Post by Liandra Harrington on Aug 25, 2009 20:54:14 GMT -5
"It was a virus. An infection. You didn't need a doctor to tell you that. It was the blood. It was something in the blood. By the time they tried to evacuate the cities it was already too late. Army blockades were overrun. And that's when the exodus started. Before the TV and radio stopped broadcasting there were reports of infection in Paris and New York. We didn't hear anything more after that.’"
'28 Days Later'
'28 Days Later'
Your Name: Ash
How many years roleplaying?:13
"Because I could not stop for Death --
He kindly stopped for me --"
He kindly stopped for me --"
Emily Dickinson[/center][/size]
Character Name: Liandra Harrington
PB: Lucy Lui
Age: 30
Date of Birth: February, 11, 1979
Residence: Halifax, Nova Scotia
Profession: Canadian Merchant Navy, First Mate of the British Registered Duchess of Atholl.
Appearance:
Liandra stands at five feet and seven inches, slim of build, she is wiry like a Gray Hound. Asian in heritage she has a rich complexion with a generous helping of freckles across the bridge of her check bones and nose. Dark eyes with equally short dark hair, Liandra rarely spends any time on her appearance. Limited space and limited time ashore for the past 11 years has stunted her growth and pride in physical appearance. She prefers simplistic clothing, suited to the cramped confines of the Atholl and the required safety precautions of living on a naval ship 9 months out of the year.
Personality: Black is Black and White is White. She has an almost abusive no-nonsense attitude, and little patience for those of slower intelligences and wit. While she can be quite engaging, to the point of almost charming, yet it is rarely seen. There is always work to be done; she does not abide even the appearance of laziness when things are to be done and will rough shod over anybody in her way when she has a goal.
She has no qualms about jumping into the 15 foot shaft of the Atholls's pistons or suiting up in heavy seas to go beneath the stern of the ship to untangle the rotor's from tuna lines. She is with out fear to the point of suicidally dangerous to herself and others.
History: Born to Chinese immigrate and a Canadian national as an only child; Liandra was raised in a house hold below the poverty level outside of Hali9fax, Nova Scotia. She had few things to call her own even as the sole child in the house, she learned to entertain herself through dance, exploration, and anything physically challenging. Liandra's mother detested such unseemly behavior for a girl while her father cheerfully encouraged her to new hieghts of difficulty through creative uses of their house and surrounding neighborhood.
It soon became an everyday occurrence, by the time Liandra hit her pre-teens, for her neighbors to hear loud thuds upon their roofs, followed by the patter of feet as Liandra took a running leap to the next. She was ostracized by her peers for her odd behavior, her poor clothes, her choice of games. The resulting loneliness and sense of isolation fueled Liandra to take her explorations further, farther, and to more dangerous heights with in the city proper.
Where the sky scapers, parking garages, and multilevel building were a breeding ground for poor decisions making. At the age of 16 Liandra become pregnant after meeting a charming young man of smooth words. He had pursued her for months after watching her scale the outside of a parking garage, cat leaping between the garage and neighboring garage to gain the top. Though the moment her menstrual cycle failed arrive Young and Charming disappeared.
Liandra gave birth to the baby girl, Boahan, stayed in school and graduated. At 19 she was in a car accident with Boahan, a faulty child seat lock was the cause of the two year olds' death. It was barely three months later that Liandra, distraught and confused, joined the Merchant Navy and shipped out.
Since the moment she stepped upon her ship, a 10,000lb Dry Hauler, she has had no inclination to return to Halifax. For the first time in her life she felt connected to the people around her. Liandra was an asset almost immediately aboard ship, for despite it's size, the crewed areas were small, cramped, and dangerous to work in. She had no fear of climbing into tight and dark places to fix malfunction equipment, and her lack of fear and physical abilities to get into any place within ship made her and instant asset.
She is currently the First Mate of the Duchess of Atholl and Passenger and Cargo Hauler.
Likes: Music, the Ocean, Hard Work, Heights.
