Olivia Rayne Jamieldan [FINALLY DONE!]

[Liv Jamieldan]

.__{{T H E Writer
.Name. Lucky
.Age. 17
.Activity. Um. Three times a week. Sometimes less, as I'm starting my Senior year of Highschool, and its gonna start eating me soon.
.Experience.A litle over a year
.Contact.PM please.
Who were the Original Knights?: Israfel, Lourette, and Laties

.__{{T H E Character
.Name. Olivia Rayne Jamieldan.
.Nickname. Liv
.Age. 16
.Birthday. January 13
Race: Human with gift
Allegiance: Soon to be Order of Lumen
Profession/Rank: Soon to be Private, Healer in training

.Hair. Blonde
.Eyes. Blue-Grey
.Physical Description.

Liv could be amazingly beautiful if she ever let people see. She has blond hair that curls into tight ringlets. When it is wet it hangs almost to her knees. When it dries and curls it hangs to her waist. She never leaves her hair down. It is always braided into a tight French braid with some sort of fabric or ribbon twined in or around it. This helps keep the mass of curls out of her face, and helping her hide and blend. Her down turned face sports striking eyes the color of the sky during a mid-day storm, a small straight nose, and small plump rose pink lips. Nearly always her face is unreadable and looks plain, with a hint of hidden beauty. When she smiles her eyes sparkle and her true beauty is revealed. When she turns her full and powerful gaze on a person it seem like she can read their hearts.

Liv stands at a slight five foot one, and weighs in at less than 90 pounds. She is painfully thin, and her limbs are skeletal. Her vaguely emaciated body is perfectly proportioned with petite hands and feet. Her waif-like figure is clad in the ill-fitting clothing of an orphan with an undetermined job. She holds her sack-like wardrobe together and up with thin twine braided from the inner bark of a tree much like earth’s white oak. She holds herself always proudly, except for her traditional down turned visage. She owns one piece of jewelry, a simple metal locket. It contains a dried rose. The old tarnished locket was given to Liv by her mother when she was born, and the flower was given to her by her elder brother before he left to start his job, and disappeared.

.Picture.

.Celebrity Portrayal. Taylor Swift

.__{{T H E Thoughts
.Likes.

~Silence
~Thunderstorms
~Rain
~Wind
~Sun beams
~Music
~Art
~Love
~Children
~Calm
~Nature

.Dislikes.

~Crowds
~Liars
~Betrayal
~Broken promises
~Pain
~Death

.Goals.

~To Refine and Find a Use for Her Talent
~To Avenge Her Brother
~To Become a Part of Something Bigger Than Herself
~To Leave Her Mark on the World
~To Fall In Love
~To Save a Life

.Fears.

~Getting too close
~The pain of others
~Killing of innocence
~Causing the death of another

.Personality.

Liv is shy beyond shy. She will never make the first move in a conversation or relationship. She waits silently to be involved in anything. Her responses will almost always be simple short whispers. When she was young her parents were heavy on the “speak only if spoken to” maxim. She has had it hammered into her and holds it close to her heart. She hides her emotions well by never speaking. It is difficult to get to know Liv, and she rarely trusts. Liv is frightened of many things. She hides behind her silence and shyness to keep people out, fearing betrayal. It is easy to make her happy, but even easier to make her sad. Because of her gift she closes herself off from most of the world. Liv hides all of her emotions equally, causing many people to believe she is cold. She stands proudly, but with her eyes down turned at all times unless she is speaking to one she trusts, or wants to show the intensity she feels.

Liv loves the simple things in life, and when alone dances in rain and snow, she smiles at sunbeams and a trees. Thunderstorms make her laugh and spin, and improve her moods exponentially. She loves music and art, and small animals. When she is alone she smiles at almost anything, and every small happy truly brings her joy. She is generally happy inside, but does not show it. When she lets her guard down she is exceedingly simple to read her, but generally it is near impossible to know how she fells or what she is thinking. All of her emotions are intense and powerful. Often they overcome her.

