Post by Mariska on Aug 31, 2011 20:27:18 GMT -8
Name: Mariska Setep
Also Known As: Mariska, Ska if you are very close with her
Age: 18
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 125 lbs
Blood Type: AB
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Asexual unless a person truely confuses and interests her, in which case she is straight
Eye Color: Yellow
Hair: Reddish Brown [Auburn]
Hobbies: Sleeping; Reading; Writing; Doodling pictures of her surroundings in her notebook
Talents: Tying knots; Stacking objects on top of eachother; Creating ways to blow smoke rings
Likes: Silky ribbon; Her red angora sweater; The sound nice shoes make on asphalt at late hours of the night; The fear and excitement one feels during a game of hide and seek at night; People watching; Blanket cuccoons; Cats; Zebra print; That feeling when someone in a conversation has said something horribly wrong and another person will make them pay; The smell of new books; Infomercials; Arguing, if the person is worth her time; Iambic pentameter; Pointed objects that can be used as weapons; The smell of the air at night in October; Graphic novels; Graphic movies; Books about death or drug addiction in which the main character does not escape their fate or their addiction; Orange flavored lollipops; Indigo, her rat; Silence
Dislikes: When people talk at her without any kind of point to what they're saying; When people believe she cares about their problems when she most certainly does not; The weird greenish yellow of "fancy" mustard; Burns; Braided hair; When the air makes her lip split because it's too dry out; Couple-y couples; Foods that are made to taste like other foods; The smell of sharpie markers; Becoming happy with something she has been working hard on only to realize she's forgotten a crucial detail; When people wear those baggy hats in such a way that it accentuates the bagginess of the hat and the lumpiness of their head; The smell of mayonaisse; Nonspecific feelings of dread; When residue from working with wet clay gets on her hands and onto everything in the general vicinity of her; The smell of decomposition; Unnecessarily small versions of objects
Sports/Clubs: Mariska does not believe a person should run unless they're being chased, or are doing the chasing.
Personality: Mariska is a reclusive young woman, who does not care much at all for talking to people. She normally prefers the company of her pet rat that she calls Indigo, and will promptly silence anyone making unwanted noise at her. She enjoys watching violence occur but out of apathy will not frequently cause it to happen. She tends to have conversations with herself that happen entirely in her head, and she will not tolerate foolishness or shenanigans of any kind.
Mentality: Mariska believes that people get in the way of the things you want and need, so she does her best to not get terribly close with anyone who could have the opportunity to get in the way. However, she will not hesitate to use people to clear the way to what she wants.
Ideal: "One has some form of control in any situation."
Belief: None.
Build: Very little muscle mass, with an average to thin body structure.
Defining Marks: None.
Description: Mariska is not a terribly tall being, standing at 5'5". Her messy hair is generally always worn down, barely swept out of her face.
Head Gear: None
Shirts: White tank top completely covered by a loose fitting, deep red angora sweater
Pants: Dark grey jeans
Shoes: None
Fighting Style: Desperate Panic/Animalistic
Years Practiced: 3
Description of style: Mariska always does her best to stay out of actual fights. Normally, she might be an orchestrator or observer but when absolutely necessary she will engage in a fight. Her fighting style consists of her clawing, biting, kicking, and scratching at any unprotected skin she can. Fighting is a last resort, so it reflects in her style.
History:
Aged 12: One morning she awoke, dazed and afraid. She couldn�t remember who she was or where she was. She fought back tears as she gazed around the disheveled studio apartment. She stumbled to the middle of the room and thought �God is this all there is?� The room contained a dirty couch, which the young girl sat on, a full length mirror, and various articles of clothing strewn about the room as if they had been removed from a bag in a great hurry. Something was missing. At her age shouldn't there still be people supervising her? How rude to leave without telling the girl. How rude of them to leave without telling the girl who she was, where she was, and what was going on. She began to dig through the pile of clothing, hoping to find a pair of pants to exchange for the ill-fitting shorts she currently wore. The view outside the window told her that pants were a much better fashion choice for this kind of weather. She slid the jeans on and walked to the mirror. The reflection of a pre-pubescent girl stared back. �Oh.� As far as she could tell, she was perhaps 12. She wore an oversized red sweater and her auburn hair hung in messy waves past her shoulders. Piercing yellow eyes stared back at her. The girl checked the pockets of the black jeans, looking for any clue as to what was going on. From the front left pocket she pulled a piece of paper. In a feminine handwriting, the words �Goodbye Mariska� were scrawled carelessly across the stationary. The top of the paper�s letterhead said �Motel 6� with an address indicating their location to be in Oregon. She took a step but then felt tired. She thought she�d rest a little while. To nobody who she could remember, she spoke: �Goodbye.�
Aged 18: When she tried to walk again, she wasn�t a child. Mariska, as the letter indicated and as she had been calling herself for 6 years, arrived in the hot wasteland called California. A beige backpack was slung over her left shoulder, a white and brown rat roosting on the other. She stepped quietly off of the bus and walked down the street. She wasn�t sure what compelled her to move to Long Beach, but she already regretted the decision already. The little rat clung tightly to the slightly faded red sweater. He was called Indigo, though he was clearly not blue. She didn�t know why she named him that, but it was fitting enough. The pair walked down the street, while everyone hurried fast, none smiling. Minutes later they came upon an apartment building looking for tenants. She had enrolled in the school not far from here and thought it convenient. Walking into the manager�s office, she paid her rent for the next 6 months in advance. She would not stand for petty disturbances over rent. A short, balding man with an oily complexion showed her to the studio apartment she had rented, Indigo now hiding snugly in her sweater. She opened the door. �God this is all there is?� Blue walls, blue floors. She closed the door behind her and sat on the cool tile floor.
