Post by Amnesty Lazuli on Aug 29, 2006 19:47:13 GMT
Full Name: Amnesty "Ami" K. Lazuli
Age: 15
Species: She used to think she was human...
Hair Colour: Silver, but often covered by a mid-length brown wig
Eye Colour: Teal, though she often uses color-changing lenses
Height: About four foot ten.
Weight: Though it's not very polite to ask... somewhere around 125.
Appearance: Usually wears a lacy white shirt, long black bellbottom pants, sturdy black boots, and black leather gloves. She sometimes adds a black leather jacket and a motorcycle helmet to the ensemble if she's planning to go somewhere. Her wig is rather messy and left to hang loose, but her natural hair does not tangle so easily (probably because she keeps it pinned under the wig so much). She ties her real hair --which reaches all the way down her back-- with a white ribbon when preparing for action. Her pale, almost sallow skin is made to look a more healthy shade by layers of "natural shade" makeup. Her back bears a large scar, left from a Geostigma infection, but this is usually covered by her shirt and jacket.
Personality: On the surface, she appears to be sarcastic and witty, even cheerfully mad on her better days. Unfortunately, this is merely a charade-- her true emotion is kept under cover. Her comic facade sheilds a wounded spirit spoiled by the ravages of grief and unrelenting guilt. And of course, the mysterious voices that fill her mind do little to help her disposition...
Weapon: A pair of acid pistols called the Tears of Heaven, which fire a toxic solution encased in thin glass "needle bullets" when discharged. The weapons' shafts have a sharp silver blades welded on so they can also be used as melee weapons in a pinch.
Developed as experimental weaponry by ShinRa nearly a decade ago, technological advances quickly rendered the erratic acid gun obsolete.
Amnesty's guns were obtained at half price in a pawn shop and have clearly seen better days, but they are still relatively effective.
Materia: Amnesty has not yet mastered Materia, but may pick up the neccessary skills in times to come...
History:
WARNING- This section is obscenely long.
An orphan weeps tonight. She needs the strength of her family, but the only family she may have left has become a deadly enemy.
Many years ago, two scientists experimented on a batch of clone children. The scientists' names are lost, but one thing is clearly remembered-- the pair were as one. They worked and lived as though they could not exist without each other. Deep inside their united hearts, they knew what they did was wrong, but it mattered little, so long as they could be together.
Then, one day, they discovered an aberration in their new subject. When the pair saw what it was, their hearts broke, for they knew what happened to subjects bearing aberrations of even the smallest variety (and even more so an aberration of this magnitude).
The new clone was an infant girl. All the others were boys, as the experiment dictated.
Immediately the scientists came to a joint decision. They would no longer ignore the voices of conscience. It was time to spare this one, along with as many others as they could.
They managed to smuggle the baby out of the facility, as well as three of her older "brothers". The oldest was only nine, and each sibling (including the baby) was three years younger than the last.
For a year, they hid the children, the only year in which they knew anything resembling a real family. But in those days, nothing escaped ShinRa's notice. One dark night, the youngest boy woke the others and lifted the baby from her cradle as their home began to burn, drenched in a flammable acidic compound. They ran until the glow of the flames was hidden by the darkness of Midgar's slums. The children did not understand fully what had passed; so, when their adopted parents died, a horrible secret died with them.
Soon, the orphan brothers were known as a force to be reckoned with. They, like everyone else in that area, were poor and hopeless. But they had something the others didn't: power, and the intelligence needed to use it properly. In the meantime, the baby became a Kid in the midst of Midgar's squalor. She might have cried like the other children of the street, but she didn't know any better. She was sometimes cold, but never hungry, and always cared for. She loved all her brothers, but her bond with the youngest was most strong, and she refused to be out of his sight for more than a moment. If it is possible for a street child to be so, she was the sheltered one of the group.
Two years passed that way. Many more years might have followed a similar trend, had it not been for the upper-sector pizza parlor.
Her oldest brothers had been there earlier to celebrate a recent success, and they noticed a safe disguised as an oven. A plan was set to take the money from it and provide themselves security for the next few weeks. It should have been easy-- they even brought the Kid along to help. But something went wrong, and before they knew it, a magistrate had come. He brought them to a jail cell, and at first the Kid was afraid. What really happened in prisons? Why did people so rarely leave them?
When the magistrate returned, he had his wife and daughter with him. He brought the children out to his car and settled them in. Then they drove through the night for hours, across the wastelands and into the mountain country. During those hours, he told them what he was doing. He meant to adopt the children and make them a part of his family.
When he asked the children their names, only the Kid had no answer for him. She'd always just been "Kid". The magistrate's wife, though, wanted her to have a real name, and she'd already chosen a perfect one.
