♦ - the character storage { confidence }

[confidence]

& - h e r e - I - a m -

I've never considered making a thread for my own Character Sheets - until I realized
I had a handful of characters created for roleplays that ultimately failed. Call me a fool, but
I felt bad for the characters that never saw the ending to the lives I had created for them.
Thus, a storage for character sheets was born.

& - h e r e ' s - h o w - i t - g o e s -

{ CHARACTER SHEET }
{ ROLEPLAY }
{ EXAMPLE POST IF AVAILABLE }

& - h e r e - t h e y - a r e -

P R I N C E S S - A R I E L

SIXTEEN YEARS OLD | FEMALE |

Origin:

The Little Mermaid, alternate version; more information in History

Occupation:

Patient

Theme Song:

Mad World, by Alex Parks

History // Personality:

"Once upon a time, there was a girl named Ariel. She was the daughter of King Triton, a princess, the youngest princess. She had six older sisters, all lovely with beautiful singing voices, but Ariel was the loveliest of them all. Her voice was rich and as pure as she was; they say her first cry as an infant was not a wail, but a lovely high C. She was innocent and playful, sweet and curious, especially about the human world. But her father hated humans, and forbid Ariel from venturing beyond their underwater palace. For a long time, she obeyed faithfully, until her fifteenth birthday. She was at her birthday party, a grand festival which everyone in the ocean attended. But she got lost, and ended up at the sea witch's cave. She was frightened, but she was a brave young girl, and she ventured further. The sea witch found her, and seemed to know all about her desires. She captured Ariel's heart and imagination with clever words and painted pictures and tricky magic, until Ariel couldn't do anything but give her voice in return for beautiful legs. In an hour's time, she was lying on the sand, with long, smooth legs that never grew a hair, not once. She awoke naked; ashamed, she pulled seaweed around her body. She sat there for a long while, until the prince found her.


Ah, the prince. The prince! He was tall, and beautiful, and kind, too. He took Ariel in, and she soon fell in love with him. In fact, she was already in love with him. They had met in the past before, you see. Exactly a year earlier, the prince had drowned, just as Ariel was roaming about the palace, searching for something to do. She saw the prince's figure, and rescued him. But alas, he was dead. To bring him back to life, she sang over him. She kept his head above water and began to sing; a song like it could never be imitated, and as much as Ariel attempted, she couldn't, either. It was a song to bring breath back into a body, and it worked; the prince opened his eyes and began to sputter, staring up at Ariel the whole time. She was beautiful, he must have thought. She smiled at him; he was beautiful too, she must have thought. She let him go and dove underwater, leaving the prince dazed and confused, but conscious enough to swim back to shore, humming Ariel's song to himself. He had never forgotten her, and alas, he had found her! He tried to get her name, but in vain; she could not speak, and more importantly, she could not sing.


Disappointed but kind nevertheless, the prince kept her as a companion. And with each day they spent together, the more deeply she fell in love with him. But he had given his heart to the enchanting song that had saved his life, and Ariel could not be the girl he was looking for, if she could not sing. She stayed with him for a year, sad but hopeful, praying every night that he would recognize her, somehow understand. The moment she turned sixteen, she woke with a start, a heavy pain in her chest and a great sensation in her legs. 'Your time is up,' she could hear the sea witch cackling.'Your time is up! Your time is up! Your time is up! Your time is...' The horrid words rang and rang and rang, and the next moment, Ariel was in the sea witch's cave.


'What happened?' Ariel demanded, trembling but bold, still. Her voice, her beautiful voice, had finally come back to her, but she was too distressed to even notice.


'Mind your manners, girl!' the sea witch said lightly, floating about the cave, doing nothing but aggravating Ariel.


'Give it back! Give me back my legs!'


'What do you want more, girl? Your legs? Or your prince?'


'My legs! My legs! I want my legs!' Ariel cried carelessly. The sea witch laughed, and the more Ariel demanded her legs back, the louder her guffaws became.


'You want to be a human again, girl? More than your prince? Alright, then! Here, girl!' The sea witch threw a knife at Ariel, who grabbed its handle automatically. It was not her quick reactions; it was magic that had drawn her palm to this strange knife, its handle deep sea green and its blade purple. 'You want legs, girl? Then you must kill your prince.'


Ariel began to weep, her shoulders shaking violently. She wept for a great deal of time, holding on to the knife so tightly her knuckles turned white. The sea witch merely laughed, laughed, laughed. Hours passed. A day. Two days. Finally, Ariel raised her head and studied the knife, turning it over in her hands. 'And if I decide not to kill the prince?'


The sea witch smirked. 'Once you truly make that decision, the knife will show you the consequences, and ask you to decide again.'


