Post by Seraph on Sept 23, 2007 1:09:29 GMT -5
”Who am I?”
Persephone Amarantha Faust
”Just call me Seraph.”
Oh if I could fly away.
”I know what you’re going to ask next, and yeah, I really am only seventeen. I skipped a grade, so this will be my last year.
[/right] Leap the Beltane fire for luck
"I picked May 1st as my birthday because it's as good a day as any. No one but my mother knows what my real birthday is.”
[/right]The cage is rusting.
”I come from a lot of places. For the moment, I’m based in Colorado.”
[/right]A drifter, Romani blood in my veins.
”You want to know about me? There isn’t much to say. My mom was sixteen when she had me in a bus station somewhere in Kansas. She died when I was two, mugged on her way home from work. Our neighbor took me in, and then I got passed along to whoever could take care of me. When I was six the system caught up with me. I didn’t have a birth certificate or anything, so they made one up for me. From there I bounced around between foster homes until I was sixteen. This older couple adopted me, but it’s really more of a job. Janette and Robert pay for me school and bills, and I watch the horses and dogs while they travel. That’s it, really.”
-Stats-
-5’10”
-130lbs
-Curly black hair, just long enough to brush the tops of my ears.
-Green eyes, dark enough to be near black
-Cinnamon skin tanned copper by sunlight
-Tattoos taken from myths cover much of her skin. The Wild Hunt dashes across her back from right shoulder to left hip, one of the Gentry masked like a bird riding his fanged stag, green eyed hounds forming from the mists around the beast’s hooves and red eyes ravens soar above, one darting over her left shoulder, it’s head resting just under her left collarbone. A rose and briar pattern climbs up her right thigh in delicate, feminine swirls, the faces of woodland animals hidden in the petals of the roses. Over her stomach gallops an eight legged horse in the company of a snowy hued Pegasus, a fiery feathered phoenix curving over them. A web pattern voered her left hip, dangling from it a delicate spider resting on her thigh watched by a grey eyed owl. Around her neck a great snake eating it’s own tail is etched into her skin in delicate jeweltones.
[/color][/b]-Stats-
-5’10”
-130lbs
-Curly black hair, just long enough to brush the tops of my ears.
-Green eyes, dark enough to be near black
-Cinnamon skin tanned copper by sunlight
-Tattoos taken from myths cover much of her skin. The Wild Hunt dashes across her back from right shoulder to left hip, one of the Gentry masked like a bird riding his fanged stag, green eyed hounds forming from the mists around the beast’s hooves and red eyes ravens soar above, one darting over her left shoulder, it’s head resting just under her left collarbone. A rose and briar pattern climbs up her right thigh in delicate, feminine swirls, the faces of woodland animals hidden in the petals of the roses. Over her stomach gallops an eight legged horse in the company of a snowy hued Pegasus, a fiery feathered phoenix curving over them. A web pattern voered her left hip, dangling from it a delicate spider resting on her thigh watched by a grey eyed owl. Around her neck a great snake eating it’s own tail is etched into her skin in delicate jeweltones.
See the pretty pictures?
”Those? They don’t mean anything.
I trapped a feather of my soul in every one