Post by Hidden on Jun 15, 2008 13:18:12 GMT -8
Name: Philipia Wachavio
Nicknames: Pippa (or just Pip, if you know her well…)
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Type: Human
Personality: Pippa Wachavio is the essence of innocence. Her throat has never felt the burn of liquor, or her lungs the musk of smoke. She despises her name with a fiery hatred. Don’t expect to learn her full first name; it’s not something given out like free candy. Not once have her lips formed the words of profanity, and her mind is aching to join the actual human race; not just the padded cell of a life her parents have created for her. In simpler terms, Pippa is craving socialization.
Appearance: She stands no taller then 5ft, with a slender body type passed down to her by the aristocratic blood. Her hair was once pure blond, but now it threatens to turn into brunette. The front though still remains a light wheat color, gradually darkening until it meets the light brown in the back. Perhaps this slow creeping of darker shades in her hair symbolizes a change in her self as well. <br> Somehow her skin doesn’t quite tan, and her lips never leave the hue of red.
Sample:
Phil…ip..ia? Wash..haveo.
A man not much taller then Pip stumbles through the name on the card he was given just an hour ago. It was always an annoyance to her, having people mispronounce her name. Well, just the first name, though. Her parents always use to boast their last name in public just to see the many heads turn in response. Here was the last place she wanted her name said out loud. It was her chance at a new beginning, a clean slate, fresh soil; where no one would expect anything from her but what an average teen is expected of.
Pippa saves the man the trouble of saying her name a second time, her dainty legs dodging through the other people in the terminal to get to him. He begins the first syllable just as she bumps into him.
Yes, sorry, I’m here.
Pippa waits for a reply while stepping backwards some for a more appropriate distance between them. Her hazel eyes trace him over a few times, until she sighs in realization. She was overdressed for the city of Port Angeles; highly, overdressed. She takes a moment to silently wish to disappear. Or at least somehow magically change into something more suitable then her white silk dress. The rhinestone clip holding up the left side of her hair probably wasn’t helping the situation either.
T-This way, Miss. I’ll be your driver today to your aunt’s home in-
Pippa can feel the burn of eyes on her back, and tries her best to hurry the man along.
Forks. Yes my aunt lives in Forks, and she will sure be upset if we don’t arrive soon. This way is it?
She loops her arm through his, a gesture that would have been horrifying to her parents, and leads him through the front doors of the airport.
The man hustles to open the door of the black colored limo, just as the first spatters of rain darken her dress. More curious eyes land on the highly noticeable limacine and scan for who will be riding in it. Pip lets a sigh roll through her chest at the inability she had to blend in. Without allowing anymore time for the viewers to stare, she slips into the darkness of the vehicle as if it were a cave: finally disappearing from the sight of everyone around her.
Nicknames: Pippa (or just Pip, if you know her well…)
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Type: Human
Personality: Pippa Wachavio is the essence of innocence. Her throat has never felt the burn of liquor, or her lungs the musk of smoke. She despises her name with a fiery hatred. Don’t expect to learn her full first name; it’s not something given out like free candy. Not once have her lips formed the words of profanity, and her mind is aching to join the actual human race; not just the padded cell of a life her parents have created for her. In simpler terms, Pippa is craving socialization.
Appearance: She stands no taller then 5ft, with a slender body type passed down to her by the aristocratic blood. Her hair was once pure blond, but now it threatens to turn into brunette. The front though still remains a light wheat color, gradually darkening until it meets the light brown in the back. Perhaps this slow creeping of darker shades in her hair symbolizes a change in her self as well. <br> Somehow her skin doesn’t quite tan, and her lips never leave the hue of red.
Sample:
Phil…ip..ia? Wash..haveo.
A man not much taller then Pip stumbles through the name on the card he was given just an hour ago. It was always an annoyance to her, having people mispronounce her name. Well, just the first name, though. Her parents always use to boast their last name in public just to see the many heads turn in response. Here was the last place she wanted her name said out loud. It was her chance at a new beginning, a clean slate, fresh soil; where no one would expect anything from her but what an average teen is expected of.
Pippa saves the man the trouble of saying her name a second time, her dainty legs dodging through the other people in the terminal to get to him. He begins the first syllable just as she bumps into him.
Yes, sorry, I’m here.
Pippa waits for a reply while stepping backwards some for a more appropriate distance between them. Her hazel eyes trace him over a few times, until she sighs in realization. She was overdressed for the city of Port Angeles; highly, overdressed. She takes a moment to silently wish to disappear. Or at least somehow magically change into something more suitable then her white silk dress. The rhinestone clip holding up the left side of her hair probably wasn’t helping the situation either.
T-This way, Miss. I’ll be your driver today to your aunt’s home in-
Pippa can feel the burn of eyes on her back, and tries her best to hurry the man along.
Forks. Yes my aunt lives in Forks, and she will sure be upset if we don’t arrive soon. This way is it?
She loops her arm through his, a gesture that would have been horrifying to her parents, and leads him through the front doors of the airport.
The man hustles to open the door of the black colored limo, just as the first spatters of rain darken her dress. More curious eyes land on the highly noticeable limacine and scan for who will be riding in it. Pip lets a sigh roll through her chest at the inability she had to blend in. Without allowing anymore time for the viewers to stare, she slips into the darkness of the vehicle as if it were a cave: finally disappearing from the sight of everyone around her.
(accepted)