FAUVE, ECHO HEART. [DONE]

[echo]

ECHO HEART FAUVE

NAME: ECHO HEART FAUVE
AGE: EIGHTEEN
GENDER: FEMALE
MEMBER GROUP: SAY MY NAME.
FACE CLAIM: RACHEL DASHAE
LIKES: TWIZZLERS, STRAWBERRY FLAVORED ANYTHING, SUNNY DELIGHT, PIERCINGS, TATTOOS.
DISLIKES: ANIMAL CRUELTY, MEAT, TALKING, NONCONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, EXPECTATIONS.
FEARS: MAKEUP ARTISTS, RIDICULOUSLY TALL PEOPLE.
SECRETS: DOESN'T SPEAK OUT OF CHOICE, CAN'T REMEMBER ANYTHING BEFORE A SPECIFIC EVENT IN HER LIFE.
PERSONALITY: ECHO HAS A VERY STRANGE PERSONALITY TO SAY THE LEAST. THE GAL IS RIDICULOUSLY QUIET TO THE POINT WHERE MOST PEOPLE FORGET SHE'S THERE AND HER SHORT HEIGHT DOESN'T HELP IN THAT DEPARTMENT EITHER. HOWEVER, WHEN ON STAGE OR IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA, SHE TENDS TO SNAG ANYONE'S ATTENTION, NOT JUST BECAUSE OF HER STRONG FEATURES, BUT BECAUSE OF THE DEMANDING AURA SHE SEEMS TO POSSESS WHENEVER SET IN FRONT OF A LARGE CROWD. SHE IS NOWHERE NEAR A PEOPLE PLEASER NOR IS SHE A PUSH OVER. THOUGH SHE CHOOSES NOT TO SPEAK, SHE DOES SELDOM AND ONLY WHEN ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY-USUALLY JUST TO SAY HER NAME AND THAT'S ABOUT IT. SHE'S A BIT ON THE COLD SIDE, PREFERRING TO KEEP TO HERSELF THAN BE PLACED IN THE SPOTLIGHT. SHE'S RUDE BECAUSE SHE WILL IGNORE PEOPLE EVEN IF THEY ARE SPEAKING DIRECTLY TO HER. BASICALLY, IF SHE DOESN'T KNOW YOU, EXPECT THE FINGER TO BE FLIPPED IN YOUR DIRECTION IF YOU PISS HER OFF. SHE'S THE SILENT BUT DEADLY TYPES.

HOWEVER, WHEN SURROUNDED BY PEOPLE SHE KNOWS WELL ENOUGH, LIKE HER BAND MATES, SHE IS STILL CALM, COOL, AND COLLECTED BUT WITH A SLIGHTLY MORE RELAXED EDGE. SHE LOVES TAKING PICTURES WITH THEM, MAKING FUNNY FACES, AND YES...SHE EVEN SMILES. MOST PEOPLE THINK SHE'S JUST SOME EXTREME FORM OF SHYNESS BUT SHE REALLY DOESN'T CARE MUCH WHAT PEOPLE THINK OF HER. SHE JUST DOESN'T THINK SHE SHOULD BE WASTING HER LIFE ON OTHERS UNLESS THEY PROVE TO BE WORTH IT-LIKE HER BAND MATES. ONCE SHE MET THEM, IT WAS HISTORY. PLUS, A LOT OF HER PERSONALITY STEMS FROM THE FACT SHE IS ANGRY WITH HERSELF FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO REMEMBER THE MAJORITY OF HER OWN LIFE.
OTHER: IS FRENCH-NATIVE AMERICAN, WAS BORN IN ST. TROPEZ, FRANCE, AND IS THE DAUGHTER OF THE FAMOUS FRENCH ROCK STAR, TONY FAUVE, AND AMERICAN ACTRESS, OLIVIA HEART.
HISTORY: BORN IN ST. TROPEZ, FRANCE, THE TINY BABY GIRL WAS THE SECOND CHILD BORN TO THE FAMOUS (AT LEAST IN AMERICA) COUPLE, TONY FAUVE AND OLIVIA HEART. THE TWO HAD A SON THREE YEARS PRIOR BY THE NAME OF SOUL HEART FAUVE. THE FOUR WERE THE PERFECT "HOLLYWOOD" FAMILY, THEIR FACES SPLATTERED ACROSS EVERY AMERICAN GOSSIP MAGAZINE. THE CHILDREN GOT THEIR FATHER'S DARK HAIR AND BRONZED SKIN. THEY ALSO RECEIVED THEIR MOTHER'S LIGHT EYES AND FULL LIPS. THEY WERE ALL BEAUTIFUL. OF COURSE THEY WERE. ISN'T EVERYONE GLAMOROUS WHEN THEY ARE FAMOUS? HOWEVER, ECHO'S PARENTS EVENTUALLY SPLIT AFTER HER FATHER WAS CAUGHT SLEEPING WITH SOME GROUPIE OVER IN THE STATES. AFTER THAT, HER BROTHER WAS SENT TO LIVE WITH HER FATHER AND SHE WAS SENT TO LIVE WITH HER MOTHER, WHO MOVED FROM THEIR VACATION HOME IN ST. TROPEZ, FRANCE TO HER LAVISHING APARTMENT IN THE HEART OF LONDON WHEN ECHO WAS TEN YEARS OLD.

