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Post by [x] Wales on Apr 17, 2012 23:18:24 GMT -5
Basic Information:
Name: Wales/Cymru [Aeron Pryce-Kirkland]
~
Gender: Male
~
Appearance: Shaggy, reddish-blond hair and lovely green eyes. Almost inconsequentially slight, as far as body type goes, and a good few inches shorter than his siblings.
~
Personality: A definite drama queen (king? He-queen?) when not absorbed in his own mind. He can be underwhelming, but if you give him a chance to talk, he’ll never stop. He loves rugby, music, and passionately holds to the belief that w is, indeed, a vowel. Terribly afraid of heights.
~
Relationships: Wales is the younger brother of England; Although his relationship with England used to be tense (England was a bully when they were kids), it has since gotten friendlier, and they now maintain a properly brotherly if somewhat bland relationship.
He admires his younger sister, Ireland, with whom he gets along.
Wales annoys the carp (I did that on porpoise—aren’t I punny?) out of Scotland, his younger brother, and the two don’t get along.
He does get along fairly well with just about everyone else, though he rarely interacts with them.
~
Special Abilities: Like everyone else in the Kirkland family, he has the ability to see magical creatures. Also, he’s really good at rugby, despite his slim frame.
~
AU-Related Information:
Short-Range Weapon of Choice: Two thin daggers that he keeps strapped to his wrists, or a syringe of poison.
~
Long-Range Weapon of Choice: A totally amped-up crossbow (it’s like a gun, right?) similar (read: exactly like) Detritus’s bow in the Discworld series. If you haven’t read that, you should, but it’s essentially a crossbow that shoots several arrows at once and puts so much pressure on them when you shoot it that the arrows explode into thousands of tiny splinters, some of which burst into flame.
~
Duty Position: Lab Scientist
~
Bunk: Bottom. We’re already forty feet in the air, and you want me to sleep even higher? Where I can see the ground, all the way… down… there… AAAHHH!
*Ahem*
Obligatory Filling:
Sample RP: So, this is embarrassing: I’ve never RPed before, and I don’t write fanfiction, at least not for Hetalia. I’m mostly here for the zombies. BUT. Here is an excerpt from one of the original short stories I have taking up space and gathering dust on my laptop. It has nothing to do with my character. Forgive me.
The bell briiiiiiing-ed.
Kim collected herself and her things, standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. She lifted a hand to her ear and shook her head, a slight frown forming between her eyebrows. It was knocked away by a small, blonde, utterly peppy freight train smashing into her side at warp-speed.
Kim flailed for balance as Tori hung from her shoulders, screeching, “Oh, Kimmie, you’ll never guess what happened last period! That bitch Miranda—“
Kim’s attention was torn away from Tori’s whining by a tinny voice singing in her ears. “Kimmie? Did that girl just call you Kimmie? Alexi, why did you never tell me people called her Kimmie?” That last was directed to a man Kim couldn’t see, and followed by raucous female laughter and a low man’s chuckle.
Realizing Tori was waiting for a response, Kim giggled shrilly and shrieked “No way! Really?” Tori seemed satisfied by this answer and said “Uhg! Are you ready for that Spanish test? Who’re you copying off’ve? Can we share?” This form of rapid-fire questioning was quintessentially Victoria Fletcher. Kim, ignoring the laughter from the device in her ear, answered her ‘friend.’ “Oh my goshies, Tori! I totes forgot to figure out who to copy! I’m skipping anyways, though! Bye bye!”
Tori giggled and yelled “Going off to be with Alex!? You’ll have to introduce me to this boy of yours someday, Kimmie!” after Kim’s retreating figure.
Usually, Alexi was Kim’s only connection to her home. If Ali was with him in the control room, something was either very wrong or very right. With the way things had been going since she joined up, she doubted it was the latter.
Kim slid into her car, closed the door, and hit the button that soundproofed the vehicle. Only then did she speak directly to her friends. “What’s our story?”
Ali’s voice crackled up. “Are you in your car?” Kim affirmed this, flipping a screen up from the passenger seat and twisting knobs on the radio until a fuzzy image of a young woman in black popped.
After a few moments, the screen became clearer and another face, that of a man, appeared as well. Ali’s eyebrows were slightly closer to each other than usual, a face equivalent to one creased with worry on a person less trained in hiding emotions.
She spoke. “Nadezhda says we’ve located Victoria Fletcher.”
