Post by JOHANNA ELISABET SYMANSKI on Aug 30, 2010 21:20:56 GMT -5
JOHANNA ELISABET SYMANSKI
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Name: Johanna Elisabet Symanski
Nickname:Jojo.
Age: Eighty-seven.
Gender: Female
Orientation: Heterosexual
Occupation: Professor of European Studies
Species: Lycan
Play By: Susan Coffey
Ability and Talent: N/A
Unlike what many mundane humans believe about the preternatural, Johanna is not at all elegantly beautiful. Or even elegant. She can be described as 'cute', and she is definitely a baby compared to others of her race, only having reached adult-hood barely ten years prior.
Jojo just comes below five foot, at a whopping four foot eleven. Intimidating, no? She weighs at about one hundred and twenty-four pounds, tipping her onto a bit more of the chubby and curvy side, due to her love of all things carbohydrates. Her skin does not like to tan. In fact, it strikes against it, and she often has to slather on the SPF to make sure her skin doesn't turn her into a red lobster. Are you aware of how painful sunburn can be when you have hair sprouting out of you in places where hair doesn't usually sprout when you're bipedal? That's right. A tattoo of a daisy chain decorates her back, starting at her left shoulder blade and ending on her lower back, above her hips.
Her hair is more cranberry-colored than orange, and falls in usually tangled waves just below her shoulders. More often than not, there is a flower tucked somewhere in the mane. She owns gray-green eyes that are usually trained out a window if she is not outside already.
Her matter of dress includes mainly dresses and odd shoes. When she is in the classroom, however, her business attire makes a stand. Her business attitude, however, does not.
Johanna is a very agreeable lycan. There is very little she dislikes, though curdled milk, being sick, and strawberry ice cream are on top of that incredibly short list. She is a talkative and easily excited individual who prefers to live her long life outside in her garden, be it day or night.
She loves to see movies. Zombies? Awesome! She'll have nightmares. A romance? Sure, let's bring the tissues. That being said, Jojo wears her emotions openly, and if you certainly can't tell, for whatever reason, what she's feeling, she'll tell you herself. She sees no reason to be secretive with the way she is. That's all everything is these days, anyway.
She's an easy fainter, too. Isn't that fun?
Johanna has never been alone a day in her life. First, she obviously lived with her caregivers, and when she was in boarding school, the three other girls who shared a dorm with her. She is very used to dependent on people, especially men, be it from the fact that she is a young adult girl whose hormones have had seventy years to prepare going crazy or from the timer period she was raised in, where men brought home the bacon, pulled out chairs and opened doors.
She makes the conscious effort to attempt friendship with everyone she meets. While most of it is that innocent desire to fit it, the very small part of her that is not naive or oblivious knows the danger of enemies, especially powerful ones. Living in a supernatural community where a plethora of other lycans, elementals, and even vampires flock makes that tidbit ring all the more louder; she knows she can't hide away forever, as that would be dreadfully boring, and so she takes care not to step on any toes.
Johanna was born in the early roarin' twenties to a Wall Street banker and a relatively popular flapper girl. She had a relatively easy life as an adolescent, being the spoiled, only child of her lycan mother, unable to conceive anymore even in her long years of life. She was dressed in pretty dresses and was able to play with gorgeous dolls. When she was very young, however, the Great Depression hit. Her family lost everything, as so many did, and her father committed suicide.
She and her mother moved out of their extravagant house in the New York City area and instead moved into a Hooverville within the countryside. This was where she grew to love the outside-- their shanty house was so bare and patchy, they might as well have been living in the wilderness itself. During this time, she and her mother had no connections with any sort of pack, which took a troubling toll on her mother's sanity. A small child isn't the best conversationalist in the world.
They eventually moved in with her mother's estranged father, who was a cool, calculating man who had managed to keep money in his deep pockets. More was coming in; the war was starting, and he was making a fortune in arms. Around this time, Johanna was sent off to a private boarding school to be away from all talk of war. Not that she didn't hear about it there, too.
The next few decades of her life were filled with wars, coming in a nice succession. She and her family were put under watch when the Red Scare was occurring, due to her grandfather's wealth and obviously Slavic last name. The McCarthy Era was hard, and she and her family had to once more go into hiding. But that ended-- more wars came. Korea. Vietnam. The not-so-Cold-war. By that time the two-thousands came along, Johanna had seen all she could of wars, and had retreated to Notre Dame university in Indiana to study European Studies and other such things.
After earning her degree, she traveled around a bit, and eventually settled in Mercy, Colorado, where there was a teeming supernatural community, even a pack of lycans she integrated into. She's just secretly glad she's not the youngest there.