Once someone has gained Liv’s trust that bond is difficult to break. She would do anything for a person who has achieved this near impossible feat. She is ready to sacrifice her self for anyone who has attained this high mark. When people lie, and break their word it hurts Liv more than it would hurt an average person. Very few people ever make it to Liv’s inner circle. Saying she would do anything for them is actually a bit of an understatement. She will ignore her own feelings and desires to fiercely protect a friend. She often puts her desires and needs on a back burner to help others. This stems from a long held belief that she doesn’t deserve to be happy when other are sad; she doesn’t deserve to be whole when others are broken. She sticks to the antiquated concept of the honor of one’s word. She believes that a person must always be held to their word, their promise.

Liv almost always knows what to say to make others feel better. She is a wonderful friend, but often gets put on damage control. She spends so much time and energy helping others that she forgets to live. She offers advice that almost always leads to happiness, and provides a wonderful listening ear and crying shoulder. Because people seem to be drawn to her to confess and vent, she can never do the same for herself. She bottles things up, and feel that her own problems pale in comparison to others, and that they will laugh at her, what she believes, petty hopes and fears.

Liv is determined, and once she begins something she will follow it through at all costs. She shows fierce determination, which sometimes makes her do things that are detrimental to her. She is often undecided internally because her set morals do not conform to the times. She is a bit of a paradox in that her morals and beliefs are ever changing because of this, and many choices are straightforward for her. But her decisions are almost instantaneous and are followed with her heart. She is terribly proud, and proper. Her speech is old fashioned and ornamented. Liv is overly compassionate and empathetic. It has been attributed to her talent in the past, but she would be that way even without it.

.__{{T H E Fairytale
.Family.

.Father. Petro Jamieldan
.Mother. Jezibel Jamieldan
.Siblings. Jacezon Jamieldan

.History.

Liv was born to a relatively wealthy family living on the outskirts of Du Aurella. Her father Petro was an esteemed swordsman from a respected family, member's of the king's court, and her mother Jezibel was an entertainer. Her mother's profession had never been approved of by her husband's old fashioned family. They looked down upon Jezibel as a common harlot. Jezibel tried her best to live up to her family, and to make her in-laws proud, but nothing she did helped. This did not stop her from trying to raise her children in a way her husband's family would approve.

{Jezibel was never happy with her high class family. She loved Petro terribly, but did not feel at home in his lifestyle. After having her first child, Jacezon, with Petro, Jezibel continued to grow restless in the upper-crust environment. This was what led her to Rayne. She began to see Him in secret just after Jace turned five. She continued her secret relationship for years, visiting Rayne in whenever she got the chance. They first were only friends, a way for Jezibel to get away from her family, but their relationship progressed. The two became secret lovers, meeting in the dead of night.}.

Seven years after Jezibel's first child she became pregnant again. Nothing was thought of this, because Jezibel and Petro had had Jacezon when they were in their early twenties, and their relationship was, to the outside world, still in the passionate stages. When the child was born she was christened Olivia Rayne Jamieldan, and given a sterling silver locket, empty, for her to fill with her own memories. It was not until a few days after her birth that something was considered amiss. Where Petro was tanned and had coarse black hair, brown eyes, and strong features, Liv was pale and the fuzz on her head was a light golden color. Even taking into account that Jezibel was paler skinned with coppery gold hair and blue eyes, Liv should not have turned out the way she did. It was hoped that Liv would gain color as she grew, because it was widely known that baby's lack the proper pigment in their skin at birth.

But Liv never changed to fit her family's mold. She saw nothing wrong with it, though she often wondered why she did not look like her older brother with his dark eyes and red-brown hair; she never gave it much thought. It wasn't until she turned five that she truly felt the stigma. One day while she was out with a number of the other children her age playing a game with a stick and a ball her perception of herself changed. Several older children in their early teens by the looks of them began to throw small stones at her, and to call her names. The name they used was "Bastard child". Jacezon, 12 at the time, chased them away and stopped Liv's crying. When she had calmed down that night at home she asked her mother and father what a bastard child was. They never told her, but it pulled the first thread out of their marriage.