Kim cocked her head. “I’ve been infiltrating her security for four months.”
Ali spoke volumes with her eyes, volumes that said I know, and I’m sorry, but you’re in grave, grave danger, but all her mouth said was “I know.”
Alexi filled in the blanks. “Victoria “Tori” Fletcher, 17, has been living in a safe-house with her mother, sanctioned by her father. An American spy has been attending the Downfeld Private Academy under her name in the hopes of identifying and eliminating any foreign spies hoping to attack the Elected King through his children.”
Kim glanced towards the school, but the parking lot was empty. Turning back to her computer screen, she said “It seems to have worked.”
Ali spoke once more. “Drive to base 5-5-9-14. We’ll pick you up from their. Abort your mission. It’s laid with traps.”
Kim nodded and turned her key in the ignition. Nothing happened. She swallowed and tried again. Still nothing. Trying for the third time, and turning off the soundproofing, Kim heard a soft tapping from her window. She turned her head achingly slowly.
Tori leaned against the door, grinning, holding a bottle of 92.87% nitric acid in one hand and a wicked looking blade in the other. She waved the blade sweetly at Kim and slammed her foot into the window.
~
Rules Code: [Validated by "Oh, hello, Cymru. Cheery weather we're having, isn't it?"]
~
About The Roleplayer:
About Me: Aww, you guys want to know about me? I’m flattered. I’m really into sci-fi: Doctor Who, Farscape, Stargate, Firefly, and Dollhouse. Larry Niven is a fabulous author, as is Terry Pratchett (and Rowling, Pierce, Riordan, Collins… A whole host of YA authors.) I’m not super into anime and manga—like I said, I’m here for the zombies—but I’ll watch and/or read it if I like the plot. The plot is the key! I’m fifteen, my name is Melissa, and I also write poetry about corrupt policemen, suicide, and torture. Cheery stuff.
~
Pairing Preferences: I’ve got none (for this character)! Basically, until I decide something serious should happen in Wales’s romantic life (or until one of you decides that) I’m totally open to him being a player. Or a romantic failure, if nobody loves me ☹
~
Personal Note: You are absolutely freaking gorgeous. Also, I like your shoes. No, not those ones. Those ones. To the right. Yes, those ones.
Name: Wales/Cymru [Aeron Pryce-Kirkland]
~
Gender: Male
~
Appearance: Shaggy, reddish-blond hair and lovely green eyes. Almost inconsequentially slight, as far as body type goes, and a good few inches shorter than his siblings.
~
Personality: A definite drama queen (king? He-queen?) when not absorbed in his own mind. He can be underwhelming, but if you give him a chance to talk, he’ll never stop. He loves rugby, music, and passionately holds to the belief that w is, indeed, a vowel. Terribly afraid of heights.
~
Relationships: Wales is the younger brother of England; Although his relationship with England used to be tense (England was a bully when they were kids), it has since gotten friendlier, and they now maintain a properly brotherly if somewhat bland relationship.
He admires his younger sister, Ireland, with whom he gets along.
Wales annoys the carp (I did that on porpoise—aren’t I punny?) out of Scotland, his younger brother, and the two don’t get along.
He does get along fairly well with just about everyone else, though he rarely interacts with them.
~
Special Abilities: Like everyone else in the Kirkland family, he has the ability to see magical creatures. Also, he’s really good at rugby, despite his slim frame.
~
AU-Related Information:
Short-Range Weapon of Choice: Two thin daggers that he keeps strapped to his wrists, or a syringe of poison.
~
Long-Range Weapon of Choice: A totally amped-up crossbow (it’s like a gun, right?) similar (read: exactly like) Detritus’s bow in the Discworld series. If you haven’t read that, you should, but it’s essentially a crossbow that shoots several arrows at once and puts so much pressure on them when you shoot it that the arrows explode into thousands of tiny splinters, some of which burst into flame.
~
Duty Position: Lab Scientist
~
Bunk: Bottom. We’re already forty feet in the air, and you want me to sleep even higher? Where I can see the ground, all the way… down… there… AAAHHH!
*Ahem*
Obligatory Filling:
Sample RP: So, this is embarrassing: I’ve never RPed before, and I don’t write fanfiction, at least not for Hetalia. I’m mostly here for the zombies. BUT. Here is an excerpt from one of the original short stories I have taking up space and gathering dust on my laptop. It has nothing to do with my character. Forgive me.
