Name: Cara Camilla Mancini
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Because of her father's high position in whatever company he worked for, Cara never NOT had new clothes. She's a pretty snappy dresser, always in something very sleek and stylish. Cara prefers to wear low cut shirts and shorts... mainly because of the breeze. Even though Cara could be considered as fashionable, she despises any sort of feminine footwear (AKA heels). She doesn't understand how someone could walk in those god forsaken things. Cara prefers her Converse hi-tops of various colors... even when she's wearing a dress or a skirt. Despite her distaste for feminine footwear, Cara doesn't leave her brother's condo without some sort of jewelry around her neck or on her wrist. She usually has multiple bracelets and one necklace with something in her ears. Yes, fashion-wise, Cara contradicts herself.
Underneath those clothes, Cara is a still-developing teenage girl. Her curves and other womanly attributes are just coming in, making her look a bit awkward. Though, with Cara's clothing choice, passer-bys would think the exact opposite. Cara also has an oddly long neck, something she never really liked about herself. Her eyes are darker than milk chocolate but lighter than dark coffee brown. Cara's hair is black and grows down past her shoulders. Usually, Cara keeps her hair down to disguise her neck but ties it up on occasion when the weather calls for it. She has brown eyes and a complexion that it edging on tan.
Personality:
From her New York school days, Cara is sort of quiet. Back then, Cara didn't have any friends due to her reputation as a fighter with serious anger issues. But now, being the new girl in town, Cara hopes to turn this around. After getting away from New York and her parents, Cara has started to become more mellow and is trying to be more sociable. Her new start has really changed for the better, no one who knew her in those old days would recognize this young woman. The young woman who smiled and even laughed sometimes! But not all is perfect with Cara's new life... problems you have in the past never truly go away.
If the conditions are right and the insult severe, Cara will revert back to her old self. Even though she knows that the odds of her being compared to her brother in this new town were astronomical, Cara still has that fear. Sometimes walking down the streets of downtown, when someone casts a lingering glance at her, Cara stiffens, believing she's being scrutinized. If the stare is held long enough, Cara would snap at the offender, a venomous look in her eyes. If someone says something that even hints at a comparison, Cara goes from calm to cutting. She spews insult after insult with her fists clenched by her side to keep from lashing out. Some people would say that Cara's anger issues needed to be alleviated with medication of some sort, but her brother never beleived in that sort of thing. So, instead, he and Cara get drunk together if an episode ever happens.
History:
Before being shipped off by her parents to live with her brother in Chicago, Cara used to live with her parents in New York. There, her father was a big player in some gigantic energy company that Cara never knew a lot about. He earned enough money to keep Cara's mother from working and to give them a pretty awesome life. In New York, Cara had maids and people to wait on her day in and day out. Her mother took her shopping every week, and she never repeated outfits in months. You'd think that Cara would be content with a life like this. But she wasn't. Cara was the second child born in the Mancini family and always lived in the shadow of her brother, Emilio. Emilio was the golden child with perfect grades, perfect musical and sports talent, perfect everything. Cara was pretty average. Cara lived her life being compared to Emilio, and it made her sick. She loved Emilio with all her heart but wanted to be her own person, not 'Emilio's kid sister'. Emilio also didn't like all of the attention focused on him and his little sister being ignored. He did his best to point Cara out whenever their parents made a praising comment, something Cara really appreciated but never worked.
In her quest to get people to acknowledge her and her alone, Cara began to rebel. When she turned fourteen and started to attend the same secondary school that Emilio did, the amount of comparisons that Cara endured during the day grew to an amazingly annoying rate. She didn't go one day without at least three mentions of her genius brother, who, at this point, was close to finishing up law school. One day, when Cara was the blackboard in her Algebra class and was struggling to figure an equation, her teacher made a comment on how "Emilio never had a problem with quadratics", and Cara snapped. She flung herself at the teacher and got in a few good punches before the school cop came in and pulled her off. Her parents were called in, Cara got a lecture and three days suspension. But that didn't do anything to simmer her sudden feelings of anger and humiliation of what happened that day. Her algebra teacher never said anything after that, but others still taunted her, to see if they could bring out that side of her.They weren't even about her brother anymore! The taunts ranged from her 'psychological problems' to her hairstyle for the day. And each and every time, Cara fought. And each and every time, Cara won. By the time she was fifteen, Cara was one fight away from getting expelled.
