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by Lady Arbitrary 11/24/2012, 7:18 pmName: Victorie Knight
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Eyes: Bright green
Hair: Dark, wavy, past her shoulders
Height: 4’ 10”
Body Type: Slender, doll-like, very, very short.
Skin Color: Pale olive
God Parent: Aphrodite
Mortal Parent: Gage Griffin
Country of Origin: USA
Pets: A tuxedo cat named Whiskers.
Talents: A great artist, obsessed with botany, a brilliant crossbow shot, rides motorcycles.
Weapon**: Cherry wood crossbow with CB tipped bolts
Flaws: Can be a little too blunt, sometimes tactless, doesn’t like to be serious, hides her troubles, has a slight form of Tourettes, doesn’t like doves, has a huge sweet tooth.
Powers(must relate to god parent; optional):None
Life Before CHB*: Victorie’s father was a celebrity chocolatier, so she grew up privileged. She lived in a rural town in Connecticut and began self-teaching herself drawing and botany. She lived happily until she was twelve, when her father married. Only Victorie could see that the stepmother was actually an empousa in disguise. After countless fights with her father over this matter, he sent her to a mental hospital. Or at least he tried to. On the ride to the train station, she escaped and stole a vintage motorcycle in the gas station parking lot. She rode it around New England for three years, changing her plates occasionally and mysteriously not getting caught. Eventually, she followed various rumors to Camp Half Blood.
RP Example*: Victorie jumped off her motorcycle and knocked on the door of the cottage. A few minutes later, a bedraggled and pathetic looking boy came outside. He peered at her intensely for a beat of silence, unsure of what to make of her. Finally, he spoke. “What are you doing here?” Victorie rolled her eyes. “Nice to see you too, Steven.” A dove alighted on her shoulder and she irritably waved it away. Steven forced out a chuckle. “Still hate them?” Victorie punched him lightly in the arm. “Don’t try to distract me. You know what I need.” The boy rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m trying to pretend I don’t.” Victorie huffed in impatience. “Come on! Why don’t you want me to go there!? They say it’s the best place for people who . . . people like me.” She still couldn’t come to terms with what the goat boy had told her. “Look.” Steven sighed. “When you go there you won’t be back for a while, and I’m selfish enough to want to see you again.” He smiled awkwardly. “But the thing about that place is . . . the stakes are real. People die. Two of my friends have gone there, and only one of them is still alive, and I haven’t seen her since she left. You’re doing fine on your own! Can’t you . . . can’t you stay in the real world?” Victorie looked at the ground. “I’m sorry, but I need to go. Please tell me where it is.”
Any notes about your characters: Adores chocolate, doves are attracted to her
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Eyes: Bright green
Hair: Dark, wavy, past her shoulders
Height: 4’ 10”
Body Type: Slender, doll-like, very, very short.
Skin Color: Pale olive
God Parent: Aphrodite
Mortal Parent: Gage Griffin
Country of Origin: USA
Pets: A tuxedo cat named Whiskers.
Talents: A great artist, obsessed with botany, a brilliant crossbow shot, rides motorcycles.
Weapon**: Cherry wood crossbow with CB tipped bolts
Flaws: Can be a little too blunt, sometimes tactless, doesn’t like to be serious, hides her troubles, has a slight form of Tourettes, doesn’t like doves, has a huge sweet tooth.
Powers(must relate to god parent; optional):None
Life Before CHB*: Victorie’s father was a celebrity chocolatier, so she grew up privileged. She lived in a rural town in Connecticut and began self-teaching herself drawing and botany. She lived happily until she was twelve, when her father married. Only Victorie could see that the stepmother was actually an empousa in disguise. After countless fights with her father over this matter, he sent her to a mental hospital. Or at least he tried to. On the ride to the train station, she escaped and stole a vintage motorcycle in the gas station parking lot. She rode it around New England for three years, changing her plates occasionally and mysteriously not getting caught. Eventually, she followed various rumors to Camp Half Blood.
RP Example*: Victorie jumped off her motorcycle and knocked on the door of the cottage. A few minutes later, a bedraggled and pathetic looking boy came outside. He peered at her intensely for a beat of silence, unsure of what to make of her. Finally, he spoke. “What are you doing here?” Victorie rolled her eyes. “Nice to see you too, Steven.” A dove alighted on her shoulder and she irritably waved it away. Steven forced out a chuckle. “Still hate them?” Victorie punched him lightly in the arm. “Don’t try to distract me. You know what I need.” The boy rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m trying to pretend I don’t.” Victorie huffed in impatience. “Come on! Why don’t you want me to go there!? They say it’s the best place for people who . . . people like me.” She still couldn’t come to terms with what the goat boy had told her. “Look.” Steven sighed. “When you go there you won’t be back for a while, and I’m selfish enough to want to see you again.” He smiled awkwardly. “But the thing about that place is . . . the stakes are real. People die. Two of my friends have gone there, and only one of them is still alive, and I haven’t seen her since she left. You’re doing fine on your own! Can’t you . . . can’t you stay in the real world?” Victorie looked at the ground. “I’m sorry, but I need to go. Please tell me where it is.”
Any notes about your characters: Adores chocolate, doves are attracted to her
Last edited by Lady Arbitrary on 11/25/2012, 12:53 pm; edited 1 time in total
