Post by JEHANNE MARIE D'ARC on Oct 15, 2010 2:26:09 GMT -5
Hi, my name is Thistle and this is my First character. I found this site through RPG Directory. Something you should know about me is I'm a Christian, I'm visually impaired. 
, I'm a PhD student and I write insanely long paragraphs. Just ask my professors. 
Canon: Henry VI, Shakespeare
Custom Title: The Maid
PHYSICAL
Age: 19
Gender: female
Appearance: Joan is small and skinny, often mistaken for a young boy. She has short, close-cropped blonde hair and skin tanned from long exposure to the sun. She's very short, standing at about five feet. Her time on the streets has left her with a gaunt, emaciated look, exacerbated by her already tiny frame.
Height: 5'2
Body: Joan is short and skinny, with a small frame.
Other distinguishing features:
Wardrobe: Joan’s clothes are ragged and full of holes. She wears jeans and tee shirts, along with a threadbare hooded sweatshirt jacket to keep out the cold. She also wears a baseball cap with a fleur de lys and a cross pendent.[/ul]
Play By: Mia Farrow
PERSONALITY
General personality:
Joan is fierce and determined. When she sets her mind on something, she accomplishes it—or she’s willing to die trying. She also has a very strong sense of morality that can lead her to take some pretty extreme measures. She beat up a cheerleader once because the girl was flirting with one of Joan’s friends. She doesn’t swear, but she’s learned to tolerate the habit in others.
Joan is very loyal. If the person in question matches her high standards, she will be that person’s friend for life, and will go any lengths possible to protect that person from harm. She once nearly killed a drug dealer to save one of her fellow street urchins. She’s direct and lacks any sense of tact. If she thinks something, she says it.
Joan is also very religious. She prays a lot, especially to three saints: Saint Michael, Saint Margaret and Saint Catherine. She claims to hear these three voices offering her advice, commentary and occasionally commands. She believes these voices are real and will hotly dispute anyone who says otherwise.
Quotes, frequently used expressions: And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man. I am not afraid, I was born for this!
Likes: (please list at least three)
Dislikes: (please list at least three)
Strengths: loyal, stubborn, compassionate
Weaknesses: judgmental, arrogant, suspicious
BACKGROUND
Family: Jacques D’Arc (Father) Isabelle Romee (Mother) Catherine (sister) Jaquiem (brother) Jehan (brother) Pierre (brother).
Education: She made C’s and dropped out of school when she was thirteen.
Occupation: She panhandles for money on the streets.
Worst past experience: Being arrested and locked up in the mental institution-from which she escaped.
Best past experience: Hearing her Voices for the first time.
Image: Most people would see Joan as just another crazy street person. However, the few who have actually taken the time to get to know her would find that she can be very sweet once her tough as nails exterior is breached.
History:
Joan was born to Jacques and Isabelle on January 6th. Her parents had a fairly nice farm in Iowa. They lived a few miles from a very small town that no one has ever heard of. They raised sheep and sold vegetables at the local farmers’ market. Joan’s mom was a volunteer at a battered women’s shelter and her dad was a member of the city council.
Up until she was thirteen, Joan’s life was fairly typical. She went to school, muddled through and helped out on the farm. She didn’t care much for school, as she had problems with reading and writing. By the age of thirteen, she could hardly read and her handwriting looked more like chicken scratches than actual handwriting. She also went to the small Catholic church in the town so often that the priest gave her a key so she could let herself in to pray when he was busy with the confessional.
At thirteen, her life changed dramatically. She began to hear voices, accompanied by an intensely bright light. These voices first came to her when she was weeding her dad’s vegetable garden. Though their message was simple at first, soon their requests became more difficult—and more insistent. They told Joan that Canada, under "Henry" was attempting to annex the United States and she was the only one who could prevent this from happening. She had to go to Washington D.C. and warn "Charles." Though she tried to ignore her voices, they grew more persistent.
She never told her family, or the priest, because he knew no one would believe her. Instead, she began to withdraw, spending more and more time by herself, although she believed she was with her Voices, as they spoke to her every day by this point. Her parents tried questioning her, but she refused to provide them with any information. She even avoided the church for a while, as the priest was becoming suspicious. He tried to encourage her to open up to him, as he was concerned that something wasn’t right at home. When Joan finally did return, she went to the church only at night, using the key the priest had given her. She remained this way for four years, a virtual recluse, almost mute.