That fight, as far as Cara was concerned, went down in school history. A normal day during Cara's second year of that school, she had her backpack slung over one shoulder and was walking, head down, to her next class. A football jock jostled her shoulder then, purely accidental. At this point, Cara assumed that every breath someone took was against her. So before the football jock got far, Cara had his arm behind his back and her foot up his crotch. Simple as that. The jock crumpled and became known as 'the pussy that got his ass-kicked by that scrawny bitch'. And Cara got kicked out of school. Her parents had no idea what to do with her then. At night, she heard them yelling about it, so loud that her iPod clad ears couldn't block them out. They decided on therapy. Cara decided not to go. They decided on pills. Cara decided to take more than her reccomended dose. And then, Emilio called. He offered to take Cara to Chicago (where he worked now) for a weekend, just for old-times sake. Cara decided to stay.
Sample RP:
-cough- It's from HBH.
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Because of her father's high position in whatever company he worked for, Cara never NOT had new clothes. She's a pretty snappy dresser, always in something very sleek and stylish. Cara prefers to wear low cut shirts and shorts... mainly because of the breeze. Even though Cara could be considered as fashionable, she despises any sort of feminine footwear (AKA heels). She doesn't understand how someone could walk in those god forsaken things. Cara prefers her Converse hi-tops of various colors... even when she's wearing a dress or a skirt. Despite her distaste for feminine footwear, Cara doesn't leave her brother's condo without some sort of jewelry around her neck or on her wrist. She usually has multiple bracelets and one necklace with something in her ears. Yes, fashion-wise, Cara contradicts herself.
Underneath those clothes, Cara is a still-developing teenage girl. Her curves and other womanly attributes are just coming in, making her look a bit awkward. Though, with Cara's clothing choice, passer-bys would think the exact opposite. Cara also has an oddly long neck, something she never really liked about herself. Her eyes are darker than milk chocolate but lighter than dark coffee brown. Cara's hair is black and grows down past her shoulders. Usually, Cara keeps her hair down to disguise her neck but ties it up on occasion when the weather calls for it. She has brown eyes and a complexion that it edging on tan.
Personality:
From her New York school days, Cara is sort of quiet. Back then, Cara didn't have any friends due to her reputation as a fighter with serious anger issues. But now, being the new girl in town, Cara hopes to turn this around. After getting away from New York and her parents, Cara has started to become more mellow and is trying to be more sociable. Her new start has really changed for the better, no one who knew her in those old days would recognize this young woman. The young woman who smiled and even laughed sometimes! But not all is perfect with Cara's new life... problems you have in the past never truly go away.
If the conditions are right and the insult severe, Cara will revert back to her old self. Even though she knows that the odds of her being compared to her brother in this new town were astronomical, Cara still has that fear. Sometimes walking down the streets of downtown, when someone casts a lingering glance at her, Cara stiffens, believing she's being scrutinized. If the stare is held long enough, Cara would snap at the offender, a venomous look in her eyes. If someone says something that even hints at a comparison, Cara goes from calm to cutting. She spews insult after insult with her fists clenched by her side to keep from lashing out. Some people would say that Cara's anger issues needed to be alleviated with medication of some sort, but her brother never beleived in that sort of thing. So, instead, he and Cara get drunk together if an episode ever happens.
History:
Before being shipped off by her parents to live with her brother in Chicago, Cara used to live with her parents in New York. There, her father was a big player in some gigantic energy company that Cara never knew a lot about. He earned enough money to keep Cara's mother from working and to give them a pretty awesome life. In New York, Cara had maids and people to wait on her day in and day out. Her mother took her shopping every week, and she never repeated outfits in months. You'd think that Cara would be content with a life like this. But she wasn't. Cara was the second child born in the Mancini family and always lived in the shadow of her brother, Emilio. Emilio was the golden child with perfect grades, perfect musical and sports talent, perfect everything. Cara was pretty average. Cara lived her life being compared to Emilio, and it made her sick. She loved Emilio with all her heart but wanted to be her own person, not 'Emilio's kid sister'. Emilio also didn't like all of the attention focused on him and his little sister being ignored. He did his best to point Cara out whenever their parents made a praising comment, something Cara really appreciated but never worked.
