Post by Cherokee Evans on Sept 3, 2010 10:04:50 GMT -5
~-~ Let’s go back to BASICS: to nature and ourselves. ~-~
[/i][/b]Howdy y’all! I’m Cherokee Joyce Evans, but y’all can call me Cherokee, like my mama does, or CJ, like my daddy used to. Whatever y'all do, though, do NOT call me Cher. I may love music, but I ain't a singer and I'm DEFINITELY not that prissy pop star.
I’m 19 years old, born June 5, 1991 in the great state of Texas, and this good lil’ Christian cowgirl is achin’ for a perfect gentleman.
That’s right honeypies, I’m single and I’m straight.
Did I mention that I can turn into a Spanish Mustang? No? Well, I guess I let that pretty kitty out of the bag…
I’m 19 years old, born June 5, 1991 in the great state of Texas, and this good lil’ Christian cowgirl is achin’ for a perfect gentleman.
That’s right honeypies, I’m single and I’m straight.
Did I mention that I can turn into a Spanish Mustang? No? Well, I guess I let that pretty kitty out of the bag…
~-~ I guess APPEARANCES are deceptive ~-~
[/b]
If they made my life a movie I bet y’all they’d choose Sophia Bush to play my human self. I mean, she and I have the same hazel eyes and the same wavy brown hair
[/i]. Our hair color changes the same way too- both her and I have lighter shades of brown in the summer and darker shades of brown in the winter‘Course, there are a few differences between the two of us. I’m way more lanky than her. I’ve even been (ironically) told that I’m built like a colt. My huge hands and feet can make me real clumsy at times, unlike Sophia Bush. I’m also a bit shorter than her at only 5ft, 4in[/i], and I bet y’all I’m a bit heftier, too.
How much do I weigh? Don’t y’all know it’s not polite to ask a lady how much she weighs? (If you must know, it’s 120 lbs. So y’see, I am probably a tad heavier then her.)
And besides, just because a chicken has wings doesn't mean it can fly, and just because I look like I’m a regular girl doesn’t mean I can’t change into a Spanish Mustang.
[/left]
Whenever I “go horse” I turn into a Spanish Mustang like the beauties my daddy had on his ranch back home. I’m usually about 14 hands tall (56 inches)
[/i], with white and beige colorin’.[/i]I love it when I’m a mustang because I’m always so much more graceful than when I’m a human. I’m able to move myself around obstacles so much easier. Plus, I simply adore my mane- it gets so long and just flows over my back, and my tail is just the right length so I can flick away the flies and still not step on it.
But enough on how I look like. Beauty’s only skin deep, right?[/left]
~-~PERSONALITY is everythin’ in art and poetry ~-~
[/i][/b]My mama tried to raise me to be a regular Southern Belle
[/i], but I’ve got too much of my daddy in me. I love work on the ranch way more than I love dressing up and acting like a biddy, although I won’t deny that I picked up a few belle-like traits. I love to flirt. The acting coy, the airy giggles, the batting of the eyelashes- it’s all a game for me. Now, I know better than to act like I’m actually serious, but some of the boys back home didn’t really get that, and tried to stick on to me tighter’n a burr sticks to fur. Truth is, I don’t think I could ever let myself be tied down by a guy. I’m too much like a mustang in that sense, too. I love my freedom[/i]. I love the open air and fields[/i]. I love the wildflowers, love life on the ranch, love being a free-wheelin’ cowgirl more’n I love anything else in the world (except horses[/i].)
I don’t think I could ever stand bein’ some guy’s ‘lil lady,’ cooped up at home while he’s workin’ the fields of bringin’ home the bacon. I can’t stand bein’ told what to do, bein’ left in the dust. Bein’ caged in.All I wanna do is be out on the open plains, free to do as I please, with the wind in my hair (or mane) and nothing but open sky and greenery all around me.
That’s another thing I don’t know if I can stand too well for too long- no nature. I hate big cities[/i]: All that concrete and grey just ain’t good for a soul! There’s gotta be a lil green around you. That’s why I love gardenin’[/i] so much. You can really be one with nature.