MOVING TO ANOTHER COUNTRY WHERE PEOPLE HAD WEIRD ACCENTS AND EVERYONE KNEW HER NAME WAS STRANGE ENOUGH FOR HER BUT SHE SEEMED TO DEAL WITH IT. SHE WAS LOUD, ENERGETIC, HECTIC, AND REBELLIOUS-ALWAYS WANTING TO PARTY ONCE SHE HIT JUNIOR HIGH AND SMOKING BY THE TIME SHE WAS THIRTEEN. SHE FELL IN LOVE WITH THE BASS AND HOW IT SEEMS TO HOLD EVERYTHING TOGETHER IN A BAND. WITH THAT BEING SAID, SHE HAD BEEN TAUGHT A LONG TIME AGO HOW TO PLAY BY HER FATHER BUT HER MOTHER HAD BECOME A DRUNK AND REFUSED TO LET HER PLAY...IN THE APARTMENT. SO SHE WOULD PLAY EVERYWHERE ELSE. BY THEN, MOST MAGAZINES LEFT HER AND HER MOTHER ALONE-FOCUSING MORE ON HER FATHER AND HIS "ROCK-LOVE" SHOWS ON HIM TRYING TO FIND WIFE NUMBER GOD-KNOWS-WHAT. SHE STOPPED TALKING TO HIM THE SECOND HE LEFT SINCE HE NEVER BOTHERED SAYING GOODBYE. IT WAS NORMALLY FOR HER TO PLAY ON STREET CORNERS OR IN PARKS-FOR FREE-AND BY THE TIME SHE WAS IN HIGH SCHOOL, A GROUP OF GUYS FOUND HER AND SHE AUTOMATICALLY LOVED THE IDEA OF BEING THEIR BASSIST. WHEN SHE TURNED FIFTEEN, HOWEVER, SHE WAS IN A DRUNK DRIVING ACCIDENT WITH HER MOTHER.

THE AMERICAN MAGAZINES ATE IT UP, CHEWED IT OVER, BEFORE SPITTING IT BACK OUT. ECHO'S MOTHER DIED ON IMPACT WITH THE SUV THAT THEY SMASHED INTO WITH THEIR TOWN CAR. ECHO LIVED BUT WAS IN A COMA FOR THREE MONTHS BEFORE SHE FINALLY PULLED OUT OF IT-WITH NO RECOLLECTION OF HER LIFE BEFORE THE ACCIDENT. ALL SHE REMEMBERED WAS BITS AND PIECES OF THE BASICS LIKE HER NAME, HER AGE, HER BAND, PLAYING BASS...SHE COULDN'T REMEMBER HER FAMILY, AS MUCH AS SHE WANTED TO, AND WITH HER INHERITANCE, SHE PUT IT ALL INTO THE BAND EQUIPMENT AND ANYTHING THEY COULD NEED AS WELL AS HER OWN PRIVATE TUTOR TO BE HOMESCHOOLED BECAUSE SHE SUDDENLY FELT LIKE AN ALIEN AT THE HIGHSCHOOL SHE ONCE USED TO PRACTICALLY OWN WITH A ROARING THUNDER. SHE WENT FROM BEING THE FUN SIZED PARTY ANIMAL TO THE MUTE CHICK WHO COULD KILL ANYONE WITH JUST A LOOK.

