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by dawny ii 9/17/2014, 3:16 amName: Flora Samuels
Gender: Female
Mortal Parent: Jay Samuels
God Parent: Demeter
Date of Birth: September 3 2002
Place of Birth: Whitefish, Montana
Hometown/Last Residence: Whitefish, Montana
Race/ethnicity: Native American/African American
Accent: New English
Skin Tone: Dark
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Hair Color: Black
Hair Length: Mid-back
Height: 4' 11"
Weight: 75 pounds
Body Type: Slim/Athletic
Appearance:
Flora is a slim girl, not overly tall for her age, and almost skin and bones. She has narrow shoulders, a thin waist, and is a veritable waif of a girl, looking like she could be blown away by a breath of air. She has middling length black hair, which she usually pulls back into a messy ponytail. Her eyes are dark and expressive, due to her lack of speaking, occasionally her eyes will talk for her, in a totally not creepy way that is. She has dark skin, about the color of milk chocolate, or maybe just a touch darker, which is for the most part clear, though she has the beginnings of acne.
She has a sort of athletic vibe to her, meaning that though she could probably be blown away by a gentle breath, she can still hold her own, in a battle of witts, or anything else for that matter. Her face is narrow, and angular, and her cheekbones are high and sophisticated, she has a light dusting of freckles over her nose, and on her usually rosy cheeks, that hold a healthy glow to them at all times, much like a rose in bloom. Her hair is coarse, and often frames her face in a stiff, fluffy mess, which makes her efforts of braiding, or tying it back double.
Her arms and legs are slim, with a faint line of muscles on them, due to her working in her small fragrant garden. Her hands are calloused from all she does, and she has a sort of sad quality to her entire appearance, as if she has seen a lot of sadness.
Her lips are dark and relatively full, though when she is upset, or sad they will form together in a light line of uncertainty.
Weapon: An 18 inch celestial bronze dagger
Armor: None
Pet(s): None
Skills/Talents: Good with plants, and later on may be able to grown thicker vines in a shorter time. (Though this will sap energy quickly). She is also good with animals, she was an athletic gymnast when she was younger, though never had formal training, and when not tripping over herself she is rather good at fancy footwork.
Flaws: Indifferent, Klutz, Meddlesome, Naive, Soft Hearted, Unpredictable.
Strengths: Good with animals, athletic, and decent at knife play.
Weaknesses: Klutziness, inability to keep a calm head.
Likes: Gardening, playing hopscotch, laughing, and having friends.
Dislikes: Socialization, the dark, anger, and unnecessary violence.
Fears: Death, loss of love, the unknown, that which isn't there, her life never amounting to anything.
Personality:
Flora is definitely quirky, as she had no 'proper' education, and was home-schooled she stayed out of the peer pressure of any school, though she doesn't feel smarter, or better for it. She loves flowers, and gardening, and that is her one true escape, it's what keeps her going, even when she is worried sick, she could always go to the little garden behind the shed and help plants to grow.
Having one parent really messed up her life, as she never knew what it was like to have a mother, and so never felt like she could talk to anyone else, except for her dad... who seemed distant almost all the time.
Flora never cares, she just gave up caring the six months, when a fire raged through their small flat town of Whitefish, population under 10,000. She never really could shake that helpless feeling of not being able to do anything, even at such a young age, and so turned a cold shoulder to the world. What had it ever done for her? In addition to her problems, she could never stand up straight, and manage to walk across a floor without falling down at least once or twice, having no coordination really was not fun, seeing as... well it made everything harder for her, and making friends even harder.
Because she had nothing to do for 12 years except study, and just... well do whatever, she developed a bit of a mean streak, though more mischievous than mean, quickly growing adept at small, harmless pranks, that got a reaction out of her usually boring, and silent father.
Flora likes to think of herself as free, untouched by society like some people in the books her father read to her when she was little, but she didn't really know, she is impressionable, and easy to sway in opinion. Her heart goes out to anyone who is in trouble, be it a sweet woodland creature stuck in a trap, or even a trampled flower, and will do whatever she can to take care of it, and make it feel safe. Nature is the one thing that she lets continue in it's cycle, it is fresh, perfect, and the best place to go when you need somewhere to breath.