Now truly terrified, Ariel sped out of the cave, strange laughter following her, resounding in her ears and slim body even after she was far away from the sea witch's cave. She swam to the shore, and watched the prince search the beach. For her. He was weeping. He was shouting. He was looking around frantically, as if he'd been there thousands of times before. Ariel felt her heart breaking, her hand trembling, and her tail becoming heavier and heavier. She looked at the knife, and begged it to give her another way.


'You don't want to kill the prince?' Ariel gasped, when she heard the whisper in her ear. She glanced down at the knife, but the knife showed no signs of change, much less of speaking. But she assumed it was the knife; it had to be.


'Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes,' Ariel begged.


Images began to flash. She saw herself, plunging the knife deep within her chest. She saw herself, dying, turning into foam, drifting, wandering, lost for the rest of her days; never fully dead as long as the prince, her ultimate sacrifice, lived on. She was lonely, and the prince was lonely, but at least... at least he was alive, she thought. Ariel decided thenm, without thinking much on it. She said a silent goodbye to all the things she loved: her father, her sisters, her prince, the smell of flowers in bloom... and plunged the knife into her tail, instead. She couldn't bring herself to allow all of the vision to come to pass; call it superstition, but she feared loneliness most of all.


But instead, she became an angel. An angel who would watch over children and keep them safe from harm, nurture them with a gentle but invisible hand, unnoticed by most, though at times, she was told, a rare individual could see through the guise and look straight into her eyes, and her heart. For centuries, she was an angel. She began to enjoy it. Her prince was dead, she assumed, and she smiled wistfully every time she saw a couple fall in love. She watched them carefully; she acted as their guardian, she liked to think. But eventually, Ariel became bitter. She mourned the loss of her own love. She cursed the sea witch. She wept angrily. And eventually, God grabbed her wings, plucked them off painfully, and threw her down to Far Far Away. She had lost her wings, her eyes lost most of its clear, striking blue and melted to silver, and her hair became brighter red, as opposed to the gentle strawberry blonde she was accustomed to. The song she sang to the prince began to haunt her, and she ran from it everywhere she went, crying about a cursed melody. It was the fire in her soul, the ultimate sin, the price to pay for her selfishness. But the more time she spent on land, the more deranged she became, until she finally ran into the sea, shouting of true love and tragedy, until she collapsed. She woke up in Ever After.


This is not a story of happily ever after, it's a story of being too late. It's a story of human nature, how one's soul blackens when they realize the misfortune that has befallen them. And it is a true story, I promise you.'

Psychological Disorders:

Ariel has hallucinations, in which she sees multiple characters of her past, going after them and talking to them, acting with them, etc. These hallucinations can last for days. She plays with knives whenever she can, though she's never attempted to kill herself. She claws at people's backs, trying to pluck out wings that aren't there. Whenever she is not playing with knives or talking, she sings the song she sang to the Prince, though not quite so beautiful. It now sounded haunted, long and almost beautiful in its sorrow, if she didn't look so strange while singing it.

Powers & Abilities:

Her appearance changes to match the stages of her life, when she goes through certain disorders. When she has is playing with knives, she can't walk, and is constantly weeping. When she is clawing at people's backs, she looks positively angelic. She also has the power of music, only this time, she kills people with a certain song - though, thankfully, she hasn't discovered it, she is much too insane to ever think about the effect her songs have on people (people become gloomy, feeling a little tormented and burdened; there are, of course, steps to overcome this effect. They can block their ears or distract themselves from it. It's not a strong ability, her song, but it's a subtle one that can become strong if you are too entranced by the song).

Villain(s):

U R S U L A - t h e - S E A - W I T C H

Ursula has a gift with magic. She was once a beautiful mermaid herself, with a sweet, doe-like face. She was sent to Atlantica to study with mermaids, to master magic and to study them. Her mother had high hopes for Ursula; she wanted Ursula to become the evil villianess she never had the talent to be. But Ursula, she was gifted from the start. Ursula became popular with the other girls. She stayed with King Poseidon and his son, Triton. Her mother couldn't afford to give Ursula the transportation she needed to travel to the school, and used her various connections to get Ursula a job as a maid there. Ursula actually came from quite a popular family; her mother had wanted to be evil, for the sake of her own mother, who remains an evil legend even now, but never succeeded. Instead, her mother immersed herself in gaining friends and a great reputation, so she could attack the mermaids from the inside. Her daughter was the answer to all of her mischievous schemes. Ursula eventually got pregnant by Triton, who was even better looking as a teenager. But Triton abandoned her and turned everyone against her to hide his deed, and Ursula came back home, bitter and talented and with a child. She loved him. She named him Neptune, but he was a weak, frail baby. He was dying by the age of two. She decided to use magic to save him, but here was the most important rule of underwater magic: no magic can be done without a price. When she shape shifted, she had to give up a lock of hair, a small price to pay for such a small class assignment. But magic was clever; it understood the motives, the circumstances, and more importantly, the energy required. She gave up her beautiful tail, a shining navy, and received horrid tentacles instead, clumsy and awkward and gruesome. But the healthier Neptune got, the less attention he required, and Ursula began to long for power. Complete power. Revenge against Triton. So she decided to use a darker spell, one from ages ago, one that her own grandmother used. The spell would make her invincible in magic and in life. She paid her mother for it; her mother was already old, and dying, though Ursula never stopped wanting her comfort after she was gone. But then she had to go out, conquer the ocean. So she used her magic to create a safe haven for Neptune, unbreakable, one that would even keep Neptune at the tender age of five, as she went off and destroyed Triton. But the price to be paid was her own heart. It was the ultimate spell, the ultimate protection; what else could be expected? So she gave it up. She went after Triton's daughter, and she never regretted it, and she never died. But she soon forgot about Neptune. She thought towards him bitterly.


