Post by rachel on Aug 10, 2010 13:36:57 GMT -5
Name: Rachel 'Qing Tian' Chang.
Nickname: Rachel.
Gender: Female.
Sexuality: Heterosexual.
Age/Birthday: 29/August 13.
Race: Chinese.
Place of Birth/Home Town: Los Angeles.
Character Portrayal: Faye Wong.
Hair: Black and pin-straight.
Eyes: Dark brown.
Height: 5' 5''.
Individual Features: She has rounded, slightly larger features, with a prominent jawline and high cheekbones. Her eyes are large and almond-shaped.
General Appearance:
She is quite pretty, although not so much that she could be vain over her appearance. In general, her appearance does not matter too much to her: as her mother used to say, if a person has eyes, nose, and a mouth, it is enough- asking for anything more is a waste of time. Rachel aligns closely to this philosophy, and in both their opinions, her attention should be reserved for more pressing matters.
Rachel's height is about average, although she tends to be skinnier than normal: she attributes this to a high metabolism and to a traumatic childhood under the rule of her father, who happened to be a health freak and a self-proclaimed master chef. This habit has yet to leave her; she has been a vegetarian for most of her life.
Clothing-wise, her sense of style is not especially unique, except maybe for her penchant for turtlenecks. Almost everything about her suggests a stiffly-reinforced conservatism, from the usually neutral colors that she wears to the absolute modesty of most of her clothing.
Family:
She has a small family, consisting only of herself, her father, and her mother. She keeps little to no contact with her extended family.
-Mother: Qing Yi Fan, 49, Psychologist
-Father: Max Chang, 55, Transport Engineer
Friends: None yet.
Enemies: None.
Job: Applied physicist/engineer.
Personality:
Likes: Learning, feeling productive, meaningful conversation, a good problem.
Dislikes: Lethargy, unprofessionalism, total uncertainty, anything overstated.
Fears: Dying too young, making large-scale decisions alone.
History: (At least 100 words.)
Random Facts:
RP Sample: (At least 100 words, from any previous roleplay or in character. It's just to gauge your characterisation and general spelling and grammar.)
Rules: Ha! What are these things you call rules?
Nickname: Rachel.
Gender: Female.
Sexuality: Heterosexual.
Age/Birthday: 29/August 13.
Race: Chinese.
Place of Birth/Home Town: Los Angeles.
Character Portrayal: Faye Wong.
Hair: Black and pin-straight.
Eyes: Dark brown.
Height: 5' 5''.
Individual Features: She has rounded, slightly larger features, with a prominent jawline and high cheekbones. Her eyes are large and almond-shaped.
General Appearance:
She is quite pretty, although not so much that she could be vain over her appearance. In general, her appearance does not matter too much to her: as her mother used to say, if a person has eyes, nose, and a mouth, it is enough- asking for anything more is a waste of time. Rachel aligns closely to this philosophy, and in both their opinions, her attention should be reserved for more pressing matters.
Rachel's height is about average, although she tends to be skinnier than normal: she attributes this to a high metabolism and to a traumatic childhood under the rule of her father, who happened to be a health freak and a self-proclaimed master chef. This habit has yet to leave her; she has been a vegetarian for most of her life.
Clothing-wise, her sense of style is not especially unique, except maybe for her penchant for turtlenecks. Almost everything about her suggests a stiffly-reinforced conservatism, from the usually neutral colors that she wears to the absolute modesty of most of her clothing.
Family:
She has a small family, consisting only of herself, her father, and her mother. She keeps little to no contact with her extended family.
-Mother: Qing Yi Fan, 49, Psychologist
-Father: Max Chang, 55, Transport Engineer
Friends: None yet.
Enemies: None.
Job: Applied physicist/engineer.
Personality:
Likes: Learning, feeling productive, meaningful conversation, a good problem.
Dislikes: Lethargy, unprofessionalism, total uncertainty, anything overstated.
Fears: Dying too young, making large-scale decisions alone.
History: (At least 100 words.)
Random Facts:
RP Sample: (At least 100 words, from any previous roleplay or in character. It's just to gauge your characterisation and general spelling and grammar.)
"...you can't see them, feel them, or hear them. Yet they influence our everyday lives."
So said the pamplet the ELF gaussmeter came with.
It had been an exciting morning, to say the least. Although Sylvie made it a rule to carry the ELF meter wherever she went, she'd never received as much as a stray signal in her previous visits to the supermarket. However, this morning had been fantastically different: not only were the chocolate pastries back in stock, but she'd gotten multiple ELF readings during her visit to the supermarket (one ping near the frozen chickens, another in the canned-soup aisle, and the last occurred as she was surveying the baked goods). This supported a long-standing thesis that she had been eager to prove: she had always had the conviction that ghosts lingered near organic matter as a way of anchoring themselves to the physical world, and she was sure that with a bit more ruminating, along with with her numerous other observations, this was the clinch.
...or perhaps there were just very many old lady ghosts, who, after a lifetime of shopping with coupons, could not have missed the fantastic once-in-a-year sale that the supermarket was currently having, even after death. That was a much more interesting hypothesis, she mused, after a moment's thought. This probably meant that free will existed after death.
Sylvie scribbled it down.
She wasn't scribbling in the most comfortable of positions, though- she was half-sitting, half-lying in the hallway outside her dorm room, accompanied by three bags of groceries. An onion had rolled out of one of them and had come to rest by her foot. Somewhat incongruously, a bunch of keys, marked with a bright red tag, hung somewhere in the vicinity over her head.
There wasn't really anything she could do to help her current uncomfortable state-- mystical beliefs aside, Sylvie happened to be completely defenseless against jammed locks (not that she looked particularly upset by it; she was scrawling her thoughts quite happily into her pocket-book). Besides, it wasn't the first time; her doorway had a propensity for barring her out. This was the first time it had occured during summer session, however. During the school year, she had mostly relied on Tiff-Tiff down the hall to bust in the door for her, but now... well, she'd have to wait for some large male animal to come help unstick her door.
In the meantime, she'd try to figure out if there was a demon inhabiting the lock.
Her ice cream was getting a little gloopy.
Rules: Ha! What are these things you call rules?