Post by Deleted on Mar 3, 2014 16:44:39 GMT -7
Tara Hunt
Tara Hunt Thirty-four Noble Tara Friendship vaccine --Solarmon FACE CLAIM: Major Motoko Kusanagi ANIMANGA: Ghost in the Shell GENDER: Female HEIGHT: 5'6 WEIGHT: 144 APPEARANCE If rough can be used to describe Tara's personality than it can be used to describe her looks. Tara’s got a stern face of someone who doesn’t mess around. And even though she’s just as often to laugh and joke as the next person her face is normally stony set just like the desert lands she grew up in. Tara’s wardrobe reflects those desert colors of tans and browns, as if she was going out hiking every day. She wears comfortable clothing, even when she’s running the bar, and is thankful every day that her blood runs a little warmer than most- or rather it feels that way for Tara as she rarely gets cold and it allows her to wear such attire. You will also never find Tara in a swimsuit as she has no desire to go near water- be that from growing up in a desert or because she never learned how to swim, it’s hard to tell. Tara’s hair is cut short so she doesn’t have to fuss with it and very rarely does makeup grace her face. The only thing that Tara could be accused of being vain of is her body, which she works out constantly, preparing herself to be a soldier in this war. LIKES
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HISTORY Tara was raised by her mother for the first three years of her life. This wasn’t due to her father, Mitchel, being a deadbeat dad or because he was some big CEO of a major company- he was a military man. He was on duty for those years, doing tours for his country and family. Occasionally, Mitchel would stop by the house in their desert surrounded city to check in on his family, but most of the time duty called him away. It wasn’t until that third year, when he resigned from the military, did Mitchel return home for good. He never really talked about his career those first couple of years, not even to his wife. Perhaps it was this lack of communication on the matter that eventually caused her to leave him. They had tried to work past their difference for the sake of Tara, but some couples aren’t meant to be together and Tara’s parents are one of them. Tara was six at the time and, despite her dad not being around for the first half of her small life, she was completely besmitten by him. She looked up to Mitchel with a wide eyed wonderment and respect that most young children often have. Tara Hunt was a daddy’s girl through and through. Around that time, Mitchel’s dreams shifted and he promptly bought an abandoned inn which, through the help of the local community, he converted into a bar. While he would never confess it outright, Mitchel was concerned for his daughter’s wellbeing, thinking she might be lonely with having no mother or siblings around. But he did the best he could and took her out into the desert to train and play so they could hone their skills and share some quality father daughter time as they did so. Tara grew up that way, with the bar being the center point of her life. It soon became a local gem, bringing in both usual customers and tourists. Tara loved it. Her father loved it too and he soon loosened up, although he did keep some of his military quirks that transferred down to Tara like using military time, keeping in shape, and a heavy respect for authorities. When she was around 28, her father passed away, leaving to her the bar. And she still had not become a tamer. Tara listened to the unrest happening in Japan and the tamers that were fighting it, her sense of duty crying out at such injustice. The woman would have stayed in her inn but she knew what her father would have done- he would have gone where his strength was needed. So Tara did what she could and relocated herself in Tokyo, using the next six years to learn the language and customs as well as start a new business. And during the beginning of those years Tara finally received what she wanted: her own partner, her own abilities as a tamer. MEMBER NAME: Parrot AGE: 19 OTHER CHARACTERS: N/A ROLEPLAY SAMPLE Even the gods needed their alone time. Matsya was a firm believer in this understanding, no matter how much he craved interaction with people. There were simply some days that he wanted nothing more than to leave his home, travel somewhere on someone else’s money, and arrive in a place he hadn’t been before. There were even times when Matsya would stay away for weeks on end, but eventually the heart shattering realism of no one knowing who he was outside of his local area pushed the reluctant deity back home. Luckily, this mini vacation had been going well for the avatar of Vishnu. He’d traveled to the Kerala backwaters, a crop of lagoons and lakes in Southern India that Matsya favored. It was the best place for him to spend a little quality time with himself in his home and element. Far away from the tourist's ferries and rental boat houses, Matsya had settled himself onto the bank of the river, his loose lightweight pants rolled up to his thighs as his legs floated in the murky water. He had stripped his shirt off an hour ago, dropping it into a lazy pile next to him as he titled his chin and chest to the sun above him. A canopy thick of jungle and palm trees offered a small dose of shade- just enough so Matsya wouldn’t over heat. He could smell the faint decay of rotting plants and lingering musk from the swamp like place, but nothing was as powerful as the scent of the river. Stagnant it may have been in some areas, the water still called to him like a siren’s song. Even the fish scale ‘tattoos’ on his wrist seemed to shine brightly, perhaps illuminated from the sun or perhaps it was some other reason, a reason that only the gods could explain. A mosquito buzzed determinedly around Matsya’s neck and ears, landing hesitantly on the deity’s dark skin before being brushed off. Matsya was hot now, his upper body sweating, his legs content in the brackish water. He could shift into a more suitable form than the human body he clung to lately. A fish or otter? Maybe even a kingfisher. He didn’t do birds normally, they were bit out of his range, and the kingfisher often fed on Matsya’s children…but by the heavens, it was a gorgeous bird. Matsya sighed heavily, lifting a leg from the water to watch as a dropped rolled down the arch of his foot and land back into the river. “Maybe I should call it quits for this week and head home,” he mumbled sourly to himself. But why did he think of the palace as home? He was a deity, a god, he belonged in the heaven realm. At least they knew who Matsya was there. “Doesn’t matter…” he huffed. Matsya closed his eyes, taking in the serenity of the backwaters. Those dour thoughts were for another day, right now he could just bask in his own company. |
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