Post by uenmigoto on Apr 10, 2011 14:32:01 GMT -5
UenRubi Migoto
Today was a fairytale, you were the prince
[/color]Today was a fairytale, you were the prince
I used to be a damsel in distress[/font][/color]
Today was a fairytale[/color] [/center]
Name[/color]: Uen [yoo-en] Rubi Migoto
Age[/color]: 21 (nearly 22 ; birthday in June)
Grade[/color]: Third Year
Gender[/color]: Female
Sexual Orientation[/color]: Bi-sexual [mostly straight]
Face Claim[/color]: Kuon Ginga from Best Student Council
Canon or Original[/color]: Original
Today was a fairytale, I wore a dress
[/color]You wore a dark gray t-shirt[/font][/color]
You told me I was pretty when I looked like a mess[/color] [/center]
Height:[/color] 5 ' 7 "
Weight:[/color] 120 lbs.
Eyes:[/color] very dark blue
Hair:[/color] platinum blonde
Scars/Tattoos/Other Markings:[/color] many tattoos all over body; back, arms, neck, right side are most noticeable
Summary: [/color]
Uen is a very stunning woman; she's average height with a very athletic, sexy build. She'd be what people would consider a "California girl". She's got the perfect tan all the time and has long, gorgeous, flowing bright blonde hair. She could easily be a model, if she had that drive in life. She has the deepest, darkest blue eyes that anyone has ever seen. When she's angry, they appear almost black. When she's excited, on the other hand, they lighten up to a bit more favorable blue color. Uen has a very attractive nature, and it all starts in the face; she has very smooth, flawless skin and ideal angles to her facial structure. Her lips are always a soft, smooth, glossy pink color.
On the right side of her body she has very intricate tribal tattoos; they go up from about halfway down her thigh, up her hip and across the small of her back, then up the side of her back and on her side over her shoulderblades. They continue up her neck, stopping at the jaw line, and it swirls down her arm to stop at her palm. There is another tattoo across her shoulders that swirls down her left arm; this one goes all along the back of her hand, though, and goes out on her knuckles. They don't make clear images; they're just like rose vines and vivid swirls. When it comes to fashion, Uen either tends to dress a little bit below the average dress code or very relaxed. She doesn't dress like a whore, nor does she dress like a slob, but seeing her dressed neatly would be like seeing a pig at a table using proper dinner etiquette.
You've got a smile that takes me to another planet
[/color]Every move you make, everything you say is right[/font][/color]
Today was a fairytale[/color] [/center]
Likes:[/color]
To put it simply, Uen is a little bit bipolar. Her intentions aren't always clear. She's very deep and complicated inside, so much that she doesn't even know what she wants.On the outside, on most occasions, Uen is a very confident - maybe even cocky -, fun-loving, easy-going, social, slightly provocative, instigative, and slightly dim woman. She seems to be off in her own little world; she takes pleasure in the fact that everyone, within their first year at Kingdom University, knows who she is. She likes that people know her name. She likes making enemies almost as much as she likes making friends because it makes things more interesting that way. She's a real spitfire; it seems that she can be set off by even the slightest tone in someone's voice. It's always wise to tread lightly when talking to her, though really you can never tell what's going to make her snap.
When not around her friends, however, Uen is a lot more docile. She's more calm, relaxed, and focused. All the silly things that made her laugh when the others were around now don't even catch her interest. When she's in class, she tends to avoid her other friends so that she can focus on the lessons and the schoolwork. If she can't get away then she can't focus. When on her own during class, she's very down to business and she's always ready to take notes. All Uen wants is to succeed; she doesn't like when people are disappointed in her, so she does whatever she can to gain the favor of others by doing well in school. She gets on the good side of all her teachers - or she attempts to - and she's always doing extracurricular activities. She wants to be the best of the best, which is part of her cocky attitude. She's a sore loser. She can take on almost all personalities at one point or another, depending on the situation. She takes no preference to boys or girls as lovers and friends.
SCHOOL ID:[/color]
| [atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][cs=2] Kingdom University [atrb=style, background: #C0c0c0; width: 360px; border: 1px solid #000000, bTable] | |
 | Name: Uen Rubi Migoto Age: 21 Grade Level: 3rd Year Residence: n/a |
All that I can say is that it's getting so much clearer
[/color]Nothing made sense until the time I saw your face[/font][/color]
Today was a fairytale[/color] [/center]
Mother:[/color] Megami Hibana [Ririshii] Migoto
Father:[/color] Hunter David Migoto
Siblings:[/color] none
History: [/color]
Uen was born on another world called Butterfly Cavern to a woman named Megami and a man named Hunter. She has a large portion of Japanese ancestry in her, but by her appearance and her attitude it's hard to tell. Uen's parents were both very wealthy when they were married, and with their combined wealth, they got everything that they could ever want. A year after they were married, they had a beautiful girl who they named Uen, which means "devious"; ever since she'd been born, she'd always been known for getting into trouble and starting fights with other kids. Her parents loved her very much, despite her rather aggressive disposition, and they always gave her the best of everything. She went to a private school most of her life and her parents kept her in by large payments, despite numerous times that they tried to expel her for bad behavior.
