Post by Salem on Feb 15, 2010 16:46:40 GMT -5
presenting ,
SALEM CHRISTINE JOHNSON ?!
"I'm always there to wipe away your tears, lay your hair behind your gentle ear, and tell you there is nothing more to fear. You are the reason I'm the best I'll be, so let me stitch your heart so it won't bleed. And I won't rest until you finally breathe, 'cause I still love you more than anything."
name, Charlie
age, 17
gender, Female
contact, pm is fine
found us how, Riley
rule phrase RULES MADE BY FROZEN WAFFLES ?! of CAUTION.
other characters, None
full name, Salem Christine Johnson
nicknames, None yet
age, 17
powers, Empathy, Mediumship, Insight and Aerokinesis
house, I'm a little confused on the houses. But...Belleza Francesa.
date of birth, Feb. 17th
gender, Female
sexuality, heterosexual
Member-group, Human (possibly other. I don't think I'd classify her as a mutant, or a gifted human. or anything in between)
canon or original? Original
hair color, Brunette
eye color, Hazel/Green
build, In general, Salem is petite. She has a small torso, and a small chest. Her legs are long, and the most muscular part about her (considering running is about the only form of exercise she does and she does it every day). Her shoulder's are small and although she has the body shape of a tall person, she is only 5'4/
distinguishing features, She has a scar, a thick line, running from the left side of her collar bone halfway up her neck. Her right canine is chipped and she has a small tattoo on her left shoulder that is a red rose.
play-by, Lyndsy Fonseca
likes,
- Coffee. She really can't live long without it. She has a terrible habit of staying up all hours of the evening for no real purpose and then only getting 4 hours of sleep before class. Without coffee, she'd be a zombie.
- Running. Salem really loves to run, and for several reasons. First, Salem is terribly and secretly self-conscious. She's obsessed with her weight, and is determined to stay in shape. Running is also her way to getting anger and stress out. She also feels healthier after running.
- Hiking. Really anything outdoors, Salem loves. There's something about the outdoors that makes her happy. She can really appreciate nature.
- Ghosts Yeah you guessed it. Not that she really had a choice. As a medium, ghosts and spirits come to her whether she likes it or not. She likes them though, she feels useful and helpful as a Medium.
- Reading. Like most kids, she loves to read, even more than watching television. With an imagination like hers, she doesn't need actors and sets.
dislikes,
~ Chocolate. She never really liked chocolate. Something about it never really appealed to her.
~ Messy spaces. If there's one OCD thing about Salem, it's her love to be organized and clean. She has cleaned friends' rooms before because of the mess.
~ Notebooks. She hates them. They bother her. She's constantly ripping out pages, and changing notebooks. She can never keep track of them and she finds them all ugly.
~ Dishonesty. Don't ever lie to her. She's all about honesty. She won't speak to you again if you lie to her.
strengths,
+ Sociable.
+ Helpful.
+ Completely honest.
+ Organized.
+ Good leader.
+ Listener.
+ Devoted.
weaknesses,
* Judgmental.
* Mistrusting.
* Holds grudges.
* Not on time, most of the time.
* Has a hard time developing powers.
* Insecure.
* Insists on own views.
habits/quirks,
& Enjoys taking walks and runs and singing opera as she does so.
& Bites her nails when telling a lie.
& Sometimes skips to the endings of books and then goes back to read the book.
& Loves to buy candles and dream catchers.
secrets,
! She was anorexic (on and off) for two years.
! She knows her father (who is now deceased) cheated on her mother, but never had the heart to tell her.
! She snuck out of a date once by pretending to go to the bathroom and then leaving.
! She thinks her chest might be a little lopsided.
! She tried LSD once, thinking it was aspirin.
fears,
^ Having somebody cheat on her.
^ Watching a loved one die.
^ Speaking to a dead loved one, and not knowing they're dead.
^ Tornadoes.
^ Being accused of and punished for something she didn't do.
detailed personality,
First of all, Salem gives the worst first impressions. Always curious, once Salem becomes good friends with people she asks them what they thought of her when they first met her. They always differ and they're never correct. It's just something about meeting new people she just can't do. She tries, but just can't do.
But once you get to know her you'll notice her complete honesty, which isn't always positive and can sometimes come off as insensitive. But Salem is plenty sensitive, being an Empath. She just values honesty immensely and feels she has to be completely honest with people. And with her honesty she also loves to be helpful. As a born Empath, it's her nature to be so. But she doesn't usually want the help of others. She's terribly independent and always feels she has to do things on her own. She has tributes this trait to seeing her mother struggling to learn to care for herself and her brothers after their father died. She never wanted to struggle like her mother, she wanted to know she could do it without somebody elses help.
Salem is extremely devoted to the projects she works on, and basically everything she does. She's also has great leadership instincts and enjoys listening to others. But unfortunately, she's judgmental and holds grudges against people. Being an Insight, she even sees things in people's past that sometimes she subconsciously holds against people.
