Post by atlanta on Jun 6, 2010 20:24:33 GMT -5
Name: Amgine Carter
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Orientation: Straight
Guild: ------------
Shapeshift Form: horse
Appearance:
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Orientation: Straight
Guild: ------------
Shapeshift Form: horse
Appearance:
Human:Personality:
The first thing most people notice about Amgine is her eyes. Set above her high cheeks bones are two blue grey orbs. Her nose is a tad too long, giving her a mousy look at certain angles. Her lips are full and naturally pink. Naturally wavy mahogany tresses frame her face and fall just to her shoulder blades.
Standing just a hair under 5' 7" Amgine is certainly tall, mostly due to her long legs. She's well built, most people mistake her for a competitive swimmer because she has fairly broad shoulders but not overly bulky. Her shoulders taper down to a slender waist and down her her thin, long legs. She simply looks like an extremely athletic teenager. She believes this is due to her shifting form and the muscles that get worked. Her marking is located on the inside of her lower lip (this is where thoroughbred are tattooed for racing)
Shifted:
She shifts into a horse. A thoroughbred to be exact. For you non-horsey people, those are the horses that run around the race tracks at ridiculous speeds. Thoroughbreds were bred to have long legs (for covering more ground with each stride) a wide chest(more room for larger lungs since they take in more oxygen) and large eyes for better sight.
Amgine shifts into a 17.1hh(hand high...a hand equals 4 inches soo 5' 7") dapple grey Thoroughbred. She can reach speeds up to 43 mph and in small bursts can reach up to 50mph. Her mane and tail reach to her shoulder and her coat is well cared for. Her hooves are hard and can be used as lethal weapons if needed.
Very reserved. and quiet, almost shy to a fault. People assume she's either stuck up or strange. If you actually talk to her though you'll find that she's extremely smart and very nice. Amgine doesn't trust people, mostly because it's instinct, which is why she keeps to herself, the less you're noticed, the less chance there is of being discovered. She has warmed up to a few people, but they're either dead or gone, only one knew her secret. She enjoys listening and observing, she knows how to read body language and enjoys helping people.History:
I don't know, I mean, there's not much to tell. I'm just another sob story, a loner, an orphan, there are people much worse off than I am, then again, there are people who could use a bit of tragedy in their lives, it would bring their view on reality to a much more rational level. I grew up in London with my dad, he knew what I could do, he even bought a horse farm just outside of town so I wouldn't have to be worried about being 'out of place' or something. I guess it's the thought that counts, right? You're probably wondering where my mom is right? Yeah, so am I. She took off when I was old enough to be bottle fed.Sample:
So, my dad was killed a few months ago, they say it was a 'wrong place, wrong time' thing, but I think he died protecting me. A few days after the funeral, his oldest friend hands me a sealed envelope and tells me that my dad had asked him to give this to me incase something 'like this' happened. That night I opened it and found a bank card with everything he owned, plane tickets, and letter telling me about Shelpy Alley and how to get there. So here I am. Maybe I won't have to hide anymore...
ATLANTANormally not being able to see more than a few lengths ahead would make Atlanta nervous, but it seemed that this was not true at the moment. Perhaps it was the scent of clean air, or maybe the feeling of loneliness. Either way, the mare did not seem to mind the fog that pressed on her, much like an anesthetic would, curling its feathery fingers about her ivory bodice, tracing every contour and etch upon her being, making her seem almost one with the mist.Other:
To an outcast of the scene, Atlanta might appear to be a ghost, a presumed victim of the caves, with haunting violet blue voids and a fluid gait. Upon meeting her however it would be apparent that she was flesh and blood, with warmth coursing through her veins and a beating organ in her chest. Not that any of this mattered. Atlanta did not normally enjoy the company of others as they did not mentally stimulate her nor understand her sarcasm and why she hid behind it. It was a shield, keeping others at bay so they could not hurt her. It had not failed yet. She had successfully pushed everyone away.
The wind was not as apparent as it normally was, but Atlanta could always feel it, and if she concentrated hard enough she could make it move, control it to her will. These were things she was learning as she wandered these lands, that she had a gift.
She let her mind wander as her violet and indigo swirled occs scanned the terrain, or, what she could see of it at least. Harks swiveled atop her crown, listening. Paper thins dilated, testing the thin air for anything strange. A hint of something, perhaps another equid, tainted her sense of smell, it was diluted though so perhaps they were a far ways away. A sigh escaped her vox as she picked her way through the mountain pass, though it was tough, she still maintained a grace about her. Not that she felt graceful, ha, not in the least bit. She was, to herself, clumsy, strange, and in moments of vanity she saw herself as lowly and plain, and so, she assumed that this was how others saw her.
tag: Descartes -Spyder
words:378
muse: better than I expected
notes:Sorry if its too wordy, my muse was changing it up a bit.That would be from a horse rp I was on.