And still, Neptune remained in his safe room, wailing for a mother long gone.

ROLEPLAY: Ever After; a mental institute full of fairytale characters gone wrong.

M i r i a m - W i l d e r
twenty five | female | the whore

and my brief history =

Getting married at twenty two had been Miriam's dream all of her life. As a child, she planned her wedding with flourish. She reenacted scenes with her boy next door, experimenting the different ways to say "I do." She doodled engagement rings and dresses, outrageous skirts and daring ruffles. Her family hoped that she would outgrow this unprecedented obsession with weddings, but she never did. The older she became, the more she became a contrast to this girly fantasy; by the age of 17, her figure and her 'wedding fever' was the only feminine thing she could claim to. She became a soccer goalie, fiercely protecting the vast space behind her. She relied on her instincts, jumping and bruising and bleeding for the sake of one prevented goal; it became her identity, 'the goalie.' She dreamed of winning the World Cup. She trained herself harder than any other player; in her opinion, she had the most critical and difficult job. She held the fate of the game in her glove-covered hands, and she controlled it by keeping the ball away from what was behind her. In other words, she was the guarder of what she couldn't see. It was necessary for her to become one with her surroundings, to get familiar with everything, from the feel of the soccer ball in her hands, to the grass beneath her cleats. She had an instinct for survival, Miriam had always told people. But the years went by and she graduated from soccer, played soccer for a state university, and never made it to the World Cup. She sank deeper and deeper, until she was kicked out of her home, and kicked out of her school. She had only been 21. She decided to marry the boy next door, who had practiced wedding her thousands of times; it couldn't be different from the real thing, Miriam had thought. The two of them wed on a beautiful summer day, only six weeks after her 22nd birthday. It should have been smooth sailing from there; after all, she had gotten her childhood dream. But every opinion she had conflicted with his, and less than two years later, she ran away to the city of Renmarc. She lived homeless for two months until a wealthy man took her in. She had mistaken it for kindness, but he had asked for sex in return the next morning. Humiliated, she slapped him, crying tears of bitterness. The slap only aroused the man, and what happened next became the start of her career as a prostitute.


and my weapon = Miriam has only one possession of her own, other than the clothes on her back: a hand mirror with a simple design and intricate engravings across its back. Its reflection is murky, but she keeps it for the sake of having something beautiful of her own. At random situations of extreme danger and stress, it begins to reflect light in such a manner that blinds other creatures; if used properly, the mirorr can serve as a communication device. However, the mirror is ancient; it has forgotten how to work even itself, and only a creature as ancient as the mirror may learn to use it perfectly.


and my power = x x x


and my past = It was Miriam's capacity for imagining weddings that created a surprisingly strong connection to Fae. She entered a world of freedom, where clouds talked and birds sang of true love. She drowned in the pleasure of finding perfection. At first, soccer did little to inhibit her love of the Fae world. The sound of a cheering crowd or the healthy slap of gloved hands catching a soccer ball became her new lullaby, the birds' new song, and she began to try playing soccer in the Fae world, asking the grass to keep her updated on what was happening on the field when her eyesight failed her. Things were different in Fae. Her father didn't wait for her at the door, just to see her grades, and her mother was healthy, and AIDS didn't exist. She was happy. But the more passionate she became for soccer, the more infatuated she became with her dreams of winning the World Cup, the more Fae began to fade, and for once, Miriam didn't care much about the ultimate golden fantasy, about the Dreams that made her hope. Her mother became healthy, her father began to encourage Miriam in soccer rather than grades, and for once, Miriam decided, her life was better than Fae. Because after all, her life was real; Fae wasn't. Or at least, that's what she had decided when she turned 11.

ROLEPLAY: The Faeland