Post by zosime on Jul 20, 2012 20:13:25 GMT -8
ZOSIME -- DESDEMONA -- CORDOVA !
BASICS...
Face Claim: Zooey Deschanel
Full Name: Zosime Desdemona Cordova (née Eumelia)
Nicknames: Zo, Zoey, Zosi, Dessy, Mona
Hair Colour: Brunette
Eye Colour: Blue
Height: 5' 6"
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Occupation: Student
Team: Polleo
Goal for HA: In all honesty, despite her vast intelligence, like most indecisive people, not all, she doesn't know what she wants to do. She does know three things. One, she wants to excel academically. Two, wants to do everything in her power to make her marriage work. Three, despite the fact she is rather sweet, she refuses to associate herself with people that seem to make it their life mission to ruin her academic experience. There is another thing as well, but she doesn't view it as being necessarily essential to her time spent at HA. She simply wants to be able to stop relying on her husband for every, little thing.
Five Likes:
- Academic prowess
- Reading
- Writing
- Country music
- Exercising
Five Dislikes:
- Stupidity
- Immorality
- Excuses
- Animal cruelty in any form
- Phony people who only want another point for their résumé
HOME LIFE...
Parents: John and Belle Eumelia
Siblings: Zebediah Eumelia [deceased]
Other: Vincent Cordova [husband]
Riding History: Born and raised on a ranch, she grew up around horses. Always the first one up and the last one to crawl into bed, no matter the circumstances, her family simply couldn't keep her away from the elegant creatures that seemed to treat their youngest child like one of their own. It was the family joke that she was a horse whisperer with the way she tip-toed around them and was able to get them to do about anything she asked them to do. When it came to riding, however, no matter the style of riding, she chose, whether it be English, bareback, or Western, she seemed to have been born for it. She had the natural posture and the good head on her shoulders to boot. For her, horses had been more important than people. I mean..come on, how many people don't judge you, let you ride them, and put up with you sobbing against their neckSTAFF POSITIONS
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ABOUT YOU...
Age: 18
Years RPing: 5+
RL Horse Experience: I rode horses when I was ten, but we haven't had the money since. I haven't lost my touch (conceited muchSTAFF POSITIONS) and if there's something I simply can't grasp, I'm like any other person. BING!..-Cough-Google-Cough-
Example Post: minimum 200 words!For a moment, the woman frowned. "No, nothing is wrong." The response was automatic and tasted bitter as it rolled off of her tongue. Her thoughts wandered like they often did when she wasn't on a mission of some sort. Mystique wasn't well-suited to just sitting idly by because her mind often times went to dangerous places. The pain from the past often resurfaced, bringing to light many painful memories that she couldn't shake. Humans, for all of their complaints about mutants being evil to the core, were just as bad, if not worse.
She hadn't asked to be born a mutant and yet, here she was, sitting in the lap of a man that could easily be her descendant, although it's not to say being around Magneto was a bad thing. Not by any stretch. The man made her feel whole, like she actually belonged in a world that sought to destroy her and everything she had stood for since humans had soured her all those years ago. Her outlook on life had been a product of humans and how quickly their fear of the unknown turned into anger. The entire reason behind the scars on her chest was humans, although the humans might argue that it had been the product of another foiled attempt by the Brotherhood to ruin their plans of destroying the 'disease' that made mutants into what they were. She never talked about her past or how her own family had attempted to kill her. They thought they were going to do her a favor and put her out of her misery but unfortunately, it hadn't quite worked out that way.
Within the past century, she had developed an irreversible hatred that had made her into the woman that she was in that moment. Her hatred was what fueled her and helped her to carry on. Her justifications were what helped her to sleep at night after killing countless people in the pursuit of acceptance and the ability to live without cowering in fear or shrink away from a human with a weapon. To date, mutants had only been guilty of defending themselves and their rights, granted their methods were often extreme but still, throughout the course of human history, similar things have happened time and time again. It was always the result of when one species tried to rule over another or establish some form of equality. "Erik..." She began quietly, biting her lip as her hand sought his, clutching it gently.
The words she wanted to say had lodged in her throat and in that moment, she knew saying the words would be about as difficult as pulling teeth. She had been alive for almost one hundred and forty years and yet, she couldn't bring herself to say three, simple words. "I-I..." She paused and her gaze dropped to the floor, where it remained for several moments. Finally, she forced herself to leave the perch she had claimed in his lap, striding quickly toward the double doors to close them. When the doors shut with a hollow clang, she appeared to visibly relax. Her head rested against the cool surface of the door and a heavy sigh left her parted lips as the words she wanted to say played like a broken record in the confines of her mind.
She took in a slow, steady breath then turned toward him, making her way back to his lap. Tilting her head for a brief moment, she straddled his lap. Instead of the brunette she had been only moments before, she was now in her true form. Eerie, yellow eyes gazed into his bluish-grey gaze while her hands lifted to cup his face. Before speaking, she somehow gathered what little of her composure actually remained. "Erik, I love you." She blurted out in a rush, her lips brushing along his.
After her confession had been put into the open, she felt better but at the same time, she feared what would happen. To date, their relationship had been strictly business, granted they both seemed to have soft spots for each other. For instance, him letting her get away with breaking rules that the others couldn't break, without risking bodily harm, hadn't gone unnoticed by the blue vixen. At times, she would admit that she had pushed her luck to see just how far it actually extended. From what she could tell, he never got angry with her. Occasionally frustrated but never angry. Her thumb grazed his jawline before she dropped her hands.
Unlike the form she had taken a shine to, she couldn't simply use her hair as a curtain to hide the wide range of emotions that currently were displayed on her face like a neon sign. "I didn't become your lap dog just because I was loyal, Erik. I mean, let's be real...in reality, despite whatever appearance we have, I'm older than you, and my style has never been recognizing somebody that holds authority over me." She hesitated, taking his hand as she brought it to the scars on her chest, unashamed by the gesture. Her head tilted, and she gave a fleeting smile. "If I didn't care, I wouldn't have these because I could have easily walked away when danger came yet, I stayed for you and for our cause." She murmured, fighting to contain her warring emotions.
