SOS CortezHorse

[LunaTwilight]

Just looking for CortezHorse out here in the wide RPNation. I was invited and new to the site, and just looking for the RP's with my friend; with no means to Private Message yet. Thank you!

 

[CortezHorse]

I'm heeeeere!!! :3 Your search may now end!

 

[LunaTwilight]

Hooray! Soon I shall be a pro at this site like I was in my hayday! Oh, the memories....

 

[CortezHorse]

*sings memories from CATS* :3

 

[LunaTwilight]

... I do no know this song. I must learn this song. And get rid of this blasted writers block. I forgot about that thing. I don't like it anymore now than I did then...

 

[CortezHorse]

*smacks your head with a rock* I shall beat the words out of you :3

 

[LunaTwilight]

NO! I got the character up! It's a miracle! And soon I can Private Message all of this and not unleash it upon the world!

 

[CortezHorse]

Ada Walker

• Appearance
• General
• Background
• Writing Sample

• 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  WRITTEN DESCRIPTION: The first thing that is noticeable about Ada is her height, being a woman she generally towers over others of her own gender. Along with her height comes a lankiness born of long limbs. Her legs and arms seem to stretch on for miles and appear to belong to someone else’s body. She’s lined with lithe muscle from years of physical labor and is sometimes mistaken for a boy due to her flat chest and board straight figure. Although she does have the figure of a boy and the limbs of a stretch doll, Ada can be considered attractive, to, well, the right person; the most striking feature about her is her eyes; one is blue and the other brown.
  
  
  Her hair is constantly changing colors but generally stays in a consistent Mohawk type style. Off work she wears the most outlandish clothes she can get her grubby little hands on. Maybe today she’ll wear a tank top made of coke tabs, possibly run around in a leather bra, who knows? When it comes to work she’s able to control her impulses, knowing she needs work, so keeps to wearing a collared shirt and slacks.
  
  
  
  
  
  • Height & Weight: 5’10”, 140lbs.
    
  
  
  
  • Markings/Scars/Tattoos: Ada’s earlobes are pierced twice which she keeps silver studs in at all times. She has a silver nose ring and silver snakebites on her face.
    
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NAME:Ada Walker
  
  
  STATUS: Grunt
  
  
  

  
  
  
  CLASS: Lower
  
  
  OCCUPATION: Assembly Line Laborer
  
  
  

  
  
  
  AGE: 25
  
  
  GENDER: Female
  
  
  
  PERSONALITY: To say Ada marches to the beat of her own drum could possibly be an understatement. In a world where everyone is cramped together in the same living conditions and doomed to the same jobs, Ada craves to carve out a notch for herself and be something different. If she can look different, act different or talk different then she will; preferably all three.
  
  
  Along with this rebellious craving of hers comes a reckless nature born out of a need to feel something in a world where she feels numb in the ever growing crowds. It’s not uncommon for Ada to get into trouble, whether it be a fight on the street, money troubles from gambling or even drugs. She’s certainly not unaccustomed to being bailed out of stick situations which she always feels guilty for but never fails to end back in the same problems.
  
  
  Despite her shortcomings Ada has an extremely soft spot for children and animals, especially if either of them finds themselves on the street. While she’s known for blowing her pay on gambling, she’s also known for blowing her money on buying food for kids and dogs she stumbled upon on the way home from work. She’s been in their situation and understands that they can’t help themselves so feels some sort of obligation towards them.
  
  
  The most important aspect of Ada’s personality is actually a person, because she helped shaped a large part of Ada, at least the good parts anyway. She’s a girl by the name of Rebecca Clement who Ada is fiercely protective over. This was the one person in Ada’s life who taught her the meaning of kindness towards others and that you didn’t have to necessarily beat the living hell out of someone to get ahead in life. In other words, Rebecca is the reason that Ada isn’t a completely insane individual. She’s also the one who keeps her in line so you can thank her for the fact that Ada still has a job and probably for the fact that she’s even still alive.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  STRENGTHS:
  
  
  +Bullshit Meter: Due to life experiences it’s very hard to tell a passing lie to Ada.
  