When she was seventeen, she couldn’t ignore her Voices any longer. Finally, in the middle of the night, Joan stole away. She hitchhiked to Washington D.C. and attempted, several times, to get inside the White House. She tried to break a window to get in, which set off an alarm. As she was fleeing, Joan was arrested. After a lengthy interrogation, the authorities determined that she was insane, and not a terrorist.
She was committed to an institution and prescribed a series of medications—which she refused to take, as they kept her from hearing her beloved Voices. One night during a thunderstorm the building caught fire. Joan escaped during the chaos and made her way to New York City—all at the guidance of her Voices. Now she hides, scrounging a living from the streets, and waits. The Canadians are coming. She’s sure of it. Her Voices have told her and they never lie. Ever.
THE SAMPLE
In Character Sample:
Joan knelt on the frigid sidewalk, shivering. Her hands shook so badly she could scarcely cross herself. Where were they? She’d felt the light, heard the voices, crawled out of her box. Now, nothing. They had gone, leaving her alone. Again.
Joan clenched her teeth. They must be testing her resolve. Well, she was out here freezing. Were they happy now? She ducked her head, shame coloring her cheeks at the thought. Her Voices were ethereal after all and didn’t feel cold as she did.
All at once the light returned. Joan closed her eyes as it washed over her, basking in its warmth. All thoughts of cold vanished as the Voices began speaking, filling her ears with their beautiful words.
"Maiden." Saint Michel's voice called to me.
"Daughter of God." Saint Catherine's words floated out from the light.
"We have a mission for you," Saint Margaret said.
"Yes?" Joan replied. Her eyes lit up. "What is it?"
You must not despair, but persevere. Have faith. We will be with you." They spoke as one now.
"But no one will believe me," Joan protested. "They locked me up!" She didn't add that the institution had burned and most of the inmates had escaped. Surely they knew this.
"We will be with you," they assured her, fading with the light.
Joan sighed and crawled back into her box, pulling her blanket up around her shoulders. Her Voices were right. She couldn't give up now. She had to keep trying. There was no other choice.
, I'm a PhD student and I write insanely long paragraphs. Just ask my professors. 
Joan "Joan La Pucelle" Ark
Low Class
Low Class
Canon: Henry VI, Shakespeare
Custom Title: The Maid
PHYSICAL
Age: 19
Gender: female
Appearance: Joan is small and skinny, often mistaken for a young boy. She has short, close-cropped blonde hair and skin tanned from long exposure to the sun. She's very short, standing at about five feet. Her time on the streets has left her with a gaunt, emaciated look, exacerbated by her already tiny frame.
Height: 5'2
Body: Joan is short and skinny, with a small frame.
Other distinguishing features:
Wardrobe: Joan’s clothes are ragged and full of holes. She wears jeans and tee shirts, along with a threadbare hooded sweatshirt jacket to keep out the cold. She also wears a baseball cap with a fleur de lys and a cross pendent.[/ul]
Play By: Mia Farrow
PERSONALITY
General personality:
Joan is fierce and determined. When she sets her mind on something, she accomplishes it—or she’s willing to die trying. She also has a very strong sense of morality that can lead her to take some pretty extreme measures. She beat up a cheerleader once because the girl was flirting with one of Joan’s friends. She doesn’t swear, but she’s learned to tolerate the habit in others.
Joan is very loyal. If the person in question matches her high standards, she will be that person’s friend for life, and will go any lengths possible to protect that person from harm. She once nearly killed a drug dealer to save one of her fellow street urchins. She’s direct and lacks any sense of tact. If she thinks something, she says it.
Joan is also very religious. She prays a lot, especially to three saints: Saint Michael, Saint Margaret and Saint Catherine. She claims to hear these three voices offering her advice, commentary and occasionally commands. She believes these voices are real and will hotly dispute anyone who says otherwise.
Quotes, frequently used expressions: And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man. I am not afraid, I was born for this!
Likes: (please list at least three)
- Hearing her Saints
- Choral music
- Swords
Dislikes: (please list at least three)
- People thinking she is crazy
- Being homeless
- Cold.
