Post by MAJIDA "Miracle" DESAI on Jun 8, 2009 17:11:57 GMT -5
MAJIDAChetanDESAI
[/size][/font]"For how long will you try?
How long until you walk away?
Your facade can't disguise the fact that you're in misery."
How long until you walk away?
Your facade can't disguise the fact that you're in misery."
BUT IF THEY PUBLISH THIS PICTURE
[/color]you have the choice to sue them[/size][/center]
YOU START WITH YOURSELF
[/size]and you work backwards[/font][/center]
NAME: [M]ajida skwew [R]ajani 'isha [C]hetan [L]ekha [E]cho
(or Miracle for short) Desai
NICKNAMES: Miracle
AGE: 17
GENDER: Female
GRADE: Senior
POWER(S): Since her powers developed at 12, she has worked on seeing just how much she could accomplish with her gift, practicing whenever she could. It wasn't until two years ago when she was finally able to create water from its liquid state, but only enough to fill an 8oz cup. Since then she has gotten quite proficient in manipulating any source of water, turning it easily through the stages, but only up to a certain amount, such as the equivalent of a small children's pool. Now she can directly create up to a gallon of water, but trying to gain more seems to draw from her own body water and can make her severely dehydrated quickly.
HOUSE:
LENTA---elemental (ice, wind, fire, earth, water, shadow etc)
I WAS A PERSONALITY BEFORE
[/size]i became a person[/font][/center]
FEARS:
- Being married to someone she doesn't know
- Never learning how to control her powers so she can be somewhat normal
DREAMS:
- To dance more freely
- Help her family like she was meant to
SECRETS:
THREE BEST TRAITS:
THREE WORST TRAITS:
IT'S STUPID AND IT'S STRANGE
[/size]it's a directionless story[/font][/center]
PARENTS: Nohemi Ynez Desai, mother, 38, CEO of Glass Enterprises
Naadir Akeem Desai, father, 42, CEO of Desai Industries
SIBLINGS: N/A
OTHER IMPORTANT FAMILY:
Maternal Grandmother: Odalys Perlita Glass, 70, Owner of Glass Enterprises
HISTORY:
Miracle's beginnings, as most do, start with the meeting of her parents, their love affair, and marriage, etc. Naadir Desai and then Nohemi Glass were both the heirs to fortune 500 families so to speak. Their families held old money, passed down from generation to generation, though Nohemi's family acquired a good portion of their wealth relatively late, with the creation of Glass Enterprises. Nohemi's great-grandfather and great uncle had founded a pharmaceutical company that was quick to rise up in the industry. Nohemi's late grandfather took over once he graduated from college, bringing it to the multi-billion dollar company it is today, giving it to his son and his granddaughter in his will.
Naadir's family had inherited from the oil industry at the very beginning in the Middle East, quickly becoming billionaires within a few years. His great great grandfather (yes, oil was big way back in the day) found a way to triple the money gained by buying out several oil companies and then selling them back at three times their original costs. Needless to say they lived in the lap of luxury, both families, on different sides of the world. So how did they meet so that Miracle could come to be?
Their families sent them both to boarding schools in France, wanting them to become well versed in the world's languages and knowledge. It wasn't until Nohemi's sophomore year, Naadir's senior year, in high school before they even crossed paths. They happened to be taking the same fourth year French class, because Nohemi's Father was fluent in French and Arabic, and Naadir needed tutoring. Things went from tutoring to hanging out, then dates, and eventually, after university at Oxford (yes they followed each other there), engagement and marriage.
A year later, the newly wed couple had been visiting her grandmother far in the country where she retired, when her water broke. Thirteen hours and 27 minutes of labor later, Miracle was born with the cord wrapped around her neck, but perfectly fine. The reason behind the very long name was neither her father nor her mother could decide on names, Nohemi wanting to give her Spanish names, and Naadir wanting to name her Arabic names. So they compromised, with guidance from Nohemi's grandmother, and the initials just happened to spell Miracle. As a nickname, they continued to call her Miracle, considering she could have died during the birth and it stuck.
A a child, Miracle was given many luxuries that people would be envious for, but her parents were not the kind to just let her run amuck. They had a firm hand over her life, strict when needing to be, both weaving their cultures and lifestyles into their young child. When they were in Naadir's country, they had to be covered. While they were in New York, Miracle was usually left with her grandmother while her parents attended business meetings and things of that nature. They didn't want to send their only child away to a boarding school, but she had the very best home tutors, teaching her seven languages including Arabic and French, and her grandmother teaching her Spanish.