Dislikes: Spiders, Rats, Laziness, Fear.
Strengths: Courage, Physical Agility, Determination, Fortitude, Nautical Knowledge
Weaknesses: No Social Skills, Brash, Fearless to the point of Stupidity, No Weapon Knowledge, Suicidal, Impatient,
Parents: Shi Boahan Harrington and Charlies Harrington
Siblings: None
Spouse: None
Children: Boahan Harrington (Deceased)
Anything Else?
Roleplay Sample:
‘Get out of my way..’ Nimarie glared, trying to see Jerich and just him. There were twisting currants of power everywhere, so strong she could visually see them congregating on Twin, within the castle. Her stomach was a twisted knot of acid in her stomach as she fought her own magic's instinctual responses to lash out. Nimaries hair was quickly shifting from red to blue as her magic started to take control and then back to red as Nimarie dominated it to her own.
Her voice was strained, "Go back to your room, Jerich."
Nimarie felt bile rise in the back of her throat; never had she fought for control when her power demanded to be unleashed with such ferocity. She had gained little control with her powers under Gral, just enough to guide her powers, but not it's strength. As she stood before Jerich she felt every once of clawing at her mind, seeking escape. Her teeth were gritted as she spoke, "The queen need's you there."
When Jerich had stepped around her he would have found himself against an invisible wall. Slick to the touch, as if it was constantly moving, but as solid as the bed rock of the earth. An invisible barrier that rose higher in the sky than the birds fly, but was small, encompassing her and Jerich, leaving no option but to go backwards, to his room. Nimarie trembled in her ebon gown, pale hands clenched together in a white knuckled face. "The Crown Prince needs you there..."
Waves of power swirled around her suddenly as her control of her power slipped again, flinging her hair up as if gravity had no claim to it, her skirts seeming to move on their own violation..."Please."
Blue eyes, no longer silver, looked into the distance of the Queens room, for the first time since her power had come upon her she felt fear. Fear not of her power, but that it wouldn't be enough to hold back who ever it was in the Queen's Rooms. She didn't take her gaze away from the unseen source of her terror, "I'll...try to keep it back."
Surreal suddenly came to mind, all her sibling did, and she smiled faintly. Pleasant memories dancing in her mind of growing up in these halls, childhood games with her sisters, the few glorious moment when father had sat her on his knee. His smile seeming to make the world glow. Nimarie relaxed, her hands unclenched, she looked to the ceiling, not really seeing the stone. She wasn't seeing the castle around her at all, she was seeing the magic, the power, and the magnetic lee-lines of the earth it's self. Her hands raised slightly, palms up, as she felt the stone with her mind. She felt each grain, it's imperfections, it's small intricate creation....
"This is where you run." Nimarie reach out to those grain and push against them mentally softly. The ceiling groaned as Nimarie opened her awareness to more than just the grain above her, but to the stone all around her. The barrier wafted away as if upon a wind and the castle groaned around her, the floor shuddered under their feet with seeming gentleness; the wall cracked to their left.
Nimarie turned inwards, her eyes closed, and looked down. Seeking, searching, every grain within the castle ahead of her, towards the Queens rooms. The touch of her power was almost gentle, like the thrumb of a stringed instrument upon the graphite within the granite stone. It started as a soft sound, like sand being blown on the wind, as those grains were sent to vibrate through her touch. She reached deeper, pulling at the natural energy around her without regard to sentience or inanimate. Servants and Soldiers would fall over in a swoon suddenly as Nimaria pulled it into her, reaching deep, seeking not just the castle walls to touch, the bed rock it was set upon.
The castle walls closest to her started to come apart, cracking and groaning, before turning to dust. It was almost delicate, peaceful, to watch. A maw started to grow beneath her feet as grain by grain she plucked the world apart from her. Separating it's individual grain from another with swift gentleness. Nimarie floated above the maw, her dress drifting apart. Nothing was immune to the quiet destruction around her...and it spread onwards.