  
  +Street Rats: Because of her kindness to the children of the streets, Ada has a lot of “invisible” eyes and ears on the streets.
  
  
  +Monkey Hands: It’s odd but Ada can climb like a maniac. Why does she know this? Probably because the shithole apartment she and her roommate live in is only accessible through a window that has a broken fire escape.
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  FAULTS:
  
  
  -Gambler: Ada has a slight problem with gambling on fights. She’s well known for blowing entire pay checks in one go.
  
  
  -Addict: For years she’s been addicted to amphetamines. She just likes the buzz it gives her.
  
  
  -Bad Listener: She’s never been one to follow direction. Unless it comes from someone she truly respects, she’ll probably just say fuck you and carry on with precisely what she was doing.
  
  
  

  
  
  
  QUIRKS/HABITS: It’s been said that Ada has what is known as a resting bitch face which tends to deter most people interested in starting a conversation with her.
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  Like most, Ada was born into a small, overcrowded apartment complex. She was one of ten siblings; the daughter of an overworked mother who had many men come and go through her life. It was at the young age of fourteen that Ada decided she wanted to escape the suffocating confines of her family’s too small apartment and out into the world. It wasn’t long until she realized the harshness of her home life was nothing compared to the horrors of the real world.
  
  
  For months she scrounged by, scavenging for food through trash bins, hiding in boxes for shelter and at times pick pocketing when needed. Despite the tough odds it never crossed her mind to return home, she’d tasted bitter freedom and would never turn back. Ada continued on her lonesome until she came upon a wet and hungry mop of red hair one evening. That young girl would end up being her best friend in life, Rebecca Celment.
  
  
  The two girls immediately bonded although Rebecca was completely against any sort of illicit activity and Ada was always rolling her eyes at the girls naivety; opposites attract as they always say. The pair roamed the streets together, building shelters, searching for food and sharing in adventures that only children could have in such dire situations. As they grew, the friendship only grew stronger and with one another they started piecing together a life.
  
  
  Ada went from job to job with any sort of manual labor, her hang ups always causing her to lose employment. Rebecca on the other hand was always a model citizen and was the one who kept the steady income flowing to fund their small apartment and keep them fed. Recently Rebecca pleaded with Ada to stop her drug use, if not for her sake then for their small income’s sake. For once, Ada heard her out and with a huge guilt weighing on her, quite the amphetamines. As it turns out, those pills have been the only thing keeping her awake for who knows how long….
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  There was fire, fire everywhere; it roiled up to the sky in explosive balls. The sound was deafening but it was nowhere near as drowning as the screams were. Everyone was running and trampling each other, if the fire and explosions didn’t kill them; they’d kill each other.
  
  
  Ada’s eyes widened as she watched this horror from a seemingly safe place. The scene was, she just, how could this be happening? It was fine yesterday. People were running towards her, the fire followed and devoured their flesh. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing escaped. Her head snapped up from the kitchen table, sweat rolled down her face as she tried to catch her breath. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real it was. A dream.
  
  
  No, no that, she couldn’t be. Had she really fallen asleep? The thought ripped through her like a bolt of lightning and she practically leapt out of the chair. No, that wasn’t what had happened, it couldn’t be! She just sat down at the table to have a drink and then, and then, and then nothing. Her hand nervously weaved its way into her colorful hair as she began pacing the dirty and cracked tile. What would she tell Rebecca?
  
  
  

 

[LunaTwilight]

Rebecca “Frizz” Clement

• Appearance
• General
• Background
• Writing Sample

• 
  
  
  
  
  WRITTEN DESCRIPTION:
  
  
  
  
  
  Frizz’s short stature has always held a pear shape body type. With a wide bone structure despite her short frame, her waist gradually slopes out into her hips; leaving much to be wanted in the world of womanly curves. Instead, Frizz has an oval face that can give a cherub a run for their money. Thin lips and a freckled button nose only accentuate her larger than average hazel doe eyes; complete with the thick lashes she’s learned to bat with a pout when needed. Thankfully the childlike features come to an end with her only dimple not being on her cheek, but instead her chin.
  