Despite her Nativity, and overly kind nature, Flora is a bit of a free spirit, not really caring what other people think about her, and just wanting to do her own thing, not let anyone get in her way, as her goals in life change from day to day.
Flora is sweet, kind and shy, though she does like to make mischief from time to time, she is overall a fairly nice impressionable young girl, who just wants somewhere to belong. She has an amazing imagination, and can imagine herself anywhere she wants. A way for her to remove herself from her sometimes... unhappy situation.
Powers: Though her powers are far from developed yet, she can grow vines, and plants with variable ease, depending on the size, and density of that which she is growing. (So growing a clump of grass would not affect her as much as growing a thick vine, which would probably leave her exhausted.) She can use her power a maximum of six times daily however that varies on what she is growing, or helping to grow.
dSocial Status: Outcast
Summer or Year Rounder: Year Rounder
Years at Camp: First Year
Life Before Camp:
Flora was born in the small town of Whitefish Montana, with a very small population. Her father owned a grocery store and gardening shop which their house was over. He owned it, ran it, and enjoyed talking to other people, while she would hole herself up in her room above the shop and freak out over various things.
Her only escape was gardening, and while her father worked himself ragged to support both of them, she would sneak off to the edge of the property where she had planted a small garden years before and take care of it, sometimes slipping into the woods for a nice, sweet day… where nothing, and no one would be able to stop her from having a nice time.
Imagining her mother, who must have been beautiful, and… well… wishing that somehow she could know her, if she was still alive.
Her life was the same until one day six months ago when a fire raged through the small town, creating havoc, and killing several people, she had just returned from a trip to the woods, when she saw it, in the flames a shape. Turning she ran and didn’t come out for quite some time.
Though she could never forget the slightly fragrant smell that had come from the fire, peaceful, almost… hypnotic. Like the smell of lavender when you pick it and then crush it in your hands gently, to let the oils free.
Three months later she and her dad left after getting insurance money, and they began a long road trip to New York, where her dad left her, and that is the start of her story.
Role-playing Example:
Flora was cold, tired, scared, and just overall in a bad mood. Her dad had decided that they should take a road trip after that unfortunate fire that had burned down their small house. The only bright side about it was that they got a good hunk of money in insurance claims, which had allowed them to take this road trip while they decided where to settle down... or at least that was what her father said.
She was sitting in the car, kicking her heels against the bottom of the seat, humming a tune that she remembered from somewhere, though she was not sure where. They were now somewhere in New York or something, having driven for a few months to get here, stopping in motels, and hotels along the way, but only to leave again.
Why couldn't they have taken the plane or something, instead of this... which took waay to long.
The dark haired twelve year old yawned and leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes as she did so. She was so bored... And she couldn't even read, as words scrambled themselves on the page, making her mind swim as she tried and tried again to get it right.
“Where did you say we were going again?” She asked her dad with a sigh, it was late June, maybe August… or possibly September, she really didn’t know, or care. “A camp… Where you’ll be safe. Your mother asked me to… umm bring you there when you were twelve, in a note… with you.” Her father muttered absently looking back for a few seconds at her.
Well that was unexpected, she opened one eye. “What was she like… my mom?” The girl asked a small frown beginning to pucker on her face.
“She was beautiful Flora… so beautiful, with such a passion for flowers you’ve never seen, friendly, sweet, I… I really loved her.” Well that was unexpected, she had never hear her father say the ‘L’ word, she wasn’t even entirely sure what the ‘L’ word was, but it sounded sappy… yet beautiful. “Okay.” She murmured closing her eye and dozing off. She didn’t know how long she had slept, but when she woke up she was lying on the grass, a note beside her, and a dagger, why a dagger? Her father had left her hear?! Oh dear what was happening to her her?
She began to black out as friendly faces surrounded her.
Notes: None that I can think of.