The tensions between her mother and father were ever growing. They had a terrible argument on the night of Liv's sixth birthday, ending with Petro leaving in a huff. He never cam back.{When Petro left the household he went for a long walk. While on that walk he was attacked by two Order Members. They hated him for his association with the hated King Osirus, and wanted to make him pay. They beat him, and left him to die. By the time he was found the next morning it was too late. The king himself sent messengers to Petro and Jezibel's home, to tell her of the terrible news, for Petro had been one of his greatest warriors, and Jacezon was slated to follow in his footsteps. She told Jacezon, but felt that Liv was young enough to forget her father.}
After Petro died the family was never quite whole again. His parents disowned the single mother and her children, leaving them on the street. {Jezibel looked for Rayne every night while Jace and Liv slept curled together in their small hovel, but he was never found. When the child was born he had left the Royal city, not wanting the responsibility of raising a baby or the stigma of impregnating a married woman. Jezibel was left to provide for her children in any way possible, intensifying her title as a harlot. She managed to keep Liv and Jace in a small hut, working as an entertainer by day and a street walker by night.}
Jace, who was old enough to link the names hurled at Liv with her appearance and his parent's failing, never forgave their mother for what she had done. At first he held it against Liv as well. But she would cry and hit him with her tiny fists, each hit hurting her more than it hurt him. So he forgave her. He had known it was never her fault, but it felt god to have someone to blame. But it did not feel good to blame Liv. So, with Jacezon's forgiveness the two children grew closer to each other than any others in the world. They often shared a bond that made their mother jealous.

Jezibel watched her children bonding, and realized that she was left out of their world. When the young Liv's gift began acting up she went to Jace. When Jace had a problem with a girl, he went to his sister, nearly half his age. As Liv grew up Jezibel watched from the sidelines. She had hoped it would never end up like this. Make no mistake Liv loved her mother. She loved her dearly, just not as fiercely as she loved her brother. Theirs was a bond that could never break. When Jacezon turned sixteen his sister was nine. He was, as had been expected, chosen to begin training in his father's memory, to become a knight for King Osirus and left home. Liv was then, for the first time in her life, really alone.
Over a year later, when Liv was almost eleven, and Jace had almost finished his training, while Liv was going to school Jace came to her in secret. He met her outside of the building she learned in, heavily disguised. He wrapped his arms around her for a long time, brushing away her tears. She asked him many questions, but he quieted her. He told her that what the King and his officials stood for and beleived was wrong, and that he needed to stop it. He said it was dangerous, but he could not let it go on. He told her he had found a group of people with similar interests, but he would not extrapolate it for her. He promised he would come back, pressed a rose into the small girl's hand, and left to go through with it.

When the news came that a small band of rebels stemming form the highest ranks of the King's army had attemptesd to stage some sort of coup and had been dealt with in the King's usual style, the two women were not terribly concerned. Jezibel ahd always believed in the King's rule and had never expected her son to oppose him. Later, the names were given, and Jacezon was one named. {The young soldiers had not been killed, contrary to what the grapevine and official announcements said, but had been forced to begin the process of "reintergration". This process, a mix of torture and brainwashing, returned them to the ranks of the King, happier than ever to serve in his evil plan. They became terrible fighting machines, no feelings, only pain.} Liv cried for weeks, not only because he was gone, but because he had promised to come back. Jezibel tried to console her daughter, but nothing worked. In the next few months she learned to hide her feelings, and to build a shell.

As she grew she never forgot her brother. She began to notice all the things wrong with the things she knew, the world she lived in, the things her brother must have seen. She tried to se=peak with her mother about it, but Jezibel was either too scared or too loyal to entertain her daughter’s traitorous thoughts. Liv began to alienate from her mother, eve further than she had when Jace and she had been together. Jezibel watched her daughter get further away, but seemed to believe it was her grieving process. She had no idea what her child was planning.