Type of residence: Studio apartment
Roommates: Her rat Indigo, but he doesn't pay rent because he is a rat. He can't even work.
Cases Against The Faculty: 0
Cases Of Hurting Students: 0
Stats:
Strength: 8
Dexterity: 22
Constitution: 15
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 15
Charisma: 20
No I don't want to dance with the cookie
Also Known As: Mariska, Ska if you are very close with her
Age: 18
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 125 lbs
Blood Type: AB
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Asexual unless a person truely confuses and interests her, in which case she is straight
Eye Color: Yellow
Hair: Reddish Brown [Auburn]
Hobbies: Sleeping; Reading; Writing; Doodling pictures of her surroundings in her notebook
Talents: Tying knots; Stacking objects on top of eachother; Creating ways to blow smoke rings
Likes: Silky ribbon; Her red angora sweater; The sound nice shoes make on asphalt at late hours of the night; The fear and excitement one feels during a game of hide and seek at night; People watching; Blanket cuccoons; Cats; Zebra print; That feeling when someone in a conversation has said something horribly wrong and another person will make them pay; The smell of new books; Infomercials; Arguing, if the person is worth her time; Iambic pentameter; Pointed objects that can be used as weapons; The smell of the air at night in October; Graphic novels; Graphic movies; Books about death or drug addiction in which the main character does not escape their fate or their addiction; Orange flavored lollipops; Indigo, her rat; Silence
Dislikes: When people talk at her without any kind of point to what they're saying; When people believe she cares about their problems when she most certainly does not; The weird greenish yellow of "fancy" mustard; Burns; Braided hair; When the air makes her lip split because it's too dry out; Couple-y couples; Foods that are made to taste like other foods; The smell of sharpie markers; Becoming happy with something she has been working hard on only to realize she's forgotten a crucial detail; When people wear those baggy hats in such a way that it accentuates the bagginess of the hat and the lumpiness of their head; The smell of mayonaisse; Nonspecific feelings of dread; When residue from working with wet clay gets on her hands and onto everything in the general vicinity of her; The smell of decomposition; Unnecessarily small versions of objects
Sports/Clubs: Mariska does not believe a person should run unless they're being chased, or are doing the chasing.
Personality: Mariska is a reclusive young woman, who does not care much at all for talking to people. She normally prefers the company of her pet rat that she calls Indigo, and will promptly silence anyone making unwanted noise at her. She enjoys watching violence occur but out of apathy will not frequently cause it to happen. She tends to have conversations with herself that happen entirely in her head, and she will not tolerate foolishness or shenanigans of any kind.
Mentality: Mariska believes that people get in the way of the things you want and need, so she does her best to not get terribly close with anyone who could have the opportunity to get in the way. However, she will not hesitate to use people to clear the way to what she wants.
Ideal: "One has some form of control in any situation."
Belief: None.
Build: Very little muscle mass, with an average to thin body structure.
Defining Marks: None.
Description: Mariska is not a terribly tall being, standing at 5'5". Her messy hair is generally always worn down, barely swept out of her face.
Head Gear: None
Shirts: White tank top completely covered by a loose fitting, deep red angora sweater
Pants: Dark grey jeans
Shoes: None
Fighting Style: Desperate Panic/Animalistic
Years Practiced: 3
Description of style: Mariska always does her best to stay out of actual fights. Normally, she might be an orchestrator or observer but when absolutely necessary she will engage in a fight. Her fighting style consists of her clawing, biting, kicking, and scratching at any unprotected skin she can. Fighting is a last resort, so it reflects in her style.