Gender: Female
Mortal Parent: Jay Samuels
God Parent: Demeter
Date of Birth: September 3 2002
Place of Birth: Whitefish, Montana
Hometown/Last Residence: Whitefish, Montana
Race/ethnicity: Native American/African American
Accent: New English
Skin Tone: Dark
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Hair Color: Black
Hair Length: Mid-back
Height: 4' 11"
Weight: 75 pounds
Body Type: Slim/Athletic
Appearance:
Flora is a slim girl, not overly tall for her age, and almost skin and bones. She has narrow shoulders, a thin waist, and is a veritable waif of a girl, looking like she could be blown away by a breath of air. She has middling length black hair, which she usually pulls back into a messy ponytail. Her eyes are dark and expressive, due to her lack of speaking, occasionally her eyes will talk for her, in a totally not creepy way that is. She has dark skin, about the color of milk chocolate, or maybe just a touch darker, which is for the most part clear, though she has the beginnings of acne.
She has a sort of athletic vibe to her, meaning that though she could probably be blown away by a gentle breath, she can still hold her own, in a battle of witts, or anything else for that matter. Her face is narrow, and angular, and her cheekbones are high and sophisticated, she has a light dusting of freckles over her nose, and on her usually rosy cheeks, that hold a healthy glow to them at all times, much like a rose in bloom. Her hair is coarse, and often frames her face in a stiff, fluffy mess, which makes her efforts of braiding, or tying it back double.
Her arms and legs are slim, with a faint line of muscles on them, due to her working in her small fragrant garden. Her hands are calloused from all she does, and she has a sort of sad quality to her entire appearance, as if she has seen a lot of sadness.
Her lips are dark and relatively full, though when she is upset, or sad they will form together in a light line of uncertainty.
Weapon: An 18 inch celestial bronze dagger
Armor: None
Pet(s): None
Skills/Talents: Good with plants, and later on may be able to grown thicker vines in a shorter time. (Though this will sap energy quickly). She is also good with animals, she was an athletic gymnast when she was younger, though never had formal training, and when not tripping over herself she is rather good at fancy footwork.
Flaws: Indifferent, Klutz, Meddlesome, Naive, Soft Hearted, Unpredictable.
Strengths: Good with animals, athletic, and decent at knife play.
Weaknesses: Klutziness, inability to keep a calm head.
Likes: Gardening, playing hopscotch, laughing, and having friends.
Dislikes: Socialization, the dark, anger, and unnecessary violence.
Fears: Death, loss of love, the unknown, that which isn't there, her life never amounting to anything.
Personality:
Flora is definitely quirky, as she had no 'proper' education, and was home-schooled she stayed out of the peer pressure of any school, though she doesn't feel smarter, or better for it. She loves flowers, and gardening, and that is her one true escape, it's what keeps her going, even when she is worried sick, she could always go to the little garden behind the shed and help plants to grow.
Having one parent really messed up her life, as she never knew what it was like to have a mother, and so never felt like she could talk to anyone else, except for her dad... who seemed distant almost all the time.
Flora never cares, she just gave up caring the six months, when a fire raged through their small flat town of Whitefish, population under 10,000. She never really could shake that helpless feeling of not being able to do anything, even at such a young age, and so turned a cold shoulder to the world. What had it ever done for her? In addition to her problems, she could never stand up straight, and manage to walk across a floor without falling down at least once or twice, having no coordination really was not fun, seeing as... well it made everything harder for her, and making friends even harder.
Because she had nothing to do for 12 years except study, and just... well do whatever, she developed a bit of a mean streak, though more mischievous than mean, quickly growing adept at small, harmless pranks, that got a reaction out of her usually boring, and silent father.
Flora likes to think of herself as free, untouched by society like some people in the books her father read to her when she was little, but she didn't really know, she is impressionable, and easy to sway in opinion. Her heart goes out to anyone who is in trouble, be it a sweet woodland creature stuck in a trap, or even a trampled flower, and will do whatever she can to take care of it, and make it feel safe. Nature is the one thing that she lets continue in it's cycle, it is fresh, perfect, and the best place to go when you need somewhere to breath.