In her quest to get people to acknowledge her and her alone, Cara began to rebel. When she turned fourteen and started to attend the same secondary school that Emilio did, the amount of comparisons that Cara endured during the day grew to an amazingly annoying rate. She didn't go one day without at least three mentions of her genius brother, who, at this point, was close to finishing up law school. One day, when Cara was the blackboard in her Algebra class and was struggling to figure an equation, her teacher made a comment on how "Emilio never had a problem with quadratics", and Cara snapped. She flung herself at the teacher and got in a few good punches before the school cop came in and pulled her off. Her parents were called in, Cara got a lecture and three days suspension. But that didn't do anything to simmer her sudden feelings of anger and humiliation of what happened that day. Her algebra teacher never said anything after that, but others still taunted her, to see if they could bring out that side of her.They weren't even about her brother anymore! The taunts ranged from her 'psychological problems' to her hairstyle for the day. And each and every time, Cara fought. And each and every time, Cara won. By the time she was fifteen, Cara was one fight away from getting expelled.
That fight, as far as Cara was concerned, went down in school history. A normal day during Cara's second year of that school, she had her backpack slung over one shoulder and was walking, head down, to her next class. A football jock jostled her shoulder then, purely accidental. At this point, Cara assumed that every breath someone took was against her. So before the football jock got far, Cara had his arm behind his back and her foot up his crotch. Simple as that. The jock crumpled and became known as 'the pussy that got his ass-kicked by that scrawny bitch'. And Cara got kicked out of school. Her parents had no idea what to do with her then. At night, she heard them yelling about it, so loud that her iPod clad ears couldn't block them out. They decided on therapy. Cara decided not to go. They decided on pills. Cara decided to take more than her reccomended dose. And then, Emilio called. He offered to take Cara to Chicago (where he worked now) for a weekend, just for old-times sake. Cara decided to stay.
Sample RP:
-cough- It's from HBH.
- Spoiler:
- Cara returned to the Treehouse just as the sun began to set. The orangey-red light spilled over the top of the canopy, making the grass below the daughter of Ares' feet look vaguely like fire. But the breeze that blew through the leaves and swirled around Cara, enveloping her in cold for a moment completely contradicted the fact. She crossed her arms, feeling the goosebumps rise on her arms. Geez. Didn't Boreas know about SPRING? Aeolus needed to get his act together and restrain the North Wind. As quickly as it came, the wind disappeared, leaving Cara in the old comfortable warmth of the setting sun. She continued on her way, the random change in weather not really taking precedence in her mind. Like always, the day had been long and tiring, filled with Sword classes, Cabin Leader work and independent training. Cara didn't exactly WALK to the Treehouse. In fact she trudged, her feet dragging across the grass, making tracks like a gigantic snail without the slime. Her arms drooped at her sides and her back was slumped. She just needed sleep.
The Treehouse finally came into view. Cara looked up at her sanctuary then lower, distastefully glaring at the ladder. More work? But before long, Cara dragged herself through the front door, unclipping her dagger belt and throwing it over the single chair situated in front of the fireplace. Further on, walking past the fireplace to her left, she came to a window, where, to the left yet again was a crude door. Cara entered her room, empty until she pulled down the Murphy bed from the right wall. Immediately, Cara crashed on the mattress, kicking off her shoes with a flourish as she did so. The sun sank lower and lower and the Treehouse grew darker and darker. Usually, Cara would reach into the crate under the window outside and grab a candlestick, but this time she found the effort to be too much. So in her jeans and cloak over a regular camp shirt, Cara fell asleep.
The nightmare woke her around midnight. It sneaked cruelly on her, slithered up and into her consciouness like a snake. The last time Cara had experienced nightmares were the hellish months that came after her encounter with Hades... the encounter when he cemented a ring onto her finger. After Luke sawed the ring off (and Hades made an appearance again, this time cursing Luke along with her), the effects of the nightmares started to go away... and... soon enough they disappeared. For a while now... maybe a month, Cara's sleeps had been blissfully blank. A pit of darkness that transformed into much-needed energy in the morning. But, like the breeze in the woods, the sudden images that bombarded her mind took Cara completely by surprise...
It started like it always did. With rain. Cara looked at the scene through an unknown person's eyes. In front of her stood a drenched little girl with dark hair and bright eyes. The girl's eyes resembled saucers as she shivered in the cold rain, arms across her chest just as the older Cara had been doing before. Six-year-old Cara stifferend suddenly. Sirens. Sirens wailed in the background, screaming closer and closer. The cops coming to take her away. Older Cara watched Little Cara dive into the alleyway right next to her at the last minute as the first cop car rounded the corner. The rain picked up in that and blinded Cara, obscuring her view of what was happening in that alleyway even though she already knew. A young man of about thirteen was approaching the young Cara, offering a hand and, with that hand, a home. The rain became so bad that the white was all Cara could see. Cara blinked and the dream fast-forwarded four years. Ten-year-old Cara stood in front of her now, taller, confident, the knowing smirk and mischief-filled eyes that she still had plastered on her face. Cara blinked again. Rain once more. This time Cara stood behind a roach motel, looking down upon a murder scene. A bloody body, the murder weapon still in his chest and a cloaked figure over him, hands clenched, hood over her head. Cara tried to look away... but she couldn't. Sirens again. Louder this time. More urgent. Darkness....