Salem has the worst time trusting people. Especially after seeing all the faith her mother put in her father and to this day her mother considers her father a great man. But Salem knew the truth. And when she found out about it, her whole world changed. She couldn't find herself trusting anybody but her brothers who even them she hesitated to trust.
parents,
Barney Simon Johnson {deceased}
Elizabeth (Liza) Williams Johnson {47}
siblings,
Jacob Foster Johnson {20} (2 years and 3 months older)
Simon Leo Johnson {18} (10 months older)
Gregory Liam Johnson {15} (2 years and a month younger)
children, None
significant other, None
pets, Calico cat named Autumn
hometown, Davidson, NC
detailed history,
Salem was born quickly after her brother Simon,, who was named after their father. She was named after her mother's best friend in college, who was later made her Godmother. It was actually a bit of a disappointment to the Johnson's to get a girl, hoping for three strapping young boys. Both had agreed girls were a lot tougher to raise than boys. But the two considered themselves lucky when they saw Salem already taking to a tomboy personality at a young age. By age 3 she was already enjoying yelling at football with her father, digging in the backyard to find China with her brother's and had her mother chasing her for what seemed like hours to get her in a bath. She obviously wasn't like normal girls.
Salem's powers very sneakily eased into Salem's life. If you asked, she wouldn't be able to tell you when they came in. They just always seemed to be...around. She kept them a secret though. She knew she was different than her brothers. She could see people they couldn't. And they weren't like her imaginary friends. They spoke to her. They told her secrets, and about themselves. She didn't really understand who they were. Or why sometimes she would cry or be angry because of them. When her grandmother died, and her mom told her, but she saw grandma a week later, walking around the house, she knew. She saw dead people. She spoke to them and interacted with them. At first it scared her, but grandma made it ok. She made her ok with the gift.
Soon she began to touch things and see they're past she really knew she was different. But unlike a lot of children, she was excited to be different. She loved it.
Until she touched her father one day, and saw something she never wish she had.
She saw another woman. She was old enough by then to know he wasn't supposed to be with her. He was kissing her like he kissed mommy. She was 8, and beginning to learn what mommy and daddy's really did. But even a five year old could figure out daddy shouldn't be kissing somebody who isn't mommy. Several times after it, she'd touch him and see flashes. She began to avoid touching him. She didn't like it. She felt weird seeing those things and they made her feel like she had to be quiet when he was around.
At 9, Salem's father died in a car crash driving home from work. Salem knew though. She knew it wasn't work. At his funeral she touched her father for the last time. It was confirmed. He'd been drinking with the other woman, and was driving home from seeing her.
Her mother tried to get the family counseling as she scrambled to pick up the pieces of their lives. But Salem wouldn't speak of her father. She wouldn't. Because if she said something about him, she'd have to tell her mother the truth. If she didn't talk about him, she wasn't lying. She couldn't bare to see her mother more hurt, so she just didn't talk about her father. Hasn't since his death.
At 13 Salem finally told her mother about her gifts. Her mother avoided the subject for years. Finally she and Salem had a confrontational fight and Salem begged for support and help. So at 17, she was sent to a school for people with gifts, to help.
anything else?, Well, I'm an actually Empath and have psychic abilities in real life. So if anybody has questions about how Empathy /actually/ works, in order to be completely realistic, I love talking about it. It's one reason my character is empathic, I understand what the limits of how real it is are.
roleplay sample,
She had been told one thing was sure. Every story had a beginning, a middle and an end. That every story needed a plot, because without a plot the story wouldn't live for long. That you needed characters, to even create the story.
Nathifa found life to be a story. The beginning was certain, new, and pure. The middle grew daily, filled with twists, plot changes and the most emotions, and a variety of them. The end was prompt, done and always had a happy ending. Or so everyone said. Every story had a happy ending, and that's why the middle was s twisted with emotions.
But she had a hard time believing that.
The beginning of her story start out lively, fascinating, and splendid. Every day there was something new, and a reminder of the old. New smells, new tastes, new sounds. Everything was marvelous in it's own way, and everything was magical to her. It was almost like a dream. A dream that lasted 15 years. A dream where she was able to be a delightful, magnificent, and naive child for so long.
The middle began abruptly, with no warning, like many middles. There's not always a definite time or spot where it starts. It just does. And so hers began. If she thought hard about it, and tried her hardest to remember , it sort of started on a cool evening. An evening where she decided to go for a walk, all beside herself.
It had been a stupid idea. That she had admitted to herself over and over and over now. She never let herself forget it, even though she had forgotten a lot with her bad memory. She couldn't let herself forget the lessons. Especially that one, which had landed her in her current position in the middle of her own story.
She had been walking, her small feet prancing upon the sand. Her smile had been big and the wind was caught in her long dark brown hair. Her long eye lashes brushed against her cheeks and opened to reveal big brown eyes, dark yet full of life and light. And that was how she had seen life before that night.
But that night, everything changed.
She couldn't remember the exact details. Many memories had been thrown out to make room for more important ones. No matter how much she wanted to remember the little things, her memory was bad enough, and there were some things she had to remember because her life depended on it.
And that simply stood above all the others.
The things she could remember were simple. She remembered beginning to run. She could remember panicking and losing her way. She could remember being grabbed and she could remember one specific word.