Your Name: Meg
Age: Seventeen
How Did you Find us: RPG-D
A little bit about you: I am awesome?The alarm clock beeped its annoying song at seven twenty-four in the morning. The tone managed to invade her dreams that were filled with some studly actor off the television giving her a foot massage, but it did not manage to rouse her. It was finally the violent shaking of an annoyed older brother that woke her up an hour later, and Milou threw her pillow at the retreating giant, “I’m up!” She insisted, feeling irate that her lovely dream had been ruined. Why did she have to get up anyway? Sleepy brown eyes moved over to the mirrored doors that covered her closet. She let out a surprised squeak when she saw the state of her hair, her small hands darting up to try and pat the lion’s mane down.
Out of bed she leaped, running down the hall towards the bathroom. Lucas, who had been walking, made a sharp turn into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. “No! Lucas! Get out of there, I have to get ready!” Milou pounded on the door a few times. She could hear the rustle of clothing, and she growled, pointing a scolding finger at the door as her fist hit the wood again, “Don’t you dare take a shower.” She heard the shower turn on. “Lucas, no! I hate you! I hate your eyes and your face and I even hate your hair! Don’t get in!” Pressing her ear to the door, she heard her brother chuckle, and then the shower curtains were drawn. Milou kicked the door “I hope you slip on the soap!”
Things were always messy when her older brother came to visit. Well, no... Lucas had OCD. Things were spotless. But they had fights. See who could make the other more miserable, you see. So eventually she did get into the shower... but it wasn't until Lucas had exhausted all of the hot water. As Milou studied herself in the mirror, she found out, to her horror, that her butt got bigger. She gaped, and gave it a poke. It jiggled. And was still jiggling. "How... is that even possible! How can you get bigger? How? Answer me!" Well, maybe she knew how it got bigger. A few days of munching on the delicious cookies could be the culprit, or maybe the fact that all she had been doing for the past two days had been watching television. She had the house to herself, with her parents at work and it being summer; meaning no college yet.. Was she not supposed to do that? Because if so, she totally did not get the memo. The house was clean, so she could do as she pleased. Giving it another angry smack, she walked away from the mirror, her face scrunched up unpleasantly. This meant only one thing. She had to get her ass to the gym.
Milou dug in her closet for something to work out in, finally finding a pair of black yoga pants and a tank top. Black was slimming, right? Isn't that what they taught her so many years ago? Well, it was all that she had. Her only other option was to go naked, and that was certainly not happening. Sliding into the pants, Milou peeked under the bed for some tennis shoes. Oh, how she loved her tennis shoes. Dragging one from its hiding spot under the bed, she searched the room for its twin. That was one found on a chair. Odd. It was probably the dog. She pulled them on as she walked into the master bathroom, bouncing on one foot as she tugged one shoe on her left foot. Digging through the drawer for a hair tie, she managed to put on the other one. "All right. All set to go." Downstairs she went, reaching for the keys. Milou paused, wondering if taking a car was besides the point of going to the gym. But she shook her head, snorting in disgust as she swiped up the keys, "I'm not walking back after a work out. Fuck. That."
The drive to the gym was enjoyable, the air conditioner blowing a cool breeze right in her face. Some girl she didn't know was crooning a shitty song on the radio about someone being the salt to her pepper. Or something like that. She hoped whoever ran the gym didn't have poor taste in music. Assuming there was even music. "Because that would suck if there wasn't." When she pulled up into the parking lot, Milou groaned. There were quite a few cars there. Did no one have anything better to do? She hopped out of the car, locking it behind her as she bounced up the steps. The inside of the gym was cold, but she could see sweaty people as far as the eye could see. And smell them.
Dropping her keys off at the front desk, she asked the man who stood there, "Soo... what do you suggest starting out with?" He pointed to the treadmills, and off she went. After studying it, and those around her, she hummed, "Walking? I can do that." She hopped on, quickly pulling back her auburn hair, and studied it. With a grin she pressed the 'start' button, labeled on a green circle with big, bold letters. She almost went flying back. -Milou let out a tiny shriek, running to keep herself on the device. "No, no, no, noooo!" She hit the red 'stop' button and it slid to a stop. She stood there, panting for a few seconds. "Shit." She commented breathlessly, stepping off to the side on a strip of stable plastic, "Let's try this again." said Milou, turning it on once more to see if she could some how change the settings. -
! Does she get easily frustrated because she's short? Or has her long life taught her patience? And if she is the patient type is she always that way or does she have a temper? What sets that temper off? Does she have a long or short fuse? Another thing you can talk about is her education a bit, like her intelligence, try not to make her an outright genius of course but certainly discuss her need for knowledge. Does she feel that knowledge is power or does she just like to learn, like a hobby? Does she use that knowledge to manipulate anything or anyone? How does she get along with others? Is she more interested in learning or in socializing? 