History:
Aged 12: One morning she awoke, dazed and afraid. She couldn�t remember who she was or where she was. She fought back tears as she gazed around the disheveled studio apartment. She stumbled to the middle of the room and thought �God is this all there is?� The room contained a dirty couch, which the young girl sat on, a full length mirror, and various articles of clothing strewn about the room as if they had been removed from a bag in a great hurry. Something was missing. At her age shouldn't there still be people supervising her? How rude to leave without telling the girl. How rude of them to leave without telling the girl who she was, where she was, and what was going on. She began to dig through the pile of clothing, hoping to find a pair of pants to exchange for the ill-fitting shorts she currently wore. The view outside the window told her that pants were a much better fashion choice for this kind of weather. She slid the jeans on and walked to the mirror. The reflection of a pre-pubescent girl stared back. �Oh.� As far as she could tell, she was perhaps 12. She wore an oversized red sweater and her auburn hair hung in messy waves past her shoulders. Piercing yellow eyes stared back at her. The girl checked the pockets of the black jeans, looking for any clue as to what was going on. From the front left pocket she pulled a piece of paper. In a feminine handwriting, the words �Goodbye Mariska� were scrawled carelessly across the stationary. The top of the paper�s letterhead said �Motel 6� with an address indicating their location to be in Oregon. She took a step but then felt tired. She thought she�d rest a little while. To nobody who she could remember, she spoke: �Goodbye.�
Aged 18: When she tried to walk again, she wasn�t a child. Mariska, as the letter indicated and as she had been calling herself for 6 years, arrived in the hot wasteland called California. A beige backpack was slung over her left shoulder, a white and brown rat roosting on the other. She stepped quietly off of the bus and walked down the street. She wasn�t sure what compelled her to move to Long Beach, but she already regretted the decision already. The little rat clung tightly to the slightly faded red sweater. He was called Indigo, though he was clearly not blue. She didn�t know why she named him that, but it was fitting enough. The pair walked down the street, while everyone hurried fast, none smiling. Minutes later they came upon an apartment building looking for tenants. She had enrolled in the school not far from here and thought it convenient. Walking into the manager�s office, she paid her rent for the next 6 months in advance. She would not stand for petty disturbances over rent. A short, balding man with an oily complexion showed her to the studio apartment she had rented, Indigo now hiding snugly in her sweater. She opened the door. �God this is all there is?� Blue walls, blue floors. She closed the door behind her and sat on the cool tile floor.
Type of residence: Studio apartment
Roommates: Her rat Indigo, but he doesn't pay rent because he is a rat. He can't even work.
Cases Against The Faculty: 0
Cases Of Hurting Students: 0
Stats:
Strength: 8
Dexterity: 22
Constitution: 15
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 15
Charisma: 20
| Slot | Item(s) |
| Head | |
| Hat/Bandana | Row 19 Column 2 |
| Earrings | Row 20 Column 2 |
| Glasses | Row 21 Column 2 |
| [/td | |
| Torso | |
| Shirt | Row 2 Column 2 |
| Jacket/Coat | Row 3 Column 2 |
| Necklace | Row 4 Column 2 |
| [/td | |
| Arms | |
| Arm | Row 6 Column 2 |
| Wrist | Row 7 Column 2 |
| Gloves | Row 8 Column 2 |
| Ring | Row 9 Column 2 |
| [/td | |
| Legs | |
| Pants | Row 11 Column 2 |
| Shin | Row 12 Column 2 |
| Shoes | Row 13 Column 2 |
| Belt | Row 14 Column 2 |
| [/td | |
| Misc | |
| 1 | Row 16 Column 2 |
| 2 | Row 17 Column 2 |
No I don't want to dance with the cookie
Qi is locked until player reaches mod-approved milestone.
Ice Queen
Qi Description | This elemental ice-based Qi, when in its active state, has the ability to not only be an active assist in a fight but also possesses some minor healing abilities.
Qi Strengths | A layer of ice can help Mariska pack a mean punch in addition to allowing her opponent some rather interesting feeling ice splinters should it shatter on impact. If she is wounded, a small sheet of ice may form over it, helping to slow bleeding until actual medical attention is received.
Qi Weaknesses | The weight of the ice slows Mariska’s punches down slightly, and she too is susceptible to the splintering of the ice if it were to shatter. In addition to this, not taking proper care while ice is on a wound could result in further damage to the wound or a separate one caused by splintered ice.
Tier 1 | When activated during a fight, a thin layer of ice forms over her fist and forearms, allowing for a slightly more powerful punch as well as a somewhat functional shield when her arms are held in a defensive position. Her fingers will maintain their existence as articulated, but not to the degree as when they are thawed out. The ice is subject to shattering if the impact is too hard, both in attacking and defensive usages.
Tier 2 | In addition to a layer of ice forming on her arms, if she is also utilizing her feet for kicking techniques, the ice may form over her feet as well. If she so chooses, the ice may become thicker and therefore stronger, but the increased weight will slow her down. Along with this, should she be injured in a fight, a very thin sheet of ice forms over the wound, helping to stop the bleeding.