Strengths: loyal, stubborn, compassionate
Weaknesses: judgmental, arrogant, suspicious
BACKGROUND
Family: Jacques D’Arc (Father) Isabelle Romee (Mother) Catherine (sister) Jaquiem (brother) Jehan (brother) Pierre (brother).
Education: She made C’s and dropped out of school when she was thirteen.
Occupation: She panhandles for money on the streets.
Worst past experience: Being arrested and locked up in the mental institution-from which she escaped.
Best past experience: Hearing her Voices for the first time.
Image: Most people would see Joan as just another crazy street person. However, the few who have actually taken the time to get to know her would find that she can be very sweet once her tough as nails exterior is breached.
History:
Joan was born to Jacques and Isabelle on January 6th. Her parents had a fairly nice farm in Iowa. They lived a few miles from a very small town that no one has ever heard of. They raised sheep and sold vegetables at the local farmers’ market. Joan’s mom was a volunteer at a battered women’s shelter and her dad was a member of the city council.
Up until she was thirteen, Joan’s life was fairly typical. She went to school, muddled through and helped out on the farm. She didn’t care much for school, as she had problems with reading and writing. By the age of thirteen, she could hardly read and her handwriting looked more like chicken scratches than actual handwriting. She also went to the small Catholic church in the town so often that the priest gave her a key so she could let herself in to pray when he was busy with the confessional.
At thirteen, her life changed dramatically. She began to hear voices, accompanied by an intensely bright light. These voices first came to her when she was weeding her dad’s vegetable garden. Though their message was simple at first, soon their requests became more difficult—and more insistent. They told Joan that Canada, under "Henry" was attempting to annex the United States and she was the only one who could prevent this from happening. She had to go to Washington D.C. and warn "Charles." Though she tried to ignore her voices, they grew more persistent.
She never told her family, or the priest, because he knew no one would believe her. Instead, she began to withdraw, spending more and more time by herself, although she believed she was with her Voices, as they spoke to her every day by this point. Her parents tried questioning her, but she refused to provide them with any information. She even avoided the church for a while, as the priest was becoming suspicious. He tried to encourage her to open up to him, as he was concerned that something wasn’t right at home. When Joan finally did return, she went to the church only at night, using the key the priest had given her. She remained this way for four years, a virtual recluse, almost mute.
When she was seventeen, she couldn’t ignore her Voices any longer. Finally, in the middle of the night, Joan stole away. She hitchhiked to Washington D.C. and attempted, several times, to get inside the White House. She tried to break a window to get in, which set off an alarm. As she was fleeing, Joan was arrested. After a lengthy interrogation, the authorities determined that she was insane, and not a terrorist.
She was committed to an institution and prescribed a series of medications—which she refused to take, as they kept her from hearing her beloved Voices. One night during a thunderstorm the building caught fire. Joan escaped during the chaos and made her way to New York City—all at the guidance of her Voices. Now she hides, scrounging a living from the streets, and waits. The Canadians are coming. She’s sure of it. Her Voices have told her and they never lie. Ever.
THE SAMPLE
In Character Sample:
Joan knelt on the frigid sidewalk, shivering. Her hands shook so badly she could scarcely cross herself. Where were they? She’d felt the light, heard the voices, crawled out of her box. Now, nothing. They had gone, leaving her alone. Again.
Joan clenched her teeth. They must be testing her resolve. Well, she was out here freezing. Were they happy now? She ducked her head, shame coloring her cheeks at the thought. Her Voices were ethereal after all and didn’t feel cold as she did.
All at once the light returned. Joan closed her eyes as it washed over her, basking in its warmth. All thoughts of cold vanished as the Voices began speaking, filling her ears with their beautiful words.
"Maiden." Saint Michel's voice called to me.
"Daughter of God." Saint Catherine's words floated out from the light.
"We have a mission for you," Saint Margaret said.
"Yes?" Joan replied. Her eyes lit up. "What is it?"
You must not despair, but persevere. Have faith. We will be with you." They spoke as one now.
"But no one will believe me," Joan protested. "They locked me up!" She didn't add that the institution had burned and most of the inmates had escaped. Surely they knew this.
"We will be with you," they assured her, fading with the light.
Joan sighed and crawled back into her box, pulling her blanket up around her shoulders. Her Voices were right. She couldn't give up now. She had to keep trying. There was no other choice.
