Post by Ember on Jun 29, 2015 0:23:33 GMT -5
Basics
Name: Ember Belle Ardor-Knight
Nicknames: Em, Emby
Age: Seventeen
Birthday: May 9th
Grade: 11th
Power: PyrokinesisThe ability to manipulate flames. Ember is able to generate flames in her palm, then impose her will upon said flames- increasing the size of the flame and manipulating the shape and temperature of said flame.
Though she can manipulate already existing flame to some extent, extinguishing it is a skill she doesn't posses.
____
Member Group: Prefect
Appearance: Blonde hair topples over the shoulders of this tall seventeen-year-old female. Measured at five feet, ten inches, Ember stands at above-average height. But it's her cheerful expression and whimsial motion that people will often notice first. Confident in her actions, and bubbly in personality, there's hardly a step out of place, even in her most carefree moments. It visibly foretells of a focus indicitive of more intelligence than meets the eye.
Yet, it isn't wise to give her too much credit. Intelligent and graceful as she appears, she's also regularly excitable and inattentive. Using her cheerfulness against her, her guard is easily lowered, her trust almost instantly extended, at least superficially. This superficial air of trust for others serves her well, giving the impression of a non-judgemental prefect.
Personality
Overall Personality:[/s]
Likes:
* Musical instruments
* Mangoes
* Stargazing
* Bubbles
* Gummy worms, crushed Oreo, and chocolate pudding
[/ul]
Dislikes:
Fears:
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Goals:
History
Family Members:
Karen Ardor: Mother
Jared Knight: Father
Smith Ardor/Knight: older brother
History:
at least three paragraphs
Behind the Character
Name: Hödekin[/blockquote]
Chatango Name: Hodekin
RP Experience: Ten years =x
How did you find us?: Foxxy
RP Sample: The music was unmistakeable.
Loud and insistent, it traveled through the hallways, easing unnoticed past closed doors, echoing the familiar sounds of a marching band, with it's upbeat medley. The insistent, lighthearted small tap of the drums, the repetitive, staccato of the larger drum, offsetting the melodic, crescendo of the guitar, the deep, repetitive tones of the singer's voice... It was march-worthy, especially with the dominance of the brass instruments midway through.
'The father gets a call in the middle of the night. his breath gets short, and his chest gets tight.'
Ember picked up the fallen sheet music, humming to herself as the words continued. She tapped the sheets against the piano, forming a nice, unified stack that she could leave atop the piano for the next student wishing to play.
'We're all wasted, no, no, no, we're all wasted. We're all wasted, no, no, we're all wasted.'
The song had passed the minute mark, chiming it's familiar, repeating chorus. Idly, Ember's hands dropped down, danced along the piano keys, the notes complimenting the cheerful, upbeat song playing through the stereo across the room.