Amnesty.
The name meant refuge from the past, as did accepting this new name and home. The Kid took her name and was content.
If only the same could be said for her brothers. They had seen too much in their short lives to ever let them trust again. They stayed in the magistrate's house, obeyed his rules, and let him send them to school. But they refused to become a part of his family. It was as though two families lived under one roof, and Amnesty felt torn between them. Ultimately, her loyalties belonged first and foremost to her brothers, but she often wondered why they felt so compelled to ignore everyone outside their biological circle, the magistrate's family included.
She theorized it might have been due to the Voice, a disembodied Voice that hounded the children as they matured, more insistently as each year passed. At some times, it gave them useful information that spared them from hardship and injury. At others, it told them to harm others and cause destruction. Knowing the difference between these times was often tricky, and finally they tried to ignore the Voice altogether, hoping it would go away. It didn't.
The year Amnesty turned twelve, the dreaded sign came upon her.
She too bore the grimy stain of Geostigma. And with this revelation came a change in her closest kin. He was agitated more easily, more reckless and rebellious than he'd ever dared be, even in his street rat days. She supposed it was because he felt helpless to change what was happening to her. After nearly a month of watching the Geostigma progress, he confessed to Amnesty the real reason behind his change in demanor.
He had been hearing the Voice nag at him all his life, but since the Geostigma came, he'd begun to see visions and suffer nightmares. He'd told his brothers, both in college now, about the horrifying images, and they informed him of similar experiences. Each message carried a similar theme, the Voice's single order:
I am the cause and control of that horror called Geostigma. Come obey my will, and I will let your sister live. Refuse, and I will show no mercy-- the disease will spread until her system cannot bear the strain, and she will die, along with all the stigma's other victims.
Amnesty told him she believed the voice was lying and entreated him to not leave her. But he had made up his mind and would not be dissuaded. Besides, he was tired of being an orphan. He felt this strange Voice, whatever its source, might be able to give him the hidden answers of his heritage.
The following morning, the boys left the mountain country and headed across the desert as the Voice bade them. Amnesty heard not a word from them, and feared they were dead.
A year later, almost to the day, word of a cure for Geostigma pulsed through the world like a bright bolt of lightning. Amnesty was one of thousands who quickly recovered after using it, and her mountain village, otherwise untouched by the mysterious illness, turned her into something of a local celebrity. The downside of her short-lived fame was this: her adopted family was unable to shield her from the news of what had really happened to her brothers. The public exposure was too great, and the crisis became inevitable.
She mourned quietly for them in the midst of a world overjoyed at their passing. In time, she appeared to become closer to her adopted family and emerge from her shell of solitude. Her sense of humor returned, as did her enthusiasm for her favorite things: music, movies, good food. She started disguising her distinct appearance at school to pass as a "normal" girl.
But this is merely a bright facade. Amnesty has built it around herself so her adopted family's concerns will ease. After all, they love her, and deserve to believe they make her happy. Sadly, they will know fact from fiction soon enough. Dreams have now begun to haunt her, as they did her brothers not so long ago. The Voice is battling for sway over her, and she knows not where to turn. She fears that if, somehow, the Voice does manage to seize control, it will use her to harm those she cares for.
She now lives for one purpose only: to find the source of that torturous voice and silence it for all time. Home and rest she has left behind, driven to exchange peace for her torment.
And if, along the way, she happens to bump into anybody who ever wronged her or her brothers --ANYBODY at all-- she intends to see they get their due.
An orphan weeps tonight. But the time for crying is over. She will defeat the horrors of her mind, or die trying.
Extra/Other: The children in the experiment were injected with varying levels of Jenova cells. She received a rather small amount, which explains her susceptability to Geostigma (the boys were immunized by their higher levels). However, several physical traits which accompany her female characteristics even out the cell deficiency.
Posesses above-average strength and speed. Makes use of a vague intuitive/sympathetic sense which requires an exchange of energy between two forms of matter. This process is moderately tiring.
Though she knows the members of AVALANCHE are partially responsible for her loss, her overriding hostility towards ShinRa and any of its remnants allows her to work with AVALANCHE at times for common benefit. As such, she is a bit of a loose cannon, free of any solid alliance with anyone... for now.
Owns a "mostly Shi Tzu" puppy named Butterball, a former stray. She left him at her country home with her adopted sister.
OOC: Available for pairings, but not for cybering. Won't pair with anybody too old or young, and I should have it known that Ami is straight. Nothing personal, that's just the way she swings. "I don't believe in free love."
A bit about you: I discovered FF7: AC this summer, and though I'd never played the game, I was hooked instantly. I've lived my whole life on the West Coast, a world just as fantastic as any created for a game. I'll begin college in the beautiful San Fernando Valley this September.