The people in the King’s court had thrown the older woman out when her husband had died, but Liv was accepted in the halls of Osirus. Those in power had noted her talent; they watched her grow, all but salivating to enlist her in the ranks of those who supported the king. At the age of sixteen she was approached by a man who promised her a bright future, free of the stigmas of her past if she agreed to help the King. She told the man she would think about it, but recognized that it was not really an invitation, but an order. She now understood what her brother had meant when he said those people were wrong. She agreed. The girl, newly sixteen, decided she had to run.
She told her mother of the offer, and Jezibel thought she should take it. Liv, disillusioned and hurt, refused. Instead she packed her bags and ran. She planned to meet up with the people whom her brother had found who believed in what he believed, but she ahd no idea where to look.

.__{{T H E End
.Role Play Sample.

Once again he is dreaming.

The woman’s face, thin, with long black hair falling out of a formal up-do full of curls, stares at the young man with empty eyes. The line of the neck is fractured, body one way crumpled on the ground, head and vacant face at an odd angle. The beautiful woman whispers so the young man has to bend near her to understand. Her mouth does not move, and her dead eyes do not falter in their blank stare. The young man, nearly the spitting image of the dead woman on the plush carpeting, listens intently to the woman, face a mask of confusion. He recognizes himself in the woman, but cannot place her face.

The word she is repeating over and over again finally pierces the young man’s consciousness. “Cass… Cass...” It does not mean anything to the boy, but sends shivers down his spine. The word seems to affect the young man on a visceral level, though he doesn’t understand its significance. The word -or a name perhaps?- hits a chord in the young man’s soul. He looks at the woman in confusion, at the curls spilled out of her tight bun, at the liquid caramel eyes, at the thin peachy lips. He squats down to better hear the woman. By now her mantra has changed. A new word -or name?- has been added. “Cass… Belleza…” The young man feels a tightening feeling in his chest as the new words come. These names should mean something to him, he knew it.

As he tries to think, the woman begins to scream, mouth unmoving and eyes blank. Her scream is that of a wounded animal, but then changes. This time, it is the hurt, angry voice of a child. The young man starts, recognizing the last voice. The little boy, in pain and frightened; the voice of the youth himself. He gasps and stands up, the image breaking up in front of him.

Nathaniel Pierce woke up in a cold sweat, his young scream reverberating in his ears. He blinked his eyes quickly, feeling the clamminess all over his body. He was shaking; his hands balled into fists and his blankets disturbed. The young man took shuttering breaths, covering his scarred bared chest with the thin sheet he clutched. Deep breaths followed, calming the youth.

With a final breath the young man pulled himself out of his dorm bed and staggerd to his closet. His roommate was conviently absent, much to the young man’s pleasure. The aftermath of the dream could be considered weakness; the youth hated weakness. Content with being alone Nat opened his closet and shoved through the pin straight clothing to find a white dress shirt, tailored to accent his shape, and black slacks. He stepped into the latter and pulled the former over his head. A tanned hand pulled a black suit jacket out of the closet and threw it over a shoulder. Two shaky breaths later and the youth exited his room, heading toward the Lavatory.

As he placed a hand on the knob to the door Nat took a final calming breath and turned it. As the door opened he arranged his face into a mask of Haughtiness and calm, hazel eyes blank. A few steps and he reached a sink/mirror station. Hands, still trembling slightly, turned the tap on the old sink, allowing water to pool in the sink. He reached into the water and cupped an amount in his hands, splashing it over his face and head. A hand raked through course back hair. The young man finally looked up to see his reflection in the mirror. The eyes looked haunted and sunken, but with a few rubs and splashes of water the young man’s normal face remerged. He sighed, content, and returned to washing his face, careful to keep his collar dry.

.How did you find this site?Lord in Heaven I have No Idea

[Israfel Deu Ausgard]

Fantastic. I know you had some issues earlier, but if you run into any trouble, just ask me. ^_^ Accepted! Sorry for the wait...