Those people who go around wearin’ business suits and drivin’ them big SUVs, goin’ about and pollutin’ the environment?
They’re crazies to me. How can people do that kinda thing? Don’t they miss seein’ trees?
But I can’t get to thinkin’ about that now, or I’ll start getting’ riled up, and once I do, there’s no turnin’ back. My mama always said my deadly sin was my wrath, and I guess it’s true. I mean, I like people well enough, and I don’t ever like to see people feelin’ down, but once I’m mad at someone,
then I’m mad. It’ll fizzle down pretty quick, but I’ve
found that one can do a lot of damage in a little time if you’re angry enough. Luckily it doesn’t happen too often.
More often than not, I’m the one likely to make people angry. I daydream a lot, and I get real restless and real bored sometimes, and once I do that, I start chewin’ my hair.[/i]Mama hated that. Said it was one of the worst habits in the world. I still do it though. I can’t help it! After all, it is a habit.
Lucky for me, I didn’t have to get too bored down at the ranch. Usually if I got bored I’d go out and garden a bit, or maybe do some ridin’. Once I found out that I was a ‘shifter, I started goin’ out and runnin’ a bit when I was in a horse-y mood.
Now, there’s one funny thing about me. “When I’m in a horse-y mood.” I say that a lot describin’ myself to people who know I’m a ‘shifter. For example, I’m an omnivore, but when I’m feeling more like a human being, I’m a meat-eater all the way. I blame my Texan heritage. Barbeque and ribs- mmmhmmm. But then, when I’m in a horse-y mood, I eat a more vegetarian diet[/i]. It’s pretty whacky, bein’ able to turn into a Spanish Mustang at will. Sure screws up your sense of perspective sometimes. Y’start to wonder whether you’re more animal or human. I guess everyone’s kinda like that, ‘shifter or no. Makes me wonder whether or not we’d be more animal or human if we we’re put in a more animal-geared situation.
[/left]
~-~Without culture SOCIETY is but a jungle~-~
[/i][/b]Now, my life hasn’t been as pretty as some, but I like the way it’s goin’. My family and I’re lower middle class, so we didn’t have too much money, but I’d do some work around the ranch
[/i] so we didn’t have to get too much help, and sometimes I’d babysit for Mrs. McKully when she needed to go to the big city and she couldn’t bring her kids with her. We got by well enough for me and my brother to get through high school and the first bit of college. I would’ve been able to keep going with college like my brother is, but then somethin’ happened when I went home for break that made me pack up and leave for Verge Apartments right away. [/left]
~-~What is PAST is prologue~-~
[/i] [/b]I was born, pretty normal-lookin’, in a small-town in East Texas. I’m 2-and-a-half minutes older than my twin brother, Wyatt Cree Evans, and the only daughter of rancher Nathaniel Wyatt Evans and his pretty little lady, Joyce Adams Evans, an upstanding preacher’s daughter- my mama.
Mama loves the stories about the Indians, and so she named me and my brother, her first kids, after ‘em. I’m named for the Cherokee Indians, who used to live in Oklahoma, and Wyatt’s named for the Cree Indians, who’re from Montana. Daddy thought that mama was a lil silly for doing that, but he let her be.
Wyatt and I’re like most twins, I guess. We argue a lot and some days we can get so mad at each other we’d almost be spittin’ poison, but we were brother and sister and we had to take care of each other, so we always did. I miss him a lot. I don’t get to see him now too much since he’s gone off to college in California, and that makes me pretty blue. See, Wyatt reminds me a lot of Daddy, and I miss Daddy like a midsummer field misses rain.
Daddy died of a heart attack when me and Wyatt were about 12 years old. Mama said that he was workin’ the fields when he just all of a sudden dropped down. I just know he could’ve been okay if Mama or some of the helpers had found him fast enough- but they didn’t.
