Post by ISABELLE LIGHTWOOD on Mar 8, 2010 9:25:11 GMT -5
the one i wish i knew!
[/size][/center]your name; lyss
your age; fifteen
your activity levels; at least every other day
your rp level; intermediate
the one i know!
[/center]characters name; isabelle danika lightwood
nicknames; izzy
characters age; sixteen
grade; school?
species; nephilim
celeb/face claim; megan fox
picture;
appearance;
Love her or hate her-and most choose to do both-there is no avoiding the fact that Isabelle Lightwood was a looker. She has these impossible amazonian model looks; sharp, dramatic features, impossibly long limbs, and faultless tan skin. Isabelle's dark hair, the same black shade as her brothers, waves down her back, which is the way she usually wears it. Of course, there was 'usual', 'formal', and 'demon ass-kicking'. For the latter two occasions Isabelle is to change this look; for the first, just 'having it down' would not nearly do it enough justice-for the second, having it in your face is terribly impractical. She cares about impracticality only when it'd endanger her life.
For not quite so fatalistic frivolosity-induced problems, Isabelle is game. This includes anything from twisted ankles to being hit on by people she couldn't care less about; she willingly suffers, as she'd dramatically say, for fashion. Sky high heels and brazen outfits that barely leave for breathing are her staples. For everything else, she falls back on her Shadowhunter wear. To accessories that never leave her side, however, in Idris or New York are her golden whip and red pendant necklace. The first was her father's birthday present as she turned twelth, the latter her mother's on the very same day. Lucky for her both fit in everything she'd ever care to wear.
[ohmigod. I suck at appearances. meh bad]
personality;
determined. ▪ An astounding will power, this girl possesses. Once her eyes are on a certain goal, she'll do anything and everything to achieve it. Well, anything that's considered legal and moral, which equates to anything that won't have the Gods throw a chastity belt 'round her waist and shove a purity ring on her finger. The girl does have some morals which is why there are most definitely things she won't do. Regardless, she does try very hard at everything she does. Her will is admirable but what quickly turns her unwavering fortitude to a... frightening matter is that it hits her the hardest when she isn't able to do what she intended to do. She can't shrug things off easily when she knows full well that she was either very close or capable of it. Stupid, little mistakes bother her more than anything and those usually lead to an unsuccessful attempt at something or the other. Even so, her resolve has proved to be more of an asset than anything as she has realized that it'd be better for her to look back and see that she did, indeed, put infinitely more than one hundred percent in every aspect of school and family and work, and most importantly, the challenges that life presents her.
loyal. ▪ Fiercely loyal, once she's promised her allegiance to someone or something, there isn't a very big chance that she'll ever go against it. Trust worthy to the core, she greatly values loyalty from others and towards others. She holds it in high regard as she believes that it's a fundamental part of any relationship. She takes the matters of trust and loyalty very seriously for she has seen the wonders that they can do to people and the horrors that are created from the lack of one or the other. Because of this, she swears to remain loyal and is rather willing to sacrifice for the sake of keeping her loyalty in tact. In turn, she expects the very same from others. Isabelle knows that everyone else is able to stay as loyal as she's willing to be which is why she looks at others in as positive of a light as she possibly can. She doesn't really find the point of cynicism and wariness because the notion of ultimate doubt doesn't quite add up to her. If no one takes a chance, how is one to know? Well, for a girl such as Isabelle Lightwood, she's more than prepared to take a few chances in order to know as she'd greatly hate not to. Her fierce alligiance is to her family, then the Clave, which might be considered a crime by some.
brave. ▪ A true daughter of the Nephilim, Isabelle Lightwood faces whatever ghastly demon other dimensions throw her way without breaking into a scowl. She's as brave as they come with a courageous heart and a love of adventure. Her adventures do come in different ways as she doesn't think pranks as adventurous enough the appropriate way to experience one's bravery because she'd rather use her chivalry to have the bravery to do something worthwile. Being a Shadowhunter makes her appreciate every passing second of life, and she treasures it greatly, but is brave enough to allow herself to take time to care for others, act and go on about life as if there's no tomorrow, defend what she believes is right even if she winds up injured and more importantly, Isabelle's brave enough to admit that there will always be things she's not brave enough to do sometimes.
loving. ▪ She cares. Too much, perhaps. Alright, so maybe caring if you've got split ends or you're mourning the death of your fingertips is a bit overmuch, but Isabelle treasures the moments of frivolosity. She's surrounded with people she loves and who love her (hopefully, anyway). There isn't anything that makes her happier than being able to show people how much she cares for them because she knows that she doesn't have forever to do that. Sometimes, however, her way of caring such as rearranging their closet and advicing them on their lovelife go by unappriciated-she's never one to let such a thing push her down. Yes, she really needs to think about the things she does for the people she cares and, well, everything she does. Even so, she's very proud of her loving heart but doesn't doesn't care too much for her own as she's half-submerged in someone else's and half-afraid that she might find something that isn't worth loving or letting others love. Once again, her own family is first in mind when she thinks of those she cares about; probably because of her isolation from the rest of her kind in her childhood. But she's at the point where she'd hurt others to shelter her own kind and closest, which they might not always enjoy.