Game On!
Age: 15
Species: She used to think she was human...
Hair Colour: Silver, but often covered by a mid-length brown wig
Eye Colour: Teal, though she often uses color-changing lenses
Height: About four foot ten.
Weight: Though it's not very polite to ask... somewhere around 125.
Appearance: Usually wears a lacy white shirt, long black bellbottom pants, sturdy black boots, and black leather gloves. She sometimes adds a black leather jacket and a motorcycle helmet to the ensemble if she's planning to go somewhere. Her wig is rather messy and left to hang loose, but her natural hair does not tangle so easily (probably because she keeps it pinned under the wig so much). She ties her real hair --which reaches all the way down her back-- with a white ribbon when preparing for action. Her pale, almost sallow skin is made to look a more healthy shade by layers of "natural shade" makeup. Her back bears a large scar, left from a Geostigma infection, but this is usually covered by her shirt and jacket.
Personality: On the surface, she appears to be sarcastic and witty, even cheerfully mad on her better days. Unfortunately, this is merely a charade-- her true emotion is kept under cover. Her comic facade sheilds a wounded spirit spoiled by the ravages of grief and unrelenting guilt. And of course, the mysterious voices that fill her mind do little to help her disposition...
Weapon: A pair of acid pistols called the Tears of Heaven, which fire a toxic solution encased in thin glass "needle bullets" when discharged. The weapons' shafts have a sharp silver blades welded on so they can also be used as melee weapons in a pinch.
Developed as experimental weaponry by ShinRa nearly a decade ago, technological advances quickly rendered the erratic acid gun obsolete.
Amnesty's guns were obtained at half price in a pawn shop and have clearly seen better days, but they are still relatively effective.
Materia: Amnesty has not yet mastered Materia, but may pick up the neccessary skills in times to come...
History:
WARNING- This section is obscenely long.
An orphan weeps tonight. She needs the strength of her family, but the only family she may have left has become a deadly enemy.
Many years ago, two scientists experimented on a batch of clone children. The scientists' names are lost, but one thing is clearly remembered-- the pair were as one. They worked and lived as though they could not exist without each other. Deep inside their united hearts, they knew what they did was wrong, but it mattered little, so long as they could be together.
Then, one day, they discovered an aberration in their new subject. When the pair saw what it was, their hearts broke, for they knew what happened to subjects bearing aberrations of even the smallest variety (and even more so an aberration of this magnitude).
The new clone was an infant girl. All the others were boys, as the experiment dictated.
Immediately the scientists came to a joint decision. They would no longer ignore the voices of conscience. It was time to spare this one, along with as many others as they could.
They managed to smuggle the baby out of the facility, as well as three of her older "brothers". The oldest was only nine, and each sibling (including the baby) was three years younger than the last.
For a year, they hid the children, the only year in which they knew anything resembling a real family. But in those days, nothing escaped ShinRa's notice. One dark night, the youngest boy woke the others and lifted the baby from her cradle as their home began to burn, drenched in a flammable acidic compound. They ran until the glow of the flames was hidden by the darkness of Midgar's slums. The children did not understand fully what had passed; so, when their adopted parents died, a horrible secret died with them.
Soon, the orphan brothers were known as a force to be reckoned with. They, like everyone else in that area, were poor and hopeless. But they had something the others didn't: power, and the intelligence needed to use it properly. In the meantime, the baby became a Kid in the midst of Midgar's squalor. She might have cried like the other children of the street, but she didn't know any better. She was sometimes cold, but never hungry, and always cared for. She loved all her brothers, but her bond with the youngest was most strong, and she refused to be out of his sight for more than a moment. If it is possible for a street child to be so, she was the sheltered one of the group.
Two years passed that way. Many more years might have followed a similar trend, had it not been for the upper-sector pizza parlor.
Her oldest brothers had been there earlier to celebrate a recent success, and they noticed a safe disguised as an oven. A plan was set to take the money from it and provide themselves security for the next few weeks. It should have been easy-- they even brought the Kid along to help. But something went wrong, and before they knew it, a magistrate had come. He brought them to a jail cell, and at first the Kid was afraid. What really happened in prisons? Why did people so rarely leave them?
When the magistrate returned, he had his wife and daughter with him. He brought the children out to his car and settled them in. Then they drove through the night for hours, across the wastelands and into the mountain country. During those hours, he told them what he was doing. He meant to adopt the children and make them a part of his family.
When he asked the children their names, only the Kid had no answer for him. She'd always just been "Kid". The magistrate's wife, though, wanted her to have a real name, and she'd already chosen a perfect one.
Amnesty.