Despite Uen's apparent lack of good social skills, she was the head of all of her classes. In the sports that she took a part in - such as track and field, cross country, tennis, etc. - she was always either the head of the team or one of the most valuable players. She lead her schools to many victories, and that was how she'd gotten such a cocky attitude. Because of her success in academics and extracurricular skill, she wasn't expendable; the schools suffered with her until she had finally graduated the private school. Her parents were beyond disappointed when Uen received no scholarships, and so instead they shipped her right off to Kingdom University, paying for her to get in. In her first year, she instantly got a name for herself. She became something like a party girl, and though she gained that name, everyone also knew her as a very dedicated student.
However, Uen learned, now that she was in this school, that she was no longer the best of the best. This entire school was made up of the best of the best, and now she would have to try even harder to be noticed and valued by the other members of the university. She took part in a fair number of the clubs and sports, she got a job, and she made a lot of friends, even with the teachers. She's always trying to get on top; she's very competitive.
Time slows down whenever you're around
[/color]I can feel my heart, it's beating in my chest[/font][/color]
Did you feel it?[/color] [/center]
Your Name:[/color] Elaine
How Did You Find Us?[/color] via Final Distance!
Play Any Other Characters?[/color] none
Contact Info:[/color]
RP SAMPLE:[/color]
Yep. The ceiling looked the same no matter which way you turned. Flickering gold and blue eyes twitched this way and that. Head hung over the side of the bed, hair extended towards the floor, arms limply hung over his head, fingers gently tugging at spiked tufts of shaded golden-brown hair, feet pressed against the wall, Tyler watched and watched as the ceiling did... nothing. Nothing at all. Every little dimple and dent, every slight raise in the roof, looked identical to the dimple or dent next to it.
Occasionally, he would spot a patch of ceiling that was slightly more eggshell colored than white, as the rest of his ceiling, and he'd let his eyes stop and that area and he'd lay and ponder how such change in color could have occurred, but his six year old mind couldn't focus on such a simple idea as that for much more than two minutes. At that point he would let his gaze search again for something of interest, and ten minutes later he'd see... nothing. Nothing at all. He'd been doing this, doing it the same way for nearly three hours now.
He had tossed and turned in his bed. The sheets now lay in a tangle on the floor at the foot of his bed. His parents would likely beat him for that later. Tyler suddenly grimaced as a slight, fiery pain began to spread, beginning at his eyes and then taking over all of his skin cells, making him squirm. He sat up slowly, turning to press his bare back against the cold wall, sighing silently as it relieved the burning sensation. If the light were on, Tyler could see what color he'd changed to this time. He found that, if he stayed still for long enough, and he just relaxed enough, his skin would just stop trying to fight the abnormal colorations and just go to something relaxed.
Tyler's eyes focused on the thin blade of light making its way through his cracked door; the light came from the little bulb above the oven, and occasionally it flickered, but Tyler never understood why. He was never allowed to leave his room, except to go to the bathroom, so he never had a chance to investigate. He wanted to see why it flickered the way it did. He wanted to know. But he would never get a chance, because he was prisoner to the white ceiling and his own peculiar skin; he was a prisoner to his own mother and father, the people who, in fairy tales, loved their child more than anything. But Tyler wasn't a child. He was a freak.
When he started to think about it, his mother and father had been gone for a long time. They'd been gone for so long... Tyler felt a shiver go up his slightly protruding spine. No matter how he feared them, no matter how they treated him so hatefully for being a freak, he still feared the days when they would leave and never return, leave and never come back for him, come back to look at him, even with those scornful eyes that bore into his skull. But his thoughts were interrupted, suddenly, as his stomach let out a low growl that vibrated all throughout his body. His skin suddenly cooled, and he knew that, at his sudden realization, his skin had returned to normal.
Slowly, he extended his legs, letting his feet hang just over the edge of his bed. His heart began to race. Would he really consider this option? Would he truly consider it? Would he consider... consider...
He inched forward on the bed, and he bent his knees, stiffening as his feet touched the cold floor; he shivered, and his breath caught in his throat. He instantly began to question his choice, but there was no turning back. The muscles of his legs ached from staying in one position for so long; they ached to carry the weight of his thin body, and his hands ached to feel the door against his palm, and his feet ached to feel hardwood floor freezing his toes. It was a peculiar desire, and yet it was what he desired above all else.