rash. ▪ Ah, the girl's quick. The speed of this one is sort of astounding. Instead of thinking through things in a logical manner, she opts to resort to the ways of a rapid-fire ginger. It really just constitutes of being fast at looking before leaping or perhaps not looking at all and merely... flailing. She's quick to reply, fast to answer questions, speedy with her actions and even swifter with her reactions. Her impulses are her first nature which is why she's hasty in pulling back from a hot pan, a prick on the arm and a situation where she thinks she may be hurt by someone. Spending time to reflect on the many possibilities on things doesn't sit well with her because there's always a nagging fear within her that the more time she lets things be, the more she might get hurt or the more others might. Of course, she knows that it could be better if she waits and actually thinks. It's merely very rare that someone's able to shake her down to allow herself to risk it.
fiery temper. ▪ Sharp as she is with just about every other aspect in life, her temper simply follows suit. Isabelle's quick to anger and is easily provoked. All she really needs is a small exhibition of injustice or the slightest tease and her immediate reaction is to fight back in the form of an insult of her own or a sarcastic comment. When she reaches such a level, she doesn't think twice in retaliating. Tit for tat. An eye for an eye, even. Karma, maybe? Sure. The way she reasons it is that what people give out into the world is what they should get in return. Isabelle just thinks that it's her job to hold up her end of that. On a good day, that's probably true. She's, really, just easily annoyed by stupid things... stupid things that people can't be stupid enough to do or think of, things that should be common sense and practically elementary, dear reader, or... she was just born impatient! The latter's most likely it. As often noted, if there's a boy around to put blame on, she'd put it on him. It's basic instinct to her, and she doesn't even want that to change.
history;} o r g y i n h o b o k e n {
Get this: after being bannished from Idris-save for the occasional business trip-with their newborn child, Maryse and Roberts didn't want to have another. The guilt of not allowing their child to have his homeland to enjoy in his youth was too much, and the Lightwoods had no intention of serving the same existence to another innocent child. Their home in New York, they knew, would not be much of one beyond the Institute. Alec was to have no friends, no life. Born and bred to be the perfect Shadowhunter, while others his age have no idea of what he goes through, and those who do would have nothing to do with him. One was perfectly enough, or so they reasoned. Alex was to suffer alone, would hopefully be grateful for it rather then share his fate with another.
But Fate itself had other plans. Maryse and Robert could take all the pills they wanted, use whatever devices they wish. Fate itself decreed for Maryse to be with another, though it took quite a number of things for that to happen. Robert had been out on an actual demon-slaying side-trip after an unusually intense argument with his wife, and took his time coming home. A day and a half, to be perfectly accurate-the exact number of hours his beloved spent getting increasingly drunk. After all, as Shadowhunters whenever one was to leave the house the rest would spend the time worried for his safety. And Robert never stayed out in such a way. Maryse feared the worst.
But come home did the father of one---a title that was to change in several short months. He appeared at the door of the Institute lift bloody and exhausted, but almost smirking in a way his soon-to-be-daughter would immediately recognise as her own style. The two fell upon one another, and clothes flew off. After such an experience-for Robert later admited to having a run in with a rogue pack of 'wolves-people wanted to ascertain that they were alive. The shortest road to such confidence just happened to be the one also leading to the bedroom. Precautions were forgotten, and Isabelle Danika Lightwood joined the family several months after. While the story of the actions leading up to her birth isn't as quite as embarrassing as, hey, an orgy in Hoboken would be, it is nontheless one the couple wouldn't be telling their children anytime soon.} i t s w h a t m a k e s h i m
s o d a m n s e x y {
Compared to her birth, Isabelle's upbringing was disappointingly mundane. But still, she could be compared to the light that brightened up the dreary institute, enlivened its unavoidable somberness. As a child she is constantly running around and getting into general mischief; hiding away all of the Seraph blades in the Weapons Room because Hodge wouldn't let her play, painting her brother's room pink, and shaving poor Church's fur to name a few of her exploits. Both her parents and Hodge had by the grand age of seven started teaching her about the business of the Nephilim, and Isabelle took to it as a duck to water. That was also the year that she got her second brother-little Max was born two months ahead of scedule, but the Silent Brorthers ensured that that was to be no major problem.
Year eight, however, was far more exciting, unexpected premature baby brother aside. Their parents told them of another boy coming to stay with them, an orphan whose father had been a friend of the Lightwoods. Entrez Jonathan Cristopher Wayland, a ten year old boy with angelic looks and a permanent detatched air. Isabelle disliked such passiveness, distrusted it with a fury, and took it upon herself to draw him out of his shell. Which, unfortunately, meant poking at him whenever she found nessessary. Alec had by then started his training, and acted too busy for anything else, while Max was far too young to be of any use. Made ecstatic beyond belief at the idea of another brother to be entertained by, Isabelle did not see her fun being curbed by anyone-not even said brother.