I first 'shifted not long after that. One day, when I was missin’ Daddy a lot, I went out to the stables. I’d always loved to ride and now that Daddy was gone, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to, since Mama wasn’t too good at it, and I think it made her miss Daddy too much.
All I can remember next is pain and confusion, and then becoming a horse.
Mama was the one who found me. She talked nice to me and managed to help me ‘shift back to normal. Once I was decent again, she gathered me and Wyatt together and explained to me about ‘shifters. She told me that Daddy used to be one, too- he used to shift into a horse, like I did. She said he told her before they got married that we, his kids, may have the same problem.
That’s exactly the way she said it. “The same problem.” As if ‘shifting wasn’t a blessin’, but a curse. She said that Daddy had never liked it, and neither did she, really. She said that she’d help me –and Wyatt, too, if he ended up having it- through the problem and find a way to make me better. When I told her I didn’t think it was really a problem, that I thought it was pretty cool, she looked at me real funny. I think that was the first time I realized just how different Mama and I were.
Things didn’t get much better between Mama and I as I got older. In fact, I couldn’t help but feel more and more different from everyone- even Wyatt. I really loved ‘shifting. I never felt more free than when I was a horse. Wyatt and Mama, both of whom couldn't ‘shift, didn’t understand that. It caused a lot of arguments back in the day.
One of the biggest issues between Mama and I nowadays is her new husband, Larry Murrel, this guy who just came back Stateside after staying in Australia for a while. From the moment I met him, Larry didn’t seem right to me. Wyatt didn’t like him much, either. But Mama was head-over-heels in love with him, and we hadn’t seen her that happy since Daddy died, so finally we just let it be, and she and Larry married in my junior year of high school.
Little Elizabeth Wichita joined the family soon afterwards. Once again Mama had named her after Indians, this time after the Wichita Indians, who were from Texas. That, at least, had never changed about her. Unfortunately, I constantly did. Change, that is.
The day Mama finally told Larry about my ‘shifting was definitely a bad one for me. The moment he found out I saw this gleam in his eyes that just made my guts twist into a knot. I tried to steer clear of him after that, and I managed it until after I graduated.
Wyatt, being the smarter twin, managed to get into some fancy college over in California. I didn’t really want to leave Texas too much and decided to go to one of the in-state schools. It wasn’t too impressive- a lot less green than I was used to. I mean, I made a few friends, even found a 'shifter or two. One of 'em told me about Verge Apartments, said I could go there if I ever needed a place to stay. 'Course, I wasn't too interested back then. I still had the ranch to go home to. I was pretty homesick early on and went back home as soon as I could for the break. Turned out that was just about the biggest mistake of my life.
I came back home expecting a small little reunion with plenty of time to play catch-up with Wyatt and see Little Lizzie (what I call Elizabeth) again. Instead, I found Mama on the verge of selling the ranch and a strange girl in one of the guest rooms. Wyatt had sent word that he wouldn’t be able to make it down, meaning that I was stuck with Mama (who seemed to gotten a few strands short of a haystack since I last saw her,) Lizzie (who didn’t do much,) Larry (who seemed to have gotten even odder,) and the strange girl (who I later found out was Kaiya, Larry’s illegitimate daughter from a fling while he was still in Australia.)
Needless to say, I was more than a little uncomfortable with the situation. Things got even worse when I found out that Larry was planning on drugging and trying to sell both me and Kaiya (who turned out to also be a 'shifter,) in order to get some easy money. I decided to get out of the ranch as soon as I could- clearly it was no longer home for me, and I was no longer happy there. Out of a sense of duty, (I couldn't just leave her now, could I?) I told Kaiya about Larry's plan, and out of necessity the two of us decided to travel together to Verge. We ran away not long after, taking bus after bus to get to Verge. Along the way, Kaiya met up with a friend of hers, some gal from Trinidad named Rubi. Another 'shifter. We traveled together the rest of the way until we arrived at Verge.