By the time she reached the age for high school, the family had settled in New York, her mother taking full control over the company. They bought a mansion just on the outskirts of the city with a penthouse apartment downtown so that Miracle doesn't have to go far after school or work. When they enrolled her in the local high school, her test scores let her skip an entire year.
Another event happened that year. Her mother, who had been wanting for years to get out of the business, decided that it was time to teach Miracle the ways of their world. She would be engrossed in the company, learning the ends and outs of every level so that she could take over for her mother once she graduated from college. They both knew that Miracle had plans to go to possibly law school, but it was something she could do on the side, and still run the company.
The only thing that came into play where that was concerned was the fact that Miracle was....different. Since she was twelve, they had been dealing with the fact that Miracle could manipulate water, not completely under her control for when she got angry they had to be wary of pipes bursting, or, when it came to introducing her to suitors, them being scared away when she blasts them with water in lieu of punching them. When they received the letter, they believed it to be a godsend and sent her away immediately. Now she has a year to get a handle on her ability or risk losing her family.
GIVE HIM A MASK AND
[/size]he will tell you the truth[/font][/center]
NAME: Cassy
EXPERIENCE: 10 years maybe?
RP EXAMPLE:
It was a surprise to know that not everyone was aware of the breakout, at least information wise. There actually were some that only knew that an attack had gone down with the two major aeries of the area and time had gone past. You would think that anyone with any ties whatsoever with such events would keep tabs on the happenings around them. But that wasn't Dante.
He had been away from his aerie, meditating on the mountain tops when he felt the pain. Over the years, he found that meditation let him connect to the earth and the living beings on it without the necessity of powers. It was a spiritual connection, something that every being with a soul is capable of if they take the time to use what has been given to them. And it was this ability that brought him from the mountain top. He felt pain within his kind, and the radiating effects of such fighting and hate. As it were, he remembered when most of his kind had been brought from their sleep by the humans, but he always believed it to be just what happens when something doesn't understand what it doesn't know.
The only thing about it was that it had led to the constant fights, tension, and lingering hatred for the past few decades. He had retreated to his mountain top to practice becoming like these humans and Psionics, changing his form to blend into them should he want to investigate things himself and just see what was going on. He had managed to perfect his form to the point he barely showed any scales, those that did show easily covered with clothing, even on warm days. His wings hid easily in his back, comfortable to even done a jacket if necessary. But he hadn't found the need to use this form until now.
Though the main pain had past just over a week ago, he continued to feel the need and desire to explore, to see what had changed from over the years up close and personal. Something was just pulling at him to dawn the clothes of the age and walk among them even for a few hours every day. Things were even worse than before, the fear, hate, anger among the two-legged ones. It had taken that week to find out, just from whispers and rumors, what had gone down, and he didn't agree with it at all. Lives were lost or permanently scarred from it and it was unnecessary and not in their right.
Shaking his head, he walked the streets alone, managing to not draw any attention towards himself. Everyone was jittery, looking over their shoulders over the slightest little noise, or glaring at anyone that seemed to stand out. All of it unnerved him, and he went into an alley to let out a cool breath and steady himself so he didn't reveal himself in any way. That was how he nearly tripped over a jacket thrown carelessly onto the ground. Bending down to pick it up, he got a huge whiff of a female dragon from the cloth. His eyes widened as he took a moment to take in the entire area. Blood, acid... it was a green dragon. And she had been attacked here not too long ago.
His entire body seemed to tense in a rage that was no where near its highest potential. Dante wasn't going to let himself lose it when he didn't have a body to go with the scent. Looking around him, he was certain that there wasn't anyone around as he picked up the jacket and held it in his hand to keep the scent clear enough for him and off he went, following the escape route of a very scared, and hurt dragon.
Down another street and through an alley some distance away, the scent led him to an abandoned building that could be the scene for who knew what. Swallowing his anger and flashbacks to an event he thought he had gotten over, he once more made sure there was no one else around before diving into the building, hot on his pursuit. What he was expecting to find, he didn't know, nor did he believe it to be good, especially when his path brought him to a smear of blood on the wall. Lightly touching his fingertips to it and bringing it to his nose, he could tell that it was fresh, that the one that left it had been alive when the mark was made. And he only moved faster to find it.