This was what he desired, and slowly he erected himself on his feet; for a moment he swayed, but he felt his long tail slither up the length of his calf and out over the top of his loose jeans. Its tip settled against the floor and worked as a third leg for Tyler, merely to steady him. As his legs adjusted once more to standing, he gazed at the crack in the door with wide eyes. He took a step. His heart skipped a beat. And then he took another step. And again he lost a beat. But then his heart steadied, and he bit his lip softly, and he lurched towards the door, feeling the cold metal against his palm and sticking to his nervously sweating fingers.
He pulled slowly, and the door creaked open. The light blinded him, even though it was little more than a dull glow above the oven. And, like a moth, he was drawn towards that flickering light. A part of him knew this light, knew that, like fire, it bore consequences, should he choose to proceed, to step through the doorway between him, the hall, and, then, the kitchen and that flickering fire bulb. But he continued to move, leaving the door ajar as he stepped closer and closer to that light. His tail, now not needed as a steady, dragged along the ground behind him.
Tyler folded his arms tightly over his chest, shivering with cold and, also, with excitement derived from fear. He crossed the hall, glancing down into the darkness to where a big black door stopped the passageway in its tracks; this room struck fear into Tyler's heart, for this was where his mother and father would lay each night after washing their terrified, bleeding child off in the shower and then tossing him into the cold floor of his dark room to suffer alone. That room was where, he was certain, his parents would lay and plot the next night's beating, should he cough and remind them that their freak was still alive.
Tyler returned his gaze to the light in the kitchen; for a moment, it flickered off, and then the light returned to blind and attract him. The room at the end of the hall was not what mattered now. Only the light mattered. Only the light... the light... He swallowed, and now a wall stood between him and that hall. He approached the counter, and his eyes faded to a pale rose pink, a color of curiosity, and he put his fingers over the edge of the counter, grasping it and staring with a gaping jaw up at the light. Then his stomach growled again, distracting him. And then, a shining box of metal attracted his eyes; his eyes turned golden as he recognized it, associated it. It contained food.
He glanced at the front door. Nothing moved. He returned his gaze, glistening amber, to the bread box, and he saw a little corner of plastic, the corner of a bag of bagels, and he stared at his hand in amazement as it moved towards the bagels. Never before had he allowed his hands to so blatantly disobey his parents, but now here they were, sliding open the box and grasping the edge of the bag, tearing open the plastic - for the concept of a twist tie was not one to be grasped by a child so young - and taking out a moist bagel.
He brought it to his lips and tore off a bite, and feeling his stomach's snarling begin to ebb, he continued to eat. He reached vainly up at a cabinet to the right; it was too high above him, so he pressed his palms against the edge of the counter and pulled himself up, straining slightly. Instead of choosing to continue rising and stand on the counter, he slowly willed his tail to reach up over his head, swing open the cabinet, and grab a glass.
As he let himself drop, he felt his heart rise into his throat as, suddenly, two things happened: one, the glass slipped from the ring his tail had made to grasp the glass, crashing to the hardwood floor and shooting out in every which direction. The second was the one which Tyler feared the most, for there was suddenly a hissing gasp outside the front door, followed by a muffled, "What the hell is going on in there? Damn it all, Carlisle, open the fucking door!" Tyler felt his entire body begin to quiver and shake, and he longed to just be back in his room, be back in time of a sudden so they wouldn't know what he'd just done.
He made a move for his room, but a shard of glass automatically stopped him. He bit his lip, silencing his short-lived cry of pain, and he fixed his eyes on the door like a frightened deer would fix its eyes on the headlights of a car as the distance between them fell victim to oblivion. The door suddenly shot open, and a breeze of freezing air hit Tyler, paralyzing him even more than his fear had already done to him. Blazing eyes that, in the dim light, seemed black like the night, instantly locked on him, and he fell to his knees.
He didn't even have time to squint his eyes, to hide from the nightmare, before one long stride brought his father's heavy hand down upon his skull; the man grabbed a fistful of the child's hair and yanked him off the ground. Face to face they now were, and Tyler knew better than to avoid his father's gaze. He opened his eyes that were now a frozen lime green and black, fearful. The man snarled, "The fuck were you doing, you little faggot?" He threw his son to the hard wood ground, against the floor littered with glass, and Tyler let out a short gasp of pain.
Lesson number two of being this wretched man's son: never scream. The man towered over the small boy who trembled, his right side and elbows cut by the glass. Tyler looked up, lip quivering, tears already streaming down his thin face. The man cried out as he kicked at the exposed ribs of his son, "What the fuck did you think you were doing out of your room, freak? Huh? You think you can just waltz around like you own the damn place?" He looked over his shoulder at the cold, fragile witch standing by the door.
