of people. She does not work well with others. She is like the wind; unpredictable, unconquerable, and free.
Aura is not always cheerful or always sad. Her emotions change with the slightest breeze. She is sensitive to words, and perceptive to the emotions of others. She can be a ray of light in a storm, or the storm itself. It depends on the moment and the person. She is skittish and standoffish, employing the flight instinct more than anything. She loves archery, being able to manipulate the air around the arrow. And her weapon choice reflects her personality. She would rather fight from afar than up close. Up close, she is at someone's mercy, but from afar she has more control. That is why she may watch a situation before approaching, to make sure she can handle it.
Aura's emotions are unstable and she can only handle so much before reaching her breaking point. She has anxiety and has panic attacks, a weakness she despises. Her self-remedy to go lie in a cool, breezy place for an hour or so. She is a loner, who wants to be a social butterfly but cannot comprehend how to do so.
Likes:
+Breezes
+Classical Music
+Swimming
+Flying
+Running
+Archery
+Being in control
+Helping others
+Alone time
Dislikes:
-Tornados
-Fire
-Falling
-Dark places
-Still air
-Close range fighting
-Losing control
-Being alone
-Being taken advantage of
Fears:
-Closed in places where breezes cannot reach
-Tornados/Twisters
-Dust
-Dying
Secrets:
-Believes she caused the tornado that killed her mother and destroyed their home
-Scared of the dark
-Scared of fading away
Ambitions:
+Become powerful enough to fly
+Meet her father
Powers: Control over winds, may conjure tornados/high power winds if emotion is strong enough. Is able to accurately pinpoint location when flying. Can identify wind streams. Can communicate with some flying animals.
Family and History
Personal History:
Maggie Collins was born and raised in Nebraska, to a loving, but stern, couple who ran their own diner and general store in the small town they called home. From a young age, she was trained to make people happy (mostly customers) and did so beautifully. She was also interested in weather, begging her practically minded parents for books about meteorology and anything else related to the natural world. As she grew older, her interest expanded into her choosing her major for college.
It was no surprise when it was meteorology. She got a job at the local news station as their weather woman and was so very happy. She helped her aging parents around the diner and the general store when she could, and the townies all talked about the charming Maggie Mae (as she was affectionately referred to by the locals).
Being in Nebraska, tornados were nothing special, a regular occurrence. The older generation joked that you could set your watch by a tornado, especially during The Season. During The Season, when Maggie was in her late twenties, a handsome man blew into town, almost literally. He claimed to be a storm chaser, and Maggie could not have been more thrilled! She and the man struck up a friendship, especially over their mutual interest in wind patterns. He invited her to chase tornados with him and Maggie agreed. She convinced her work it would be great for ratings, grabbed a camera, and set out.
In Oklahoma, they were chasing a very large and very nasty tornado when disaster struck. Maggie, who was driving, underestimated the tornado and the car started to be dragged into the funnel. A cow passed them, mooing in panic. The man, who called himself Arnie, slammed his hands against the dashboard and the tornado disappeared, vanished. Amazed, Maggie looked at him, "What are you?" She had heard legends of beings who could do wondrous things from her father (who was secretly a demigod).
"We're just lucky, I guess." He replied, avoiding her question. Maggie, overcome by adrenaline and joy at being alive, jumped him, right then and there. Their affair was brief and lasted all of one week. By that Friday, she was back on her parents' doorstep, alone but with lots of footage of twisters. However, the miraculous event was missing, as if the camera had never been there. A few months later, while at a regular routine check up, Maggie learned she was pregnant. She desperately tried to contact Arnie, but no response. He had simply vanished into thin air (literally).
The pregnancy was rough, plagued by morning sickness and The Season. At eight and a half months, Maggie went into labor, in her parents' storm shelter, while a tornado raged overhead. The baby girl was named Auralee Tzipporah. Auralee at Maggie's orders, and Tzipporah at her mother's. The child was not a quiet one, screaming and crying and laughing. Whatever she did, she did with gusto.