Now that I'm essentially without a house and without school (I don't want to return to my old school for fear of Larry finding me,) I need to completely rethink my life. I'm thinkin' about maybe tryin' out one of the schools here in the city, though Lord knows there's not enough greenery around here to keep a bug alive. Still, I'm hoping that being here with other 'shifters will help me figure out what to do, and that someday I'll be able to return home safely and reunite with Mama, Lizzie, and Wyatt.
OOC Note: Kaiya and Rubi are characters of friends of mine in RL who have joined up on Shapeless (as macadamianut and thecakespy, respectively.) We discussed having our characters meet to make things easier to RP.
Mama loves the stories about the Indians, and so she named me and my brother, her first kids, after ‘em. I’m named for the Cherokee Indians, who used to live in Oklahoma, and Wyatt’s named for the Cree Indians, who’re from Montana. Daddy thought that mama was a lil silly for doing that, but he let her be.
Wyatt and I’re like most twins, I guess. We argue a lot and some days we can get so mad at each other we’d almost be spittin’ poison, but we were brother and sister and we had to take care of each other, so we always did. I miss him a lot. I don’t get to see him now too much since he’s gone off to college in California, and that makes me pretty blue. See, Wyatt reminds me a lot of Daddy, and I miss Daddy like a midsummer field misses rain.
Daddy died of a heart attack when me and Wyatt were about 12 years old. Mama said that he was workin’ the fields when he just all of a sudden dropped down. I just know he could’ve been okay if Mama or some of the helpers had found him fast enough- but they didn’t.
I first 'shifted not long after that. One day, when I was missin’ Daddy a lot, I went out to the stables. I’d always loved to ride and now that Daddy was gone, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to, since Mama wasn’t too good at it, and I think it made her miss Daddy too much.
All I can remember next is pain and confusion, and then becoming a horse.
Mama was the one who found me. She talked nice to me and managed to help me ‘shift back to normal. Once I was decent again, she gathered me and Wyatt together and explained to me about ‘shifters. She told me that Daddy used to be one, too- he used to shift into a horse, like I did. She said he told her before they got married that we, his kids, may have the same problem.
That’s exactly the way she said it. “The same problem.” As if ‘shifting wasn’t a blessin’, but a curse. She said that Daddy had never liked it, and neither did she, really. She said that she’d help me –and Wyatt, too, if he ended up having it- through the problem and find a way to make me better. When I told her I didn’t think it was really a problem, that I thought it was pretty cool, she looked at me real funny. I think that was the first time I realized just how different Mama and I were.
Things didn’t get much better between Mama and I as I got older. In fact, I couldn’t help but feel more and more different from everyone- even Wyatt. I really loved ‘shifting. I never felt more free than when I was a horse. Wyatt and Mama, both of whom couldn't ‘shift, didn’t understand that. It caused a lot of arguments back in the day.
One of the biggest issues between Mama and I nowadays is her new husband, Larry Murrel, this guy who just came back Stateside after staying in Australia for a while. From the moment I met him, Larry didn’t seem right to me. Wyatt didn’t like him much, either. But Mama was head-over-heels in love with him, and we hadn’t seen her that happy since Daddy died, so finally we just let it be, and she and Larry married in my junior year of high school.
Little Elizabeth Wichita joined the family soon afterwards. Once again Mama had named her after Indians, this time after the Wichita Indians, who were from Texas. That, at least, had never changed about her. Unfortunately, I constantly did. Change, that is.
The day Mama finally told Larry about my ‘shifting was definitely a bad one for me. The moment he found out I saw this gleam in his eyes that just made my guts twist into a knot. I tried to steer clear of him after that, and I managed it until after I graduated.
Wyatt, being the smarter twin, managed to get into some fancy college over in California. I didn’t really want to leave Texas too much and decided to go to one of the in-state schools. It wasn’t too impressive- a lot less green than I was used to. I mean, I made a few friends, even found a 'shifter or two. One of 'em told me about Verge Apartments, said I could go there if I ever needed a place to stay. 'Course, I wasn't too interested back then. I still had the ranch to go home to. I was pretty homesick early on and went back home as soon as I could for the break. Turned out that was just about the biggest mistake of my life.