Terror, pure terror was his trail to follow, faint as it was after all this time, but he followed it hard, hoping that at the end, he would find this dragon alive. Even as he found a set of stairs to go down, he was convinced that, considering that there were no other smells to mingle in it that the dragon was still breathing and he wasn't going to give up. Once in the basement, he stood still in the middle of the floor and closed his eyes. Breathing...
He walked over to the closet, hidden in half darkness where not many would haven noticed. A deep breath led him to reach out and slowly open the door, not trying to scare her if she indeed was there. "Is anyone here?" he called out as he peered into the darkness, seeing a curled up form in the back of the closet. He neither moved forward or moved back, but he bent his knees slightly, poised for anything. Greens had a mean spit if they were upset, and the last thing he wanted was to lose half his face for being nice.
He had been away from his aerie, meditating on the mountain tops when he felt the pain. Over the years, he found that meditation let him connect to the earth and the living beings on it without the necessity of powers. It was a spiritual connection, something that every being with a soul is capable of if they take the time to use what has been given to them. And it was this ability that brought him from the mountain top. He felt pain within his kind, and the radiating effects of such fighting and hate. As it were, he remembered when most of his kind had been brought from their sleep by the humans, but he always believed it to be just what happens when something doesn't understand what it doesn't know.
The only thing about it was that it had led to the constant fights, tension, and lingering hatred for the past few decades. He had retreated to his mountain top to practice becoming like these humans and Psionics, changing his form to blend into them should he want to investigate things himself and just see what was going on. He had managed to perfect his form to the point he barely showed any scales, those that did show easily covered with clothing, even on warm days. His wings hid easily in his back, comfortable to even done a jacket if necessary. But he hadn't found the need to use this form until now.
Though the main pain had past just over a week ago, he continued to feel the need and desire to explore, to see what had changed from over the years up close and personal. Something was just pulling at him to dawn the clothes of the age and walk among them even for a few hours every day. Things were even worse than before, the fear, hate, anger among the two-legged ones. It had taken that week to find out, just from whispers and rumors, what had gone down, and he didn't agree with it at all. Lives were lost or permanently scarred from it and it was unnecessary and not in their right.
Shaking his head, he walked the streets alone, managing to not draw any attention towards himself. Everyone was jittery, looking over their shoulders over the slightest little noise, or glaring at anyone that seemed to stand out. All of it unnerved him, and he went into an alley to let out a cool breath and steady himself so he didn't reveal himself in any way. That was how he nearly tripped over a jacket thrown carelessly onto the ground. Bending down to pick it up, he got a huge whiff of a female dragon from the cloth. His eyes widened as he took a moment to take in the entire area. Blood, acid... it was a green dragon. And she had been attacked here not too long ago.
His entire body seemed to tense in a rage that was no where near its highest potential. Dante wasn't going to let himself lose it when he didn't have a body to go with the scent. Looking around him, he was certain that there wasn't anyone around as he picked up the jacket and held it in his hand to keep the scent clear enough for him and off he went, following the escape route of a very scared, and hurt dragon.
Down another street and through an alley some distance away, the scent led him to an abandoned building that could be the scene for who knew what. Swallowing his anger and flashbacks to an event he thought he had gotten over, he once more made sure there was no one else around before diving into the building, hot on his pursuit. What he was expecting to find, he didn't know, nor did he believe it to be good, especially when his path brought him to a smear of blood on the wall. Lightly touching his fingertips to it and bringing it to his nose, he could tell that it was fresh, that the one that left it had been alive when the mark was made. And he only moved faster to find it.
Terror, pure terror was his trail to follow, faint as it was after all this time, but he followed it hard, hoping that at the end, he would find this dragon alive. Even as he found a set of stairs to go down, he was convinced that, considering that there were no other smells to mingle in it that the dragon was still breathing and he wasn't going to give up. Once in the basement, he stood still in the middle of the floor and closed his eyes. Breathing...
He walked over to the closet, hidden in half darkness where not many would haven noticed. A deep breath led him to reach out and slowly open the door, not trying to scare her if she indeed was there. "Is anyone here?" he called out as he peered into the darkness, seeing a curled up form in the back of the closet. He neither moved forward or moved back, but he bent his knees slightly, poised for anything. Greens had a mean spit if they were upset, and the last thing he wanted was to lose half his face for being nice.