  
  Acting as a homing beacon for anyone searching for Frizz, unruly red hair adds at least a couple more inches to her height. Long ago has she given up trying to tame the orange beast, and instead lets the mass of frizz do as it pleases; keeping it at a manageable length past her shoulders when dry, though when wet it could reach down to her non noticeable dary-aire.
  
  
  With no muscle or curves to work with, Frizz keeps her fashion to three key words. Simple, cheap, and manageable. She is always looking for a way to save a few bucks; most of her clothes have been patched or completely altered more times than she cares to count. Often times Frizz will raid her roommate’s closet for pieces she use to liven up her casual jeans and skirts. It’s amazing how one of Ada’s mesh shirts or ripped pants can look respectable with a simple vest.
  
  
  • Height & Weight: 5’ 2” & 123 lbs.
    
  
  
  
  • Markings/Scars/Tattoos: Red prick marks cover her thighs in an attempt to stay alert.
    
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  NAME: Rebecca “Frizz” Clement
  
  
  STATUS: Grunt
  
  
  

  
  
  
  CLASS: Lower
  
  
  OCCUPATION: Warehouse Telemarketer / Café and Club Waitress
  
  
  

  
  
  
  AGE: 23
  
  
  GENDER: Female
  
  
  
  PERSONALITY:
  
  
  Hard honest work brings forth a clean honest life. Or at least that’s what was preached to Frizz all through her childhood. Despite her misgivings, the plucky young woman still wants to strive for this type of life. Daily she will put in her short 13 hour work shift at the warehouse, and then shoot between one waitressing job after the other. All in hopes of someday landing a job outside of the Warehouse and lower class.
  
  
  When around co-workers and customers, she tries to absorb as much of the personality off of others as she can. Frizz constantly mirrors the atmosphere that is around her in order to succeed in her ever-changing job shifts. From a bashful young lady to an outlandish server, whatever face will keep the customers happy; she will “fake it till she makes it”. It’s only when she finally gets to go home does Frizz stop playing actress. She is a natural worrier when she gives herself time to think; constantly trying to make ends meet and keep those she care for safe and healthy. Namely her roommate Ada Walker.
  
  
  Frizz’s true self shines in the care and trust she places in Ada. She would do anything to protect the young woman who took her under her crazy wild wings as a teenager. The two strove to build the home they now have, and Frizz would do anything to see Ada have an easier life than they were born into. Through much time and effort, she has tried showing her roommate that you don’t have to screw the world to get ahead.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  STRENGTHS:
  
  
  +Mimicry: Frizz has become talented over the years in blending into different crowds by just following the general idea and mood of others.
  
  
  + Steadfast: Her beliefs will not be changed easily, and her word is not something to be trifled with.
  
  
  + Money Savvy: When you have a gambler as a roommate, you learn how to pinch some pennies to make ends meet.
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  FAULTS:
  
  
  -Anxiety: She is constantly worrying about one thing or another. Whether it be having enough credits or the fear that she received a weak Narc Patch.
  
  
  -Blunt: Sometimes the girl is too honest for her own good. Even if she is aware that subjects need to be treaded lightly, chances are she is not going to choose the most graceful words to express her opinion.
  
  
  -Absent-minded: Lately, she hasn’t been as alert as she should be. It’s becoming more difficult to remember the most mundane of things.
  
  
  

  
  
  
  QUIRKS/HABITS:
  
  
  Frizz is terrified of the thought that the Narc Patches might not be working, or that she herself could be a Narc. She couldn’t possible bring any illegal drugs into her home, not after talking her roommate into cleaning up her act… To keep from closing her eyes longer than deemed appropriate, and to stay more focused, she’s been pricking her thighs with a safety pin she keeps pinned underneath her shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  All Frizz really knows of her biological family is that her mother was a Narc, and she was mostly taken care of by her teenage siblings until she was a toddler. Or at least that’s what she was always told by their neighbors. Frizz and her three siblings were taken in by an elderly woman named Tasha who lived in the apartment complex the family lived in. Children and teens alike cycled through Tasha’s home almost on a weekly basis.
  