I came back home expecting a small little reunion with plenty of time to play catch-up with Wyatt and see Little Lizzie (what I call Elizabeth) again. Instead, I found Mama on the verge of selling the ranch and a strange girl in one of the guest rooms. Wyatt had sent word that he wouldn’t be able to make it down, meaning that I was stuck with Mama (who seemed to gotten a few strands short of a haystack since I last saw her,) Lizzie (who didn’t do much,) Larry (who seemed to have gotten even odder,) and the strange girl (who I later found out was Kaiya, Larry’s illegitimate daughter from a fling while he was still in Australia.)
Needless to say, I was more than a little uncomfortable with the situation. Things got even worse when I found out that Larry was planning on drugging and trying to sell both me and Kaiya (who turned out to also be a 'shifter,) in order to get some easy money. I decided to get out of the ranch as soon as I could- clearly it was no longer home for me, and I was no longer happy there. Out of a sense of duty, (I couldn't just leave her now, could I?) I told Kaiya about Larry's plan, and out of necessity the two of us decided to travel together to Verge. We ran away not long after, taking bus after bus to get to Verge. Along the way, Kaiya met up with a friend of hers, some gal from Trinidad named Rubi. Another 'shifter. We traveled together the rest of the way until we arrived at Verge.
Now that I'm essentially without a house and without school (I don't want to return to my old school for fear of Larry finding me,) I need to completely rethink my life. I'm thinkin' about maybe tryin' out one of the schools here in the city, though Lord knows there's not enough greenery around here to keep a bug alive. Still, I'm hoping that being here with other 'shifters will help me figure out what to do, and that someday I'll be able to return home safely and reunite with Mama, Lizzie, and Wyatt.
OOC Note: Kaiya and Rubi are characters of friends of mine in RL who have joined up on Shapeless (as macadamianut and thecakespy, respectively.) We discussed having our characters meet to make things easier to RP.
~-~Ignore the PLAYER behind the curtain~-~
[/i] [/b]Greetings!
I’m guardyanangel, but y’all can call me Drea (yes, I do actually use the word y’all in my day-to-day vocabulary- there’s a reason my character’s from the South.
) I live in the Philippines, an archipelago country in Southeast Asia, so any posts that I put may appear to be posted at ungodly hours, but are actually quite decent times for me. 
I’ve been an off-and-on RPer for about 3 years, but it’s only recently that I’ve really been starting to get into it. I was directed to this site from the Lost Fellowship forum, where my character, an elf named Nereth, just got accepted. I’m hoping that this new RP craze will help me with some of my original and fanfiction works, as I seem to have gotten a case of writer’s block with both of those, which is not fun for me or anyone who reads my writing on FF.net. That aside, I’m also looking forward to working with original characters, something I haven’t gotten a chance to do in some time since I began devoting myself to my fanfiction.
But enough of my endless ranting. You probably want to see examples of what I’ve done, don’t you? Well, I’ve linked to my FF.net account as my website, if you want to look at that, but here’s a little sample I wrote for Nereth:
I’m guardyanangel, but y’all can call me Drea (yes, I do actually use the word y’all in my day-to-day vocabulary- there’s a reason my character’s from the South.
) I live in the Philippines, an archipelago country in Southeast Asia, so any posts that I put may appear to be posted at ungodly hours, but are actually quite decent times for me. 
I’ve been an off-and-on RPer for about 3 years, but it’s only recently that I’ve really been starting to get into it. I was directed to this site from the Lost Fellowship forum, where my character, an elf named Nereth, just got accepted. I’m hoping that this new RP craze will help me with some of my original and fanfiction works, as I seem to have gotten a case of writer’s block with both of those, which is not fun for me or anyone who reads my writing on FF.net. That aside, I’m also looking forward to working with original characters, something I haven’t gotten a chance to do in some time since I began devoting myself to my fanfiction.
