Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Nov 10, 2010 16:41:45 GMT -8
Original Character Application[/u]
Name: Charlotte “Charlie” Jacobs
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Place of Residence: Currently the hotel, room 213. Finds herself considering looking for a more permanent place of residence.
Type of Car: An old black mustang left to her. Named Frank. License plate: CARABAS
Occupation/Skills: Former student (graduated), currently unemployed (but her family left her enough to live off of). Considering looking into applying at the art gallery or one of the bars in Greenvale. Is a decent photographer.
She can make a mean cup of tea, but she drinks coffee and tea in equal measure. Likes trying new things as far as food and beverages go.
Charlotte has a weakness for telenovelas; she can’t understand a word that is said (she chose French in high school, not Spanish), but finds them tremendously fun none-the-less.
Charlotte loves the rain. When she was a child she’d go outside and play whenever there was a downpour. Afterwards she would go inside and her father would fix her a cup of hot chocolate. Then they’d sit down and read. When she was small he’d read to her. But not the typical fare one would usually read to a child. He read her Dune, Dracula, and some of H.P Lovecraft’s stories. And as a result she was usually completely at a loss as to why other children didn’t know who the Fremen were or weren’t familiar with “The Colour Out of Space”. This tradition also led to her becoming an avid reader as she grew up.
She enjoys doing cross word puzzles once and a while, but absolutely hates Sudoku. It’s the math, you see.
Charlotte loves exploring buildings and places. When she does she usually has some sort of camera on her person, in case something catches her eye. Then again, she usually has a camera on her anyway.
When it comes to movies she loves all sorts, but has a very soft spot for B movies. Movies like the Godzilla series and Jesus Christ: Vampire Hunter are right up her alley.
Appearance: Charlotte is white, with curly red/strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. Slim build and around 5’7 in height. She gets her height and her eyes from her father, and her colouring and build from her mother. Usual clothing of choice involves a shirt, jeans, boots and a leather jacket if the weather calls for it.
Her face is heart shaped, and there’s a small scar running just through her right eyebrow from what was dubbed the fireworks incident. There’s another scar on her arm from a dog bite when she was 4 or 5. There’s a faint smattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks, but they’re not really visible unless you’re right next to her.
Her curly red/strawberry blonde hair falls past her shoulder blades and is usually worn down, though she has been known to wear it pulled back or braided. She wears glasses, a pair of cat-eye frames in dark blue. They’re her “librarian glasses”.
She has a tattoo of a flowering vine, starting at her foot/ankle, that winds up her right leg, curves up her hip and onto her back, stopping at her right shoulder. Very similar to this.
Personality: Charlotte is fairly sarcastic at times, especially if she doesn’t know someone. She can be fairly friendly, but very cautious about letting people get close as a result of moving around so much after her father died (for her mother’s new job). What was the point of making friends if only to move away a few months later? So Charlotte instead gained acquaintances wherever she went. People who she got along with well enough to not mind spending some time with them, but never really truly got to know them, or let them get to know her. She also gained an ability to be all right with being alone. Though she has a deep-seated longing for close friends, she’d never admit it.
Charlotte is a smart young woman, though she doesn’t mind playing dumb sometimes, in order to make people underestimate her. She is not all that great at math. It was one of her worst subjects in school, and she had to work her ass off to get any sort of decent passing grade.
Charlotte has an irrational fear of elevators. Something about it being a small enclosed space that moves freaks her out. Oddly enough, enclosed spaces that don’t move don’t bother her at all. She has a slightly more rational fear of large dogs, as when she was young a neighbour’s dog bit her badly.
History: Charlotte’s father Jason Jacobs died when she was 10, and afterwards her mother took a job that involved them having to move regularly. Vanessa Jacobs didn’t need to work, as her husband had left his family very well off, but she wanted to do more than just live off her deceased husband’s money.
Around the time her mother found a job that let her put down roots in North Carolina, Charlotte left for college and majored in ancient/medieval history (Europe) and minored in archaeology. It was after her graduation present of a trip abroad that tragedy struck. Charlotte returned home to find her mother dead. Then the FBI got involved. That’s how she met the agent in charge, one David Young Henning.
After taking care of what needed to be taken care of, she left. She couldn’t stay in the house anymore. Not after her mother had died there. The image of her mother lying sprawled across her desk, papers strewn about and blood smeared across the oak surface haunted her for a long time. Between her father and her mother and the sale of the house she was more than well enough off to not worry about providing for herself for a long while. Time passed, and the pain has eased, though on the anniversary of her death Charlotte is rather melancholy and withdrawn. Though the questions are still unanswered.