NOW SHE CALLS HER BAND HER FAMILY AND STICKS WITH THEM...BECAUSE EVERYONE ELSE ISN'T WORTH HER TIME.

RP SAMPLE:

Generally, this wasn't her thing. Killing a human was strictly forbidden where she came from unless it was through the traditional hunt in which the entire pack participated. If not, they ate mostly animals from rabbits to pigs to birds to livestock. According to their moon goddess, the human who lay dead before her shouldn't have been killed. His stomach shouldn't be torn open. He shouldn't have a vacant look in his eyes. She could almost hear the elders of her pack repeating the words they always chanted before every single hunt, "În ochii Selenei, am fost odată umane. Pentru a ucide un muritor este de a ucide propriul nostru." In the eyes of Selene, we were once human. To kill a mortal is to kill our own. So as she threw dirt onto the body with the shovel with ease, she frowned and her neat eyebrows came together. Even drenched in the light of the crescent moon he looked ghastly and all she wanted to do was finish this stupid thing. That was another part of their religious tradition: burying the body. It was considered unthinkable to simply leave a mortal body lying around after the hunt was finished and they had their fill. Mortals were delicacies and thus, they had to be treated as thus: fragile, beautiful, vulnerable...

But could she really follow such mundane traditions when she wasn't even one of her own kind anymore? She was an abomination. The elders always spoke of others who were not mortal or lycans and that they were creations of evil-Selene did not approve of them. She became one of them and in her eyes, in the eyes of Selene, she fell out of grace of the only god they ever knew. In this land, in America, everything was different than in Romania. Nothing, at all was the same. As the patted down the earth so it was tightly packed instead of soft, she put the tiny wooden cross at the head and closed her eyes gently, "Sub lumina călăuzitoare a Selenei, eu vă mulţumesc şi veţi reveni la pământ de la care ai venit." Under the guiding light of Selene, I thank you and return you to the earth from which you came.

She spoke the words in a low voice, her accent strong as the Romanian words rolled off her practiced tongue with ease. Running her fingers through her golden hair, she frowned once again at the realization that she had lost her gray hat while on her little hunt. She only went on the hunt once a month if she was going to destroy the person completely the way she did. She made sure not to leave any traces behind minus her old habit of burying the body and performing the usual ritual. With a grace unlike any other, she was soon on the paved road that wound through the cemetery, her heels clicking as she held the shovel on her thin shoulder. She was lean, her flat abdomen visible because of her small bralet and low rise leather pants. She abandoned her coat on top of the victim's body, mainly his face, because she couldn't bare looking at them. She always tried to make it quick and painless but death was never painless when one was getting killed in such a manner. Funny how she wore a cross around her neck so it laid right between her perky breasts which weren't too big or too small. At a height of five feet nine inches, she looked practically like an angel - her golden skin and bright sapphire eyes ready to make anyone freeze over or melt on the spot.

She let the sounds of the tranquil night filter into her ears, not pierced because piercings were against their pack tradition...as well as tattoos. The body they were given was to remain the way it was. That was all. They were to be grateful and not vain. As expected, her ears perked at the sound of a twig breaking, the soft thud of feet-with shoes-on the soft earth and then the pavement. She stood still and closed her eyes gently, sucking in the air through her nostrils to take the scent in. Her face remained cold, indifferent to the one that had been following her for a good week now. She already grew accustomed to the scent...though she didn't know who it was and never saw them for sure. She simply let them follow her. If they wanted her dead they would have tried by now.

HEY MY NAME IS ECHO. I’VE HEARD THAT THIS SITE IS AMAZING SO NATURALLY I HAVE ONE CHARACTER ON TOUR. I LIVE IN THE EASTERN-USA TIME ZONE BUT I’M NOT COMPLAINING. I’M PRETTY GOOD AT WHAT I DO SINCE I’VE BEEN RPING FOR TEN YEARS SO I CONSIDER MYSELF INTERMEDIATE-ADVANCED. THE BEST WAY TO REACH ME IS AIM, MSN, OR PM.


THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY LITHI. OF CALIFORNIA DOES IT BETTER. STEAL AND BE CRUSHED.

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[LITHI!]