But enough of my endless ranting. You probably want to see examples of what I’ve done, don’t you? Well, I’ve linked to my FF.net account as my website, if you want to look at that, but here’s a little sample I wrote for Nereth:
~*~
Nereth inhaled the scent of Mirkwood’s palace garden deeply, taking in the lingering aroma of the herbs and flowers that grew there. She had many a happy memory birthed in these gardens- here was where she first began her work as a novice gardener, back when she was still Midhien; here was when she first met the elf who would be her husband; here, in this place where countless beautiful and handy plants had once flourished, a testament of the splendor that was once Greenwood the Great.
How suddenly the times had changed. Nereth was an experienced healer now, and her husband was dead and Greenwood was no longer a great land but instead the war-torn Mirkwood. Yes, the times had changed, and just as state of the forest had degenerated, so had the state of the gardens she had once loved so. That was why she stood in them now, a basket and shears in hand; to harvest what few plants were left that could be used in healing, in order to save them before they could wither and die like the rest of the forest was.
She never thought there would come a time when she would think that a day felt like an age. Before these trouble times, a hundred years of man felt like a blink of an eye to an elf. Now, with the once-great Mirkwood being unrelentlessly besieged by the forces of Sauron, the days that used to pass so fleetingly now dragged on without end, filled with pain and grief and strife. It was truly exhausting.
A sudden noise startled her, and she stood, every muscle in her body tensed. None were safe in these days, and every elf, elleth, and elfling of Mirkwood had quickly learned that one needed to know how to fight in order to survive. She studied her surroundings cautiously, not immediately seeing anything out of the ordinary, but knowing that she may not necessarily see the threat. Then, the noise came again, and she saw the cause- a nearby pine tree called out to her, its branches stirring with urgency.
Beware! it cried, Danger! Danger! Pain!
The news only made her senses roar into full awareness, and she turned slowly, trying to make out any menacing figures in the shadows of the trees. Then, she saw it.
Beyond her immediate sight, although nonetheless worryingly close, a column of smoke and ash rose above the treetops. Nereth felt a rush of panic shoot through her veins as she realized what that meant.
Abandoning her basket and shears, she whirled and ran back towards the palace.
“Fire!” she cried, “There is fire in the forest of Mirkwood!”
How suddenly the times had changed. Nereth was an experienced healer now, and her husband was dead and Greenwood was no longer a great land but instead the war-torn Mirkwood. Yes, the times had changed, and just as state of the forest had degenerated, so had the state of the gardens she had once loved so. That was why she stood in them now, a basket and shears in hand; to harvest what few plants were left that could be used in healing, in order to save them before they could wither and die like the rest of the forest was.
She never thought there would come a time when she would think that a day felt like an age. Before these trouble times, a hundred years of man felt like a blink of an eye to an elf. Now, with the once-great Mirkwood being unrelentlessly besieged by the forces of Sauron, the days that used to pass so fleetingly now dragged on without end, filled with pain and grief and strife. It was truly exhausting.
A sudden noise startled her, and she stood, every muscle in her body tensed. None were safe in these days, and every elf, elleth, and elfling of Mirkwood had quickly learned that one needed to know how to fight in order to survive. She studied her surroundings cautiously, not immediately seeing anything out of the ordinary, but knowing that she may not necessarily see the threat. Then, the noise came again, and she saw the cause- a nearby pine tree called out to her, its branches stirring with urgency.
Beware! it cried, Danger! Danger! Pain!
The news only made her senses roar into full awareness, and she turned slowly, trying to make out any menacing figures in the shadows of the trees. Then, she saw it.
Beyond her immediate sight, although nonetheless worryingly close, a column of smoke and ash rose above the treetops. Nereth felt a rush of panic shoot through her veins as she realized what that meant.
Abandoning her basket and shears, she whirled and ran back towards the palace.
“Fire!” she cried, “There is fire in the forest of Mirkwood!”
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