"DON'T TAKE ME AWAY!"
Cara shot up in her bed, eyes wide like her old six-year-old self. She still saw darkness. Panic overtook Cara for a second. She rubbed the heels of her palms into her eyes to the point where she feared she'd push them all the way back into her head. Cara blinked hard. Her eyes began to adjust, but her heart still raced. Cara clawed at it. Oh gods, oh gods. What the HADES was that? Cara ran her hands through her hair. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead there, shuddering and forcing her heartbeat to slow down. Cold sweat dripped down her back. 'You'd think,' she thought bitterly. 'That after eight years I'd have gotten over this whole she-bang already.' But no. Cara held onto things. And whoever sent her that nightmare knew it. Cara swung her legs off of the bed but kept her head down. She coached her breathing, making it slow and steady. Her inhales shivered and her exhales shook like a rickety building being tormented by a gale. Slowly, legs as shaky as her breathing, Cara rose. With as much enthusiasm as when she started her journey TO the Treehouse, Cara went out to the main room. Still in the pitch black, Cara re-clipped her dagger belt. Her breaths more steady, Cara opened the Treehouse door. She needed fresh air.
Cara knew her destination as soon as her feet touched the grount. The Arena. Nothing cleared the head like some mindless slaughter. The thought caused her to stop dead in her tracks. The unintended pun made her lengthen her stay in that one spot. After she was sure that her heart stopped pounding painfully again, Cara started off, weaving through the trees with the ease that only came with years of navigating. The trees opened up into the Cabin Area. Thankfully, Cara leaned against one of the outer trees. She closed her eyes, feeling more at home and free than anywhere else. Cara pushed herself off and walked behind the Cabins toward the Arena. Something caught Cara's eye as she got closer. Was that... light? In the Arena? In HER Arena? Ok, so it might not have been CARA'S Arena but... but... no one came to train there in the middle of the night except for her! At those times, the Arena DID belong to her! The caution Cara initially felt was replaced by more of an indignance. Her pace quickened. Cara reached the front door and prepared to burst in... when she thought better. Cara took her regular back-door route.
The person in the Arena didn't actually surprise Cara. Rychard Graesin, Mr. Rome himself , topless, swinging around... a spear. Cara frowned slightly. She leaned against a weapons rack at the back, watching him train. It sort of impressed Cara, to be honest. She knew that the Romans were personally trained to be pretty darn epic, but Rychard definitely surpassed her expectations. He moved as fluidly as she did... perhaps even better (not that she'd admit it). Her mind drifted to the duffel bag Rychard had with him the day he asked for acceptance into Camp Half-Blood... filled with all sorts of goodies. Did Rycahrd know how to handle ALL of those weapons? Cara's eyes broke away from Rychard for a moment when something amazingly musical and loud hit her ears. She found it in an instant. A boombox emitting a sort of... musical score of some kind. Cara smiled but not in a cruel way. How many times had SHE trained, imagining epic music in the background? A shadow caught Cara's eyes then, but before she could make out its owner, Rychard's voice told her that he knew her presence.
Rychard sounded amazingly different from when Cara last saw him. Back then in the Cabin Area he spoke clean and crisp, sophisticated and very Roman-y. Now... he sounded a lot like Cara on a bad day. She frowned at his sharp accusations... of himself and her. Aware that Rychard couldn't see her all that well with her hiding behind a weapons rack and all, Cara stepped into the light, stowing her hands under the folds of her black cloak. The cloak (the same one from the dream) hid her camp shirt, jeans and shoes. The only visible part of her was her neck and head. "Don't flatter yourself," Cara said, tired and having no patience for Rychard's stupidity. "I just needed some fresh air, which is pretty hard to find with you stinking up the place." The second part of Rychard's rant got her thinking a bit. He killed someone too? By the way he talked about it, he was in the same boat as Cara. It was haunting him. Cara snorted and walked toward Rychard. "Well that's a coincidence." Cara said dryly. "I'm a murderer too! Killed a mortal when I was ten. So it'd be a bit hypocrtical of me to hurt you for it OR to think you're a monster." Taking in Rychard's exhausted state, Cara sighed. "By the gods, sit down, Rychard, before you topple over!"
