Post by nouveauchevall on Apr 17, 2012 18:58:29 GMT -5
Lyra | Jenna | Wright
[/center]» BIRTH NAME ' WRIGHT, LYRA JENNA
» NICK NAMES ' Ly, LJ.
» AGE ' 19
» SEXUALITY ' Straight
» CAMP ' Dorothy Camp
» HEIGHT ' 5'8"
» WEIGHT ' 143 lbs
» EYES ' Hazel
» HAIR ' Brown
» DISTINCTIVE FEATURES '
» DRESSING STYLE ' Punk/military
» PLAY BY ' JoJo Levesque
» Lyra LIKES '
- Knives
- Guns
- Flirting
- Violence
- Sarcasm
»Lyra DISLIKES '
- Pastels
- Classical music
- Math
- Authority
- Cats
» STRENGTHS '
- Physical strength
- Fighting skills
- Intelligence
» WEAKNESS '
- Logic
- Temper
- Acts before she thinks
» QUIRKS ' Lyra has a severe fear of heights. Also, she hates turtles.
» FEARS ' Turtles. Heights. Her father.
» AMBITION ' To survive.
» HOMETOWN ' Boston, Massachusetts.
» PARENTS ' Dead and gone.
» SIBLINGS ' None.
» SIGNIFICANT OTHERS ' None.
» OVERALL HISTORICAL BACKGROUND '
Lyra was born in Boston, Mass, on the outskirts. The bad area. She grew up in a small, two bedroom, half bath house with just her, her father, and her mother. He father was a severe drunk, and her mother did drugs. Her father had no job to support his unfortunate habits, so Lyra had to steal things to support them. She ran away after her father started beating her and her mother, and soon got caught for stealing. She was put in the Juvenile Detention Facility with a choice. Stay and do her time, or enlist in the army. She chose the latter. After about a week, she got kicked out for lack of respect. After the attack, she landed where she is now.
» RP POST '
It was the day before the race. There was no way to drive out to the camp, so I had to take a train to the depot, and then ride from the depot to the camp. My horse, I think I should introduce you to him.
He's a pure Arabian stallion. His name is Ramsay, and he's beautiful. He's my favorite. He's a very dark, sooty grey color, with black stockings on all four legs, and white socks on just his back legs. His mane and tail are long, and jet black. His body is in perfect conformation with the Arabian body style. His legs are long, and slender, his body is curvy and muscular, his neck is thick, strong, and arched. One thing is different than most, though. He's 16 hands high. Which, in other words, is tall. Most Arabians are only 15. In other words, he's amazing.
I came riding up to the camp, pulling a camel behind me that was loaded down with most of my stuff. Two saddle bags held the rest of my stuff on Ramsay. I padded over to the area that was saved for me, and started unloading my tent. It wasn't very big, but it gave me room to set up a few things. In one corner I had my blow-up mattress, in another I had my tack, and the other two held my clothes, and food stocks. Once I set up, I walked back outside to see Ramsay.
"Hey, boy. How are you doing?" This was Ramsay's first endurance run. He was seeming slightly homesick. I pulled his face up to look him in the eyes. "I know that you're missing home. I am too. But you've still got me." I looked out at the starting line-- a two huge pillars one either side of a large swath of beige sand, topped with torches--and thought, what have I gotten myself into? I knew no one here, and I doubted my chances as a small girl from the backwoods of Georgia. Everyone here, at this camp in the middle of the Najd desert region, was born and raised here. They live for this race. I guess I was going to have to treat it as much. People stared at me--at my blonde hair, and blue eyes. They also stared at Ramsay. He was a beautiful horse, and no doubt people wanted to take possession of him. I turned my back to them, and looked Ramsay in the eyes. "We'll get 'em, boy."
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