Despite her Nativity, and overly kind nature, Flora is a bit of a free spirit, not really caring what other people think about her, and just wanting to do her own thing, not let anyone get in her way, as her goals in life change from day to day.
Flora is sweet, kind and shy, though she does like to make mischief from time to time, she is overall a fairly nice impressionable young girl, who just wants somewhere to belong. She has an amazing imagination, and can imagine herself anywhere she wants. A way for her to remove herself from her sometimes... unhappy situation.
Powers: Though her powers are far from developed yet, she can grow vines, and plants with variable ease, depending on the size, and density of that which she is growing. (So growing a clump of grass would not affect her as much as growing a thick vine, which would probably leave her exhausted.) She can use her power a maximum of six times daily however that varies on what she is growing, or helping to grow.
dSocial Status: Outcast
Summer or Year Rounder: Year Rounder
Years at Camp: First Year
Life Before Camp:
Flora was born in the small town of Whitefish Montana, with a very small population. Her father owned a grocery store and gardening shop which their house was over. He owned it, ran it, and enjoyed talking to other people, while she would hole herself up in her room above the shop and freak out over various things.
Her only escape was gardening, and while her father worked himself ragged to support both of them, she would sneak off to the edge of the property where she had planted a small garden years before and take care of it, sometimes slipping into the woods for a nice, sweet day… where nothing, and no one would be able to stop her from having a nice time.
Imagining her mother, who must have been beautiful, and… well… wishing that somehow she could know her, if she was still alive.
Her life was the same until one day six months ago when a fire raged through the small town, creating havoc, and killing several people, she had just returned from a trip to the woods, when she saw it, in the flames a shape. Turning she ran and didn’t come out for quite some time.
Though she could never forget the slightly fragrant smell that had come from the fire, peaceful, almost… hypnotic. Like the smell of lavender when you pick it and then crush it in your hands gently, to let the oils free.
Three months later she and her dad left after getting insurance money, and they began a long road trip to New York, where her dad left her, and that is the start of her story.
Role-playing Example:
Flora was cold, tired, scared, and just overall in a bad mood. Her dad had decided that they should take a road trip after that unfortunate fire that had burned down their small house. The only bright side about it was that they got a good hunk of money in insurance claims, which had allowed them to take this road trip while they decided where to settle down... or at least that was what her father said.
She was sitting in the car, kicking her heels against the bottom of the seat, humming a tune that she remembered from somewhere, though she was not sure where. They were now somewhere in New York or something, having driven for a few months to get here, stopping in motels, and hotels along the way, but only to leave again.
Why couldn't they have taken the plane or something, instead of this... which took waay to long.
The dark haired twelve year old yawned and leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes as she did so. She was so bored... And she couldn't even read, as words scrambled themselves on the page, making her mind swim as she tried and tried again to get it right.
“Where did you say we were going again?” She asked her dad with a sigh, it was late June, maybe August… or possibly September, she really didn’t know, or care. “A camp… Where you’ll be safe. Your mother asked me to… umm bring you there when you were twelve, in a note… with you.” Her father muttered absently looking back for a few seconds at her.
Well that was unexpected, she opened one eye. “What was she like… my mom?” The girl asked a small frown beginning to pucker on her face.
“She was beautiful Flora… so beautiful, with such a passion for flowers you’ve never seen, friendly, sweet, I… I really loved her.” Well that was unexpected, she had never hear her father say the ‘L’ word, she wasn’t even entirely sure what the ‘L’ word was, but it sounded sappy… yet beautiful. “Okay.” She murmured closing her eye and dozing off. She didn’t know how long she had slept, but when she woke up she was lying on the grass, a note beside her, and a dagger, why a dagger? Her father had left her hear?! Oh dear what was happening to her her?
She began to black out as friendly faces surrounded her.
Notes: None that I can think of.
Last edited by dawny ii on 9/17/2014, 12:18 pm; edited 1 time in total
