Post by Viola D. on Jun 4, 2009 12:28:54 GMT -6
VIOLA DAWSON
Name: Viola Ava Dawson
Age: 21
Gender: female
Height: 5'8''
Weight: 136
Hair/Eyes: Black/Purple
Clothing Style: Either causal or classy, it depends on her mood. She loves black though
Riding Style: Mainly western, but some english too
Riding Experience: about 15 years
Likes:
[/li][li] ReadingName: Viola Ava Dawson
Age: 21
Gender: female
Height: 5'8''
Weight: 136
Hair/Eyes: Black/Purple
Clothing Style: Either causal or classy, it depends on her mood. She loves black though
Riding Style: Mainly western, but some english too
Riding Experience: about 15 years
Likes:
[/li][li] Music
[/li][li] Travel
[/li][li] Water
[/li][li] Alchool
[/li][li] The Rain
[/li][li] Cars
[/li][li] Men
Dislikes:
[x] Cherful People
[x] Dresses
[x] Reckless people
[x] strong scents
[x] stubborn people (even though she's one)
[x] Spiders
[x] Dark waters
[x] Noise
[x] Ignorant people
[x] Being told what to do
Fears:
[ ] Death
Habits:
[ _ ] Chewing on her lip
[ _ ] Flipping her hair
Goals:
[] Be recognized for her work instead of her father's name
Overall Personality:
Viola is usually a calm person. She tends to tollerate most things. However, this doesn't mean she'll let everything go. Even though she pretty much keeps to herself, she still has some attitude problems. Now, she's not the girl to go and search for a fight, but she's bound to fight back when called for. She is not a big people person, and she'll normally be somewhat rude, but once she befriends someone she'll do anything for that person.
Another thing you can say about V is that she is a perfectionist. Yup. Everything must be perfect, otherwise it won't work for her. Failure is not an option for her, she is willing to keep on trying and trying until something fully meets her standards. This connects with another part of her personality; she is one of the most stubborn people in the world. Whenever she sets her mind into something, she won't stop until she does it and there's nothing one could say to make her change her mind. Her clothing style reflects her personality and her experiences, and you can see her in something as formal as a suit and in the next day with some crazy, multicolored shirt and leggins... also, her style often has elements from other cultures, wich she picked up during her travels.
Mother: Melissa Dawson
Father: John Dawson
Siblings: none
Spouse: none, yet
Job: Freelance Photographer and Volunteer at the rescue
History: V’s life was what one could call easy. From her father’s side came the so called ‘old-money’, along with his incoming as a lawyer. Her mother’s family wasn’t as wealthy as her father’s, but they loved each other and that was all that mattered. Once they got married, they found a home with lots of space and settled in, with all the comfort money could provide. After a couple of years of marriage, their first and only child was born. Viola Ava Dawson.
The girl grew up well. She had two loving parents who loved her to death, a huge house in which she could play, and tons of people to get her what she wanted. To some, this kind of childhood might make them think she’d grow into a spoiled brat, but she didn’t. Her parents made sure she’d have a proper education, and especially made sure she knew she wouldn’t get what she wanted unless she deserved it. So V grew up knowing that she would always have to work in order to attain her goals, no matter what was her background.
She always proved to be the model daughter; she never gave her parents that much trouble. She was a great student too, her strive to perfection was particularly visible there. However, the girl had always had a fondness for the arts, being extremely skilled at drawing and writing, and having a true passion for photography.
That was why she chose to be a photographer, even though her father would pretty much wanted her to be a Lawyer. She still as to fight with this, having her name associated with her father's firm. She lived in Sidney, even though she spent most of her time travelling, and now moved to Hope Springs to help at the rescue.
Roleplay Sample:
from our old site xD
The younger girl flinched at the tone she heard on her sister’s voice when she was ‘greeted’. Yup, she and rose had pretty much been like this for ever. They talked with each other the least they could, and whenever they talked to each other they managed to end up arguing badly. This made her unsure about taking a ride back to the rescue, even if that meant having to walk all the way there, since her car had been confiscated. Theoretically, she had a car, and it was hers from the day she had become sixteen. However, her parents had decided that until she was able to behave herself she wasn’t going to really have it. But still, she would have chosen walking to the rescue if she wasn’t so god damn tired right now… maybe it had been from the blood loss? Or simply because she had walked all the way from the park to the hospital. She sighed, following her sister.~
While she was walking behind Rosalie, Gina couldn’t help but notice how different they were. Physically, they looked nothing alike, even in their way of dressing. While Gina had this somewhat boyish style, Rosalie was, what one could call, girly. If people didn’t know them, they would never had guessed they were sisters. And of course their relationship didn’t help at all. It’s hard to believe you’re someone’s sister when you hate her guts. But it’s better not to start counting the differences between the two of them, otherwise we won’t make it. She was pulled out of her thoughts once she heard the sound of a door slamming shut. She sighed again and rushed inside, buckling as soon as she closed the door. One thing she knew about her sister, she could drive like a maniac when she was mad. As soon as Rose turned the radio on, Gina had to hold another sigh and an eye-roll. Country music.
She stared at the window while she waited for it to begin. Her eyes were on the landscape but not really seeing it. “Nothing happened” she said, keeping her blank stare at the window “I was at the park, I tripped and hurt my arm on some rocks” she explained, trying her best to keep herself in control, and not shout or start to cry. As if she was going to cry in front of Rosalie. But somehow she knew there were going to be some shouting, oh yeah. And why was that? Because Rosalie wouldn’t believe in her. She was so used to it, that she had given up trying to explain anything to them, keeping herself to the basic things and never getting into much detail. Why bother? They would never believe in her.
A sharp pain rushed through her arm and she bit her lip in order to keep it down, while she waited for the next outburst.
While she was walking behind Rosalie, Gina couldn’t help but notice how different they were. Physically, they looked nothing alike, even in their way of dressing. While Gina had this somewhat boyish style, Rosalie was, what one could call, girly. If people didn’t know them, they would never had guessed they were sisters. And of course their relationship didn’t help at all. It’s hard to believe you’re someone’s sister when you hate her guts. But it’s better not to start counting the differences between the two of them, otherwise we won’t make it. She was pulled out of her thoughts once she heard the sound of a door slamming shut. She sighed again and rushed inside, buckling as soon as she closed the door. One thing she knew about her sister, she could drive like a maniac when she was mad. As soon as Rose turned the radio on, Gina had to hold another sigh and an eye-roll. Country music.
She stared at the window while she waited for it to begin. Her eyes were on the landscape but not really seeing it. “Nothing happened” she said, keeping her blank stare at the window “I was at the park, I tripped and hurt my arm on some rocks” she explained, trying her best to keep herself in control, and not shout or start to cry. As if she was going to cry in front of Rosalie. But somehow she knew there were going to be some shouting, oh yeah. And why was that? Because Rosalie wouldn’t believe in her. She was so used to it, that she had given up trying to explain anything to them, keeping herself to the basic things and never getting into much detail. Why bother? They would never believe in her.
A sharp pain rushed through her arm and she bit her lip in order to keep it down, while she waited for the next outburst.