A year and a half later Charlotte found herself passing through Greenvale, and found herself a room at the Deer Yard Hotel. Room 213 to be exact. Which is where we find her now, a month or two after arriving in Greenvale and actually considering finding a more permanent place of residence.
RP Sample:
Charlotte dropped down on the couch with a sigh, and flipped the TV on. The problem with insomnia is the sheer lack of interesting distractions she mused silently as channel after channel yielded nothing but infomercials and ads for Girls Gone Wild. Neither of which were all that entertaining. Though all of the infomercials seemed to share the same overly cheerful blonde woman helping some guy sell some thing. Which was just WEIRD. Did she make a living at it? Or was there just something about working on infomercials that made every woman into identical blondes?
She could always read, but something so relaxing and uninvolved didn’t quite appeal to her at 345 in the morning. Though randomly clicking channels wasn’t much more involved. But the channels flipping by was rather hypnotic, and that was something… Ooh!
“Jackpot!” Charlotte crowed in triumph, turning the volume up. Not that it really mattered. She didn’t speak Spanish, so hearing the actors in whatever late night tele-novela she’d just discovered speaking didn’t do much of anything for her. It was the principle of the thing, though.
Thirty minutes later Charlotte was confused. Near as she could tell the first tall dark haired guy was either involved with or related to the tall buxom blonde. But the tall buxom blonde may or may not have been also involved with the second tall dark hair guy (with a mustache). Which, if she was related to the first, would probably be better... Then there was a blond guy that appeared to have a thing for the second tall dark hair guy (with a mustache). The blond guy appeared to have a grandmother who was prone to matchmaking and baking. Then there was a brunette woman whose only purpose seemed to be to cry and plot. At least, that’s what Charlotte thought she was doing. Either way it was entertaining as hell.
Yawning, she stretched out on the couch, pillowing her head on the armrest to wait for the commercial break to end. Pepsi commercials were so much more entertaining in Spanish, she decided, as the telenovela theme song briefly reprised itself and the maybe-brother-and-sister picked up fighting where they had left off prior to the Pepsi commercial. Well... I guess they’re definitely not siblings she thought drowsily as the formerly-maybe-now-definitely-NOT-brother-and-sister started making out like they were trying to win something. As the door burst open Charlotte’s eyelids slowly started drifting shut, and as the theme song played cheerily over the ending credits she slipped firmly into dreamland.
Name: Charlotte “Charlie” Jacobs
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Place of Residence: Currently the hotel, room 213. Finds herself considering looking for a more permanent place of residence.
Type of Car: An old black mustang left to her. Named Frank. License plate: CARABAS
Occupation/Skills: Former student (graduated), currently unemployed (but her family left her enough to live off of). Considering looking into applying at the art gallery or one of the bars in Greenvale. Is a decent photographer.
She can make a mean cup of tea, but she drinks coffee and tea in equal measure. Likes trying new things as far as food and beverages go.
Charlotte has a weakness for telenovelas; she can’t understand a word that is said (she chose French in high school, not Spanish), but finds them tremendously fun none-the-less.
Charlotte loves the rain. When she was a child she’d go outside and play whenever there was a downpour. Afterwards she would go inside and her father would fix her a cup of hot chocolate. Then they’d sit down and read. When she was small he’d read to her. But not the typical fare one would usually read to a child. He read her Dune, Dracula, and some of H.P Lovecraft’s stories. And as a result she was usually completely at a loss as to why other children didn’t know who the Fremen were or weren’t familiar with “The Colour Out of Space”. This tradition also led to her becoming an avid reader as she grew up.
She enjoys doing cross word puzzles once and a while, but absolutely hates Sudoku. It’s the math, you see.
Charlotte loves exploring buildings and places. When she does she usually has some sort of camera on her person, in case something catches her eye. Then again, she usually has a camera on her anyway.
When it comes to movies she loves all sorts, but has a very soft spot for B movies. Movies like the Godzilla series and Jesus Christ: Vampire Hunter are right up her alley.
Appearance: Charlotte is white, with curly red/strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. Slim build and around 5’7 in height. She gets her height and her eyes from her father, and her colouring and build from her mother. Usual clothing of choice involves a shirt, jeans, boots and a leather jacket if the weather calls for it.
Her face is heart shaped, and there’s a small scar running just through her right eyebrow from what was dubbed the fireworks incident. There’s another scar on her arm from a dog bite when she was 4 or 5. There’s a faint smattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks, but they’re not really visible unless you’re right next to her.
Her curly red/strawberry blonde hair falls past her shoulder blades and is usually worn down, though she has been known to wear it pulled back or braided. She wears glasses, a pair of cat-eye frames in dark blue. They’re her “librarian glasses”.