Nuri.
Gypsy. The word was clear as day. She screamed, she fought, she pushed and she was smacked. The word was repeated over and over. Gypsy, gypsy, gypsy. She told them, she knew that. She told them she was no gypsy. But they refused to believe her, probably didn't even listen to her. They simply hauled her away, never to see her family again. Not her mother, or her father, or her two older brothers, or her young brother either. They were gone from her life now. She wasn't anything but Nuri. She wasn't even Nathifa anymore.
Of course, if she had remained Nathifa, it would've been a lie, and yet ironic.
Nathifa meant, very specifically, pure. She had been pure, the first 15 years of her life. She was pure, unsoiled, naive and childish. But now it was all out the door. The story's plot was quickly changing, and it was only fit for her name to as well. She was that pure child anymore. She was a gypsy now.
Nuri, as she was called now, was kept in a weird room for a year. She was taught to dance in the room, and how to move in certain manners. She was taught what to do and what not to do. But never left the room.
A year had long passed before she was taken out of the room and to a place she never expected to see.
The palace.
There she remembered most. She could still feel the grasps of their hands on her as they tugged her to a spot right in front of her worst nightmare. The priest.
She hadn't feared him much before. She had seen the look in his eyes. The one that screamed a deep hatred for her, and one that yearned to hurt her, but she didn't fear him. To her he had only been a priest. She had no idea that he was going to become her worst enemy, and her biggest obstacle to overcome.
Nuri had come there, hard working, ignorant, ill tempered, clumsy, mischievous, lively, decisive, and quite curious. But with time and the crack of a whip, almost every personality trait she had once acquired over 15 years seemed to disappear like magic till she seemed to be just the skin of a woman, in tiny clothing, dancing and leaping across the floor.
To where she stood now.
She hadn't grown much in the year, possibly two, that she had been here. She had shrunk around the waist. She hadn't been very thin to begin with, but with little food and water, and training nearly everyday, she had become quite thin. She found herself to be grossly thin, but it seemed that was the way they all liked her.
She had also developed the muscles she needed to her dances, but she always felt like they would disappear overnight. She guessed from lack of proper foods, that they so quickly left her and she had to rebuild them. But she never said anything to the priest. She knew that he probably knew, but he loved to see her in pain.
Just as she was now.
"You stupid gypsy. Get up and go again. You will not please anyone tonight with that slop of a performance." he hissed, words as poisonous as a snake's venom.With a moment of his words the whip cracked, spiking her leg and breaking the skin some. She didn't touch it, just continued to sit on the floor where she had fallen, breaths coming heavily and eyes pinned on the floor. It was best not to scream or cry out, or to even touch it. It only made the priest cackle with laughter, and crack the whip again.
"Up you idiot! Get up!"
So she did, as much as she didn't want to. She wasn't herself anymore, and she recognized that. She wasn't Nathifa anymore. She was Nuri, the girl who was whipped, consistently exhausted an falling apart, who did whatever she was told. She didn't fight, she didn't snap back. That was the old her. The ignorant and naive one, from one or two years ago.
The one who didn't know or understand.
"I want tonight to go perfectly. It WILL go perfectly. Do you understand?"
His words seeped into her tiny ear, like a serpent slithering into her. She shuddered and began her movements once more, giving him a nod.
But that wasn't good enough.
The whip crack and smack the back of the same leg, the mark burning red.
"You answer when I speak to you."
"Yes, Master." she said through gritted teeth, trying not to reach back and grab her leg. Instead she continued to dance, trying her best, and pushing herself harder and harder. She knew that's what he wanted. He wanted her to be completely worn down for the performance. It gave him more of an excuse to whip her.
So the practice continued like normal. More complaints and rude comments from the Priest, and more pushing herself. She thought she was going to fall to the floor by the time it was time to ready herself for the performance.
She entered the area, swift and graceful in motion. The scars of the whips hidden, just like ugly things were. A white silky thin skirt hung from her waist by a gold chain that hung a gold triangle in the front and one in the back, both with designs and some blue colors. The skirt was long, but it was easy for her to move in it. Her top started at her rib cage, showing on her smooth, flat stomach. The same silk material covered her chest and some of her arm, and jewelery hung from her neck.
Her dark brown hair was partially in a loose bun, held by a gold piece, the rest fell on her shoulders, thick and shiny. A gold piece hung on her head as well, blue and red colors embedded in it. Her facial expression remained the same. She made her eyes smile, even though her soul did not, and her nose and mouth were covered by a small veil. The priest always sad her mouth and nose were stupid looking, and disproportional. Her nose was small and her mouth was average sized, just always in a frown. So they hid those, so people only saw her big, beautiful eyes.
And so the drums began. Softly at first, and so her feet mimicked it almsot. They made light steps, her body trying it's hardest not to show how tired she was. As the drums got louder her steps and leaps did as well. She hardly took her eyes off the people, and the priest in the background. She saw how he waited with hungry eyes, waiting for any chance to whip her for doing something wrong or slowing down.
She was getting ready for her first big leap when a movement caught her eye. And stupidly, she turned to look.