And so she struggled on, even making some headway after a couple of years. The rest was history; the four siblings grew up to be improbably close, despite the blond being an unsocial prat. Then the mundane found her way into the Institute, somehow bringing her even more mundane friend along. It was obvious from the very beginning that Clarissa Fray was not quite as mundane as she made herself up to be, especially not to Jace. It was, as Simon would have said, like something out of D&D. Found mystical object, lost mystical object, battle monsters...happily ever after. Except it didn't quite turn out that way-Max was dead, Simon was a vampire, and Jace changed his family name four times. It had to be recognised, however, that Jace Lightwood is by far the best option.
But, of course, the story was far from over...
sexual preferance; heterosexual
family;
robert lightwood}{father
maryse lightwood}{mother
alexander lightwood}{brother
jace lightood}{adopted brother
max lightwood}{deceased brother
pets; -
those random skills!
rp sample;It was a spectacular day for riding, though it was understood that the sky could have been hailing the size of fists and Alistair would still have been lusting after a jaunt with his steed. He was just the kind of person who enjoyed nothing more then the feel of the wind slamming against his skin, pulling at his hair. Making said abnormally wild hair all the more messier, though he insisted on it being called a roguishly handsome windswept look. It was of course not he who came up with the name, but Alistair was more then willing to accommadate the ladies in whatever they wished. And he knew a good compliment when he hears one, though he'd never have dared to admit how hard it was to run a brush through his locks after styling it so.[/size]
Alistair Lightwood, youngest male of the Lightwood clan, was to appear perfect in every way. Who was he to ruin young girls' daydreams? It was a brilliantly egoistic thought that his brothers would have clobbered him for, while the girls hooted. But what did siblings know-Alistair was counting on majority vote. And the people have so obviously said what they had on their minds, further bolstering his ego. At this rate, as his mother all too often laments, there'd never be grandchildren for her to mollycoddle-at least, not from his corner. God knew the others bred like hamsters-a gross overstatement that he wouldn't care to admit to, as his two brothers had but a child apiece-with even his much-too-young little sister being engaged. The very nerve of her! But with his debaucherous ways, it was a fitting punnishment for him to be swamped around by nieces and nephews who clung to his legs and called him Uncle Ally.
There was nothing Alistair feared more then messy little children, as the others knew fine and well. The made even greater messes and cried and ate and pooped-nothing for a man to busy himself with. No, he was doing what men were truly made to. Riding, almost racing through the woods, as many others of his kind were doing. Knights of the same circle, with their allegiance sworn to one another and to their king, their were treated to a special task by their lord. They had departed at dawn, shouting merry obsceneties at one another, before parting company at the neck of the woods. The order had been simple; to root out any potential problems hiding in the forest. Alistair would have scorned such grunt work had he not known the reason behind it.
The Kings and Queens of Olde had returned to them! He could hardly have believed it, and still would have been unable to had he not seen them with his own eyes and even converse with them with his own lips. The four have returned, a most surprising twist in the tale, and proved worthy of having a feast made in their name. He couldn't agree more, what with all the trouble Caspian had been having as of late. But the trouble might just prove worse as word spread out, should any ill will to the royal four remain. Alistair could not have been prouder then when he was finally allowed to dedicate himself to Caspian once more; knighthood was poor sport under the honorless Miraz, though it had proved enjoyable on occasion.
Actually, such occasions were always when he was nowhere near the ill-fated king. In his youth as he was only training for knighthood, Miraz had favored him to play messenger to Telmar's supposed allies. He had previously visited Archenland and Calormen, and even some of the islands, and thoroughly enjoyed every last second of them. Adventures each and every one, though it was the last that proved the greatest. Staying for a month in Calormen as a mere strapping lad of seventeen was when he finally met his match. He hardly dared to believe it himself, but she had proved most persistent. Only, upon placing a claim on his heart she disappeared quite suddenly, never to be seen by him again.
Embarrassing, that declarations of such feelings could drive a person to leave the very life she had. Of course, Alistair later learned that she was but a little slave-girl, though he healed little from the knowledge. Alistair gave a small, grim smile at that, wondering why he had chosen such a moment to retreat down memory lane. Constant vigilance was usually his motto, and it was not a time to let his guard down. It was just something about the view before him that had him pulling on his reigns to stop, aggravating his poor horse. Beaversdam, he believed it was called. A scenic place he knew she would have loved. No, he had not healed at all.
were you recruited by anyone? if so, who/how'd you find us?;;
APPLICATION TEMPLATE [ C ] holy fiddlesticks, BATMAN ?!