She has a tattoo of a flowering vine, starting at her foot/ankle, that winds up her right leg, curves up her hip and onto her back, stopping at her right shoulder. Very similar to this.
Personality: Charlotte is fairly sarcastic at times, especially if she doesn’t know someone. She can be fairly friendly, but very cautious about letting people get close as a result of moving around so much after her father died (for her mother’s new job). What was the point of making friends if only to move away a few months later? So Charlotte instead gained acquaintances wherever she went. People who she got along with well enough to not mind spending some time with them, but never really truly got to know them, or let them get to know her. She also gained an ability to be all right with being alone. Though she has a deep-seated longing for close friends, she’d never admit it.
Charlotte is a smart young woman, though she doesn’t mind playing dumb sometimes, in order to make people underestimate her. She is not all that great at math. It was one of her worst subjects in school, and she had to work her ass off to get any sort of decent passing grade.
Charlotte has an irrational fear of elevators. Something about it being a small enclosed space that moves freaks her out. Oddly enough, enclosed spaces that don’t move don’t bother her at all. She has a slightly more rational fear of large dogs, as when she was young a neighbour’s dog bit her badly.
History: Charlotte’s father Jason Jacobs died when she was 10, and afterwards her mother took a job that involved them having to move regularly. Vanessa Jacobs didn’t need to work, as her husband had left his family very well off, but she wanted to do more than just live off her deceased husband’s money.
Around the time her mother found a job that let her put down roots in North Carolina, Charlotte left for college and majored in ancient/medieval history (Europe) and minored in archaeology. It was after her graduation present of a trip abroad that tragedy struck. Charlotte returned home to find her mother dead. Then the FBI got involved. That’s how she met the agent in charge, one David Young Henning.
After taking care of what needed to be taken care of, she left. She couldn’t stay in the house anymore. Not after her mother had died there. The image of her mother lying sprawled across her desk, papers strewn about and blood smeared across the oak surface haunted her for a long time. Between her father and her mother and the sale of the house she was more than well enough off to not worry about providing for herself for a long while. Time passed, and the pain has eased, though on the anniversary of her death Charlotte is rather melancholy and withdrawn. Though the questions are still unanswered.
A year and a half later Charlotte found herself passing through Greenvale, and found herself a room at the Deer Yard Hotel. Room 213 to be exact. Which is where we find her now, a month or two after arriving in Greenvale and actually considering finding a more permanent place of residence.
RP Sample:
Charlotte dropped down on the couch with a sigh, and flipped the TV on. The problem with insomnia is the sheer lack of interesting distractions she mused silently as channel after channel yielded nothing but infomercials and ads for Girls Gone Wild. Neither of which were all that entertaining. Though all of the infomercials seemed to share the same overly cheerful blonde woman helping some guy sell some thing. Which was just WEIRD. Did she make a living at it? Or was there just something about working on infomercials that made every woman into identical blondes?
She could always read, but something so relaxing and uninvolved didn’t quite appeal to her at 345 in the morning. Though randomly clicking channels wasn’t much more involved. But the channels flipping by was rather hypnotic, and that was something… Ooh!
“Jackpot!” Charlotte crowed in triumph, turning the volume up. Not that it really mattered. She didn’t speak Spanish, so hearing the actors in whatever late night tele-novela she’d just discovered speaking didn’t do much of anything for her. It was the principle of the thing, though.
Thirty minutes later Charlotte was confused. Near as she could tell the first tall dark haired guy was either involved with or related to the tall buxom blonde. But the tall buxom blonde may or may not have been also involved with the second tall dark hair guy (with a mustache). Which, if she was related to the first, would probably be better... Then there was a blond guy that appeared to have a thing for the second tall dark hair guy (with a mustache). The blond guy appeared to have a grandmother who was prone to matchmaking and baking. Then there was a brunette woman whose only purpose seemed to be to cry and plot. At least, that’s what Charlotte thought she was doing. Either way it was entertaining as hell.
Yawning, she stretched out on the couch, pillowing her head on the armrest to wait for the commercial break to end. Pepsi commercials were so much more entertaining in Spanish, she decided, as the telenovela theme song briefly reprised itself and the maybe-brother-and-sister picked up fighting where they had left off prior to the Pepsi commercial. Well... I guess they’re definitely not siblings she thought drowsily as the formerly-maybe-now-definitely-NOT-brother-and-sister started making out like they were trying to win something. As the door burst open Charlotte’s eyelids slowly started drifting shut, and as the theme song played cheerily over the ending credits she slipped firmly into dreamland.