Her childhood was normal, other than the fact that Aura seemed to be almost calmed by tornados and winds. Everyone just chalked it up to who her parents were. The first time Maggie suspected her child was... special, was when she caught the baby floating in her sleep. Floating, as if on a cloud, above her cradle, peacefully sucking her thumb. Shocked, Maggie scooped her up before anyone else saw. But her father knew. He started to make plans for the child to be taken away to Camp Half Blood, at the earliest convenience. Little did he know that his daughter's death would be the chance he was looking for.
The day started out normal. Maggie was baking cookies as her four year old sat on the floor, playing with the plastic cookie cutters and utensils. Then it started. That noise, like a train in the distance. The purple skies. Maggie called for her mom, who was napping in the other room. The old woman came in, leaning heavily on her cane.
"Best get your pa." She said, hefting the child onto her hip and heading for the basement. Maggie bounded outside, calling her father in from the garage, where he was working on the car. He came quickly, being accustomed to dropping everything and running. He shooed his daughter into the basement.
The tornado came quick and they heard the sirens too late. "Should get those fixed," The old man thundered above the railing of the storm. Aura started to cry.
"I forgot her doll upstairs!" Maggie cried. The baby's wailing picked up, and so did the tornado. Maggie moved for the stairs, dodging her parents attempts to stop her. Aura was angry! She had to get the doll for her baby, to comfort her through the storm. Her knowledge told her it was far off still, a mile or so. As she reached the doll, something ripped the house apart. It was like the tornado had arms and was reaching for her. The doll slipped through her fingers as Maggie whispered, "Impossible."
Auralee stopped crying and the storm died down. Fearing the worst, her grandfather climbed the stairs, his old bones creaking in protest. His house, the one his grandparents built, was gone, with only a small fire as the reminder of something that had once stood there. And his daughter, his Maggie Maelyn, was gone. Nothing, not even a shoe or a hair, was left. Broken and angry, the old man collapsed, crying out to the gods-his gods-for mercy on an old man. He noticed a piece of paper, untouched by the destruction, just by his fingers.
He reached for it, cursing his shakes, and read it. Camp Half-Blood. That was it. He called for his wife, said he would be taking the baby and for her to collect what she could. Daniel Collins went to his garage and pulled out something he had not touched in half a century-his sword. He must have looked odd, a seventy something old man wearing a sword attached to his overalls, and beaten and overlarge breastplate slung on his body and a toddler in his arms.
"You've been trouble, Auralee, ever since you was born." He grumbled. "But now... I'm gettin' my piece of mind back. Ain't no more monsters what gonna attack me and my people." He reached the edge of town and held the squirming, but excited, toddler up. "Take her then."
A man appeared, Arnie. "Thank you, Daniel. So sorry we had to meet this way." He claimed the child.
"Yeah, yeah. Just get off my property, Lord Aeolous." He grumbled, turning. "I got a monster to kill."
Aeolous watched the man go, his grey eyes shifting like the skies above. "Oh, there was no monster... Was there, my daughter?" He cooed to the child and Auralee batted at the little bits of cloud that surrounded her father. "Now... To your real home."
And Auralee was dropped off at camp, just days after her fifth birthday. She grew up surrounded by Greek mythology. She watched demigods come and go, every size and shape and heritage. She was cut off from the mortal world and she craved it. She struggled throughs books about it. She wanted to know about her family, her grandparents, but was told nothing. When she finally discovered them, and wrote to them, she found them gruff and distant. When her grandfather blatantly told her he thought she had caused her mother's death, she was heartbroken.
Had she?
Could she do it again?
Aura cut off communication, but when she received a Christmas gift, a book of her mother's that had survived The Day, she tried again, and found them more receptive this time. Her grandfather asked strange questions, like he knew where she was and what she was doing. Had she been claimed? Yes, when she was ten. Was she training? Yes, she was a good archer. Had she been on a quest? No, she was too young, too unstable. He seemed to understand, but was careful... so very careful.
Mortal Parent: Maggie Maelyn Collins [x]
Other Family:
Peggie Lou Collins, grandmother, strained relationship
Daniel "Mac" Collins, grandfather, strained relationship, son of Ganymeade
And Finally...
I, CORI, have made this entirely up. I did not rip somebody else’s application from any site, and have followed the rules accordingly.
And…? Yes.