The bell briiiiiiing-ed.
Kim collected herself and her things, standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. She lifted a hand to her ear and shook her head, a slight frown forming between her eyebrows. It was knocked away by a small, blonde, utterly peppy freight train smashing into her side at warp-speed.
Kim flailed for balance as Tori hung from her shoulders, screeching, “Oh, Kimmie, you’ll never guess what happened last period! That bitch Miranda—“
Kim’s attention was torn away from Tori’s whining by a tinny voice singing in her ears. “Kimmie? Did that girl just call you Kimmie? Alexi, why did you never tell me people called her Kimmie?” That last was directed to a man Kim couldn’t see, and followed by raucous female laughter and a low man’s chuckle.
Realizing Tori was waiting for a response, Kim giggled shrilly and shrieked “No way! Really?” Tori seemed satisfied by this answer and said “Uhg! Are you ready for that Spanish test? Who’re you copying off’ve? Can we share?” This form of rapid-fire questioning was quintessentially Victoria Fletcher. Kim, ignoring the laughter from the device in her ear, answered her ‘friend.’ “Oh my goshies, Tori! I totes forgot to figure out who to copy! I’m skipping anyways, though! Bye bye!”
Tori giggled and yelled “Going off to be with Alex!? You’ll have to introduce me to this boy of yours someday, Kimmie!” after Kim’s retreating figure.
Usually, Alexi was Kim’s only connection to her home. If Ali was with him in the control room, something was either very wrong or very right. With the way things had been going since she joined up, she doubted it was the latter.
Kim slid into her car, closed the door, and hit the button that soundproofed the vehicle. Only then did she speak directly to her friends. “What’s our story?”
Ali’s voice crackled up. “Are you in your car?” Kim affirmed this, flipping a screen up from the passenger seat and twisting knobs on the radio until a fuzzy image of a young woman in black popped.
After a few moments, the screen became clearer and another face, that of a man, appeared as well. Ali’s eyebrows were slightly closer to each other than usual, a face equivalent to one creased with worry on a person less trained in hiding emotions.
She spoke. “Nadezhda says we’ve located Victoria Fletcher.”
Kim cocked her head. “I’ve been infiltrating her security for four months.”
Ali spoke volumes with her eyes, volumes that said I know, and I’m sorry, but you’re in grave, grave danger, but all her mouth said was “I know.”
Alexi filled in the blanks. “Victoria “Tori” Fletcher, 17, has been living in a safe-house with her mother, sanctioned by her father. An American spy has been attending the Downfeld Private Academy under her name in the hopes of identifying and eliminating any foreign spies hoping to attack the Elected King through his children.”
Kim glanced towards the school, but the parking lot was empty. Turning back to her computer screen, she said “It seems to have worked.”
Ali spoke once more. “Drive to base 5-5-9-14. We’ll pick you up from their. Abort your mission. It’s laid with traps.”
Kim nodded and turned her key in the ignition. Nothing happened. She swallowed and tried again. Still nothing. Trying for the third time, and turning off the soundproofing, Kim heard a soft tapping from her window. She turned her head achingly slowly.
Tori leaned against the door, grinning, holding a bottle of 92.87% nitric acid in one hand and a wicked looking blade in the other. She waved the blade sweetly at Kim and slammed her foot into the window.
~
Rules Code: [Validated by "Oh, hello, Cymru. Cheery weather we're having, isn't it?"]
~
About The Roleplayer:
About Me: Aww, you guys want to know about me? I’m flattered. I’m really into sci-fi: Doctor Who, Farscape, Stargate, Firefly, and Dollhouse. Larry Niven is a fabulous author, as is Terry Pratchett (and Rowling, Pierce, Riordan, Collins… A whole host of YA authors.) I’m not super into anime and manga—like I said, I’m here for the zombies—but I’ll watch and/or read it if I like the plot. The plot is the key! I’m fifteen, my name is Melissa, and I also write poetry about corrupt policemen, suicide, and torture. Cheery stuff.
~
Pairing Preferences: I’ve got none (for this character)! Basically, until I decide something serious should happen in Wales’s romantic life (or until one of you decides that) I’m totally open to him being a player. Or a romantic failure, if nobody loves me ☹
~
Personal Note: You are absolutely freaking gorgeous. Also, I like your shoes. No, not those ones. Those ones. To the right. Yes, those ones.