The name meant refuge from the past, as did accepting this new name and home. The Kid took her name and was content.
If only the same could be said for her brothers. They had seen too much in their short lives to ever let them trust again. They stayed in the magistrate's house, obeyed his rules, and let him send them to school. But they refused to become a part of his family. It was as though two families lived under one roof, and Amnesty felt torn between them. Ultimately, her loyalties belonged first and foremost to her brothers, but she often wondered why they felt so compelled to ignore everyone outside their biological circle, the magistrate's family included.
She theorized it might have been due to the Voice, a disembodied Voice that hounded the children as they matured, more insistently as each year passed. At some times, it gave them useful information that spared them from hardship and injury. At others, it told them to harm others and cause destruction. Knowing the difference between these times was often tricky, and finally they tried to ignore the Voice altogether, hoping it would go away. It didn't.
The year Amnesty turned twelve, the dreaded sign came upon her.
She too bore the grimy stain of Geostigma. And with this revelation came a change in her closest kin. He was agitated more easily, more reckless and rebellious than he'd ever dared be, even in his street rat days. She supposed it was because he felt helpless to change what was happening to her. After nearly a month of watching the Geostigma progress, he confessed to Amnesty the real reason behind his change in demanor.
He had been hearing the Voice nag at him all his life, but since the Geostigma came, he'd begun to see visions and suffer nightmares. He'd told his brothers, both in college now, about the horrifying images, and they informed him of similar experiences. Each message carried a similar theme, the Voice's single order:
I am the cause and control of that horror called Geostigma. Come obey my will, and I will let your sister live. Refuse, and I will show no mercy-- the disease will spread until her system cannot bear the strain, and she will die, along with all the stigma's other victims.
Amnesty told him she believed the voice was lying and entreated him to not leave her. But he had made up his mind and would not be dissuaded. Besides, he was tired of being an orphan. He felt this strange Voice, whatever its source, might be able to give him the hidden answers of his heritage.
The following morning, the boys left the mountain country and headed across the desert as the Voice bade them. Amnesty heard not a word from them, and feared they were dead.
A year later, almost to the day, word of a cure for Geostigma pulsed through the world like a bright bolt of lightning. Amnesty was one of thousands who quickly recovered after using it, and her mountain village, otherwise untouched by the mysterious illness, turned her into something of a local celebrity. The downside of her short-lived fame was this: her adopted family was unable to shield her from the news of what had really happened to her brothers. The public exposure was too great, and the crisis became inevitable.
She mourned quietly for them in the midst of a world overjoyed at their passing. In time, she appeared to become closer to her adopted family and emerge from her shell of solitude. Her sense of humor returned, as did her enthusiasm for her favorite things: music, movies, good food. She started disguising her distinct appearance at school to pass as a "normal" girl.
But this is merely a bright facade. Amnesty has built it around herself so her adopted family's concerns will ease. After all, they love her, and deserve to believe they make her happy. Sadly, they will know fact from fiction soon enough. Dreams have now begun to haunt her, as they did her brothers not so long ago. The Voice is battling for sway over her, and she knows not where to turn. She fears that if, somehow, the Voice does manage to seize control, it will use her to harm those she cares for.
She now lives for one purpose only: to find the source of that torturous voice and silence it for all time. Home and rest she has left behind, driven to exchange peace for her torment.
And if, along the way, she happens to bump into anybody who ever wronged her or her brothers --ANYBODY at all-- she intends to see they get their due.
An orphan weeps tonight. But the time for crying is over. She will defeat the horrors of her mind, or die trying.
Extra/Other: The children in the experiment were injected with varying levels of Jenova cells. She received a rather small amount, which explains her susceptability to Geostigma (the boys were immunized by their higher levels). However, several physical traits which accompany her female characteristics even out the cell deficiency.
Posesses above-average strength and speed. Makes use of a vague intuitive/sympathetic sense which requires an exchange of energy between two forms of matter. This process is moderately tiring.
Though she knows the members of AVALANCHE are partially responsible for her loss, her overriding hostility towards ShinRa and any of its remnants allows her to work with AVALANCHE at times for common benefit. As such, she is a bit of a loose cannon, free of any solid alliance with anyone... for now.
Owns a "mostly Shi Tzu" puppy named Butterball, a former stray. She left him at her country home with her adopted sister.
OOC: Available for pairings, but not for cybering. Won't pair with anybody too old or young, and I should have it known that Ami is straight. Nothing personal, that's just the way she swings. "I don't believe in free love."
A bit about you: I discovered FF7: AC this summer, and though I'd never played the game, I was hooked instantly. I've lived my whole life on the West Coast, a world just as fantastic as any created for a game. I'll begin college in the beautiful San Fernando Valley this September.
Game On!