"Get the fucking belt," he ordered her. She shut the door softly and glided like a shadow down the hall, casting a scornful look at her son before she disappeared around the corner. Carlisle looked upon the shaking body of his son, and he barked, "Answer my God damn question, you little bastard!" Tyler sobbed once and the man reached down again, yanking Tyler up by his arm and then throwing him at the oven; his head slammed against the metal handle, but his father did not yield to the whimper the child let out.
He proceeded to kick the child repeatedly, and then Tyler could no longer hold in his cries; he let out a wail of pain and fear, and this only further encouraged the wrath of his father. "You wretched little fuck!" he screamed, kicking his child in the jaw and almost instantly silencing the sound. The witch appeared around the corner once more, and she handed a thin belt with metal studs placed evenly across its length to her husband; he grasped it firmly and turned, lifting his arm and then snapping it down fiercely. It caught Tyler beside his eye, and the child could barely breathe from the pain of the blow.
Carlisle reached down again, grabbing Tyler by the hair and lifting him up, shoving him against the door and snarling venomously, "Take it like a bitch, you little freak." All that Tyler could do was shield his face from the thin metal and leather belt that his father had proclaimed the whipping belt and try not to cry out and scream at each stinging blow that made his entire body swell; his tail had slipped back into his pants and now tightly wrapped around Tyler's thigh, tightening and releasing with each blow to try to ease the pain.
There was no easing that pain that came with this abuse, none of the pain that Tyler felt when the people who were supposed to love him more than anything in the world could be made better... The whip hit him hard in the side, and he attempted foolishly to block what had already occurred, but as he did so the whip came up abruptly and hit his face; the stinging metal hit his eye, and he shrieked in pain as he felt a warm gush of blood pour out over his eyelid and saw his vision go entirely red.
He swore, sometimes, that his father was a vampire or sorts; at first blood, when the minuscule droplet touched the floor, his father would go berserk, and then Tyler stood no chance and there was no hope of him being spared for that night. He fell to his knees and again his father's foot connected with his jaw, sending Tyler's head slamming back into the door. What little cries he could now manage were little more than whimpers. He felt, then, as if he were in a dream, and every blow tried to strike him awake, but he was trapped between consciousness and unconsciousness and he knew there was no way out.
Then, suddenly, his dream halted. There was silence. Cold, deadly silence. He lay on his belly like a pathetic little snake on the floor, blood and shards of glass all about his body, bruises already beginning to form and making the small frail sore and stiff. Tyler tried to remember what had happened. When had his parents stopped beating him? How much of what he'd thought was a dream had really been real, and how much of what he thought had been real was really a dream? His head was swimming with pain and exhaustion, but he was certain that soon he'd recover to be beaten again.
The only thing that Tyler wanted now was to get up and crawl into his bed that was stained with blood from endless beatings, but he could not find the strength to move, and the effort brought forth agonizing pain in his chest; he had broken ribs, no doubt. Instead of fighting the exhaustion, he let it take him over; his entire body fell limp, save for his tail, which lay out in the open now. It twitched with pain, as if the beat of Tyler's heart was causing it to move, but no other part of him stirred. He felt the world go entirely dark again, and then, suddenly, something cold and hard and silent made contact with his side and made him groan very softly in pain.
He was awakened again, though only partially, and he could feel a presence looming high above him. A part of him brought true, honest to God fear to the child, for he feared that this thing above him was his father. But... no. Tyler could always feel, truly feel, the malevolence and the hate and the prejudice coming out of his father, pouring directly out of every tiny pore and every cell of skin in his wretched body. He did not feel this from this man... He did not feel anything from this man.
Slowly Tyler turned his head, feeling a mouthful of blood gush from between his lips to collect in a pool on the floor. He let his head flop down in the pool, and he turned his aching eyes up to the figure that stood in the darkness. The boy's eyes turned to a pale mint green that seemed to ripple and blaze like foamy fire, and his lips parted, as though he desired to speak, but could not gather the strength nor form the words.
He couldn't rid himself of a dreadful feeling in his soul. This man... this man had done something. Something... what had he done? Tyler spoke his thoughts unknowingly, slowly beginning to drift back to consciousness as he whispered in a gurgling choke, "What has... he..." Tyler suddenly became aware of his fingers as they twitched, as an attempt to grab the floor, for he felt as though he were literally falling to sleep, and his eyes shot wide, and he finished in little more than a sigh, "done..."
But can you feel this magic in the air?
[/color]It must've been the way you kissed me[/font][/color]
Fell in love when I saw you standing there[/color] [/center]
[/size]