  
  Most of her childhood was spent listening to Tasha preach the importance of being an exemplary citizen to New Miami. The dangers of Narcs and the importance of hard work was the all the woman ever talked about; and she expected nothing less from any child that lived with her. All teenagers were to work at least 10 hour shifts. If any drug outside of a Narc Patch was found in a room, all occupants were thrown out. Any sign of a resistance to their monthly patches was to be immediately reported and looked into. And Tasha’s most iron clad law, “You lie, you leave.”
  
  
  It was no wonder so many children left; but even after Frizz’s siblings abandoned her for the freedom of the streets, she stayed and hung on every word the old woman had to offer. Yet listening did nothing to prepare her for life outside the cramped apartment.
  
  
  At the age of 12, Frizz found herself thrown out on the streets when Tasha succumbed to her age and all the children still under her care were evicted immediately. For weeks she scavenged best she could, trying to find her siblings who were long lost to the fighting arenas and mass of drug addicts found in the city. Hungry and alone, Frizz was at a loss on how to even survive the night when down the alley comes this wise ass kid name Ada Walker.
  
  
  The two girls found in each other what they their self was lacking. What Frizz lacked in survival skills, she made up for by actively, and loudly, playing the part of the moral compass for the duo. She never forgot what Tasha taught her as a child, and she wanted to make the woman proud.
  
  
  Eventually the two girls grew from local street urchins, to working class grunts and proud owners of their very own apartment. Frizz adapted quickly to customer service, and she started any available shift she could find at either the Warehouse or out in the city. But things were not all sunshine and roses.
  
  
  Frizz always knew Ada was a wild child, but she always held hope it was an experimental phase that her friend would grow out of. Over the years, she kept telling herself this same excuse; constantly covering for Ada as her apparent addiction to amphetamines became worse. Then she just couldn’t lie to herself anymore. So she begged and pleaded with Ada from every angle she could think of to stop her roommate from using anymore. And miraculously, it worked.
  
  
  But Frizz’s fears are only beginning. She always thought it was the anxiety over Ada that has been taking the edge off her caffeine intake; but still her focus is fading. Just recently she has caught herself closing her eyes and losing moments of time, something that has never happened before. And frankly; she’s terrified.
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  “Thirteen. That’s the most this week.” Frizz mumbled as she recounted the ruby speckles splayed across her pale legs. Why was she having such a hard time focusing today? The Café had been a cinch this morning, especially with its steady stream of customers coming in for their shots of espresso to kick start their work shifts. But the Warehouse had been agonizing.
  
  
  Early on in her shift, the lines for the telemarketing division had went dead temporarily. An easy fix apparently; but not a quick one. Frizz had to spend hours listening to the monotone monologue of Becky’s love life; and it was taking everything in her not to shove the woman down the stairs and end both of their misery for the afternoon. Yet somehow she didn’t think that would be considered an appropriate response in the office, no matter how tantalizing an idea. It wasn’t until Becky was on her third tirade against men did the ‘fog’ return.
  
  
  That was the best way she could describe the sensation that fell over her in times like this. Words and thoughts started getting muddled together, but not in the way that things run together when the doctor slaps that fresh Narc Patch on each month. This was something different. Something slower and heavier. And whatever it was, Frizz was terrified of it. With as little movement possible she unhooked the safety pin she had started carrying after her first scare with this muted awareness. Then even more discretly she used just enough pressure to prick her skin and snap her nerves to attention.
  
  
  And it took thirteen times today to stay alert.
  
  
  Frizz dug one hand into her hair before slumping over onto the floor. Gazing through the curtain of orange hair puffed up around her, she stared at the dust motes settling onto the wooden floor boards beneath her. If she closed her eyes. If she let the fog win. Would she lose consciousness? Would she sleep?
  
  
  “That’s ridiculous.”
  
  
  Sitting up off the floor and grabbing her skirt, Frizz stumbled across the room as she slipped back on her skirt. There were more important things to worry about. Problems that existed in the real world and not some paranoid, overworked mind.