Post by palmer canton on Oct 20, 2011 15:56:32 GMT -5
IF I'M A BAD PERSON
[/color]YOU DON'T LIKE ME[/center]
palmer elizabeth canton
hi, my name is Kaye. i got seventeen candles
on my birthday cake, but i've blown
out six of them. my other characters would be Palmer
and the special phrase is
admin accepted
on my birthday cake, but i've blown
out six of them. my other characters would be Palmer
and the special phrase is
admin accepted
I GUESS I'LL MAKE
[/color]MY OWN WAY[/center]
NAME: Palmer Elizabeth Canton
NICKNAME: Palm, PC, Canton
GENDER: Female
SEXUALITY: Heterosexual
AGE: Sixteen
BIRTHDAY: March 24th
SPECIES: demigod; greek
IT'S A CIRCLE
[/color]A MEAN CYCLE[/center]
HEIGHT: 5'3"
WEIGHT: 97 lbs
DISTIGUISHING FEATURES: anything cool - piercings, tattoos, ect.
PLAYBY: Kaya Rosenthal
I CAN'T EXCITE YOU
[/color]ANYMORE[/center]
LIKES: Talking, shopping, gymnastics, running, singing, dancing, archery, the color blue, summer time, food, messing with people, early morning, music, guitar
DISLIKES: Being told what to do, yelling, math, swords, hand-to-hand combat, fire, death, bugs, blood, snobby people, the dark, memorizing things, having to stay quiet or still, big crowds
STRENGTHS: Archery, rhyming, gymnastics
WEAKNESSES: Physically she is not the strongest, easily manipulated, hand-to-hand combat, memorization
DREAMS: To be on TV!
FEARS: Death, swords, the dark, fire
FATAL FLAW: Recklessness - Palmer does not think before she acts
PREFERED WEAPON: bow & arrow
ABILITIES: Her archery skills are decent and getting better, she can heal small, shallow wounds, and her music is decent as well
ANYTHING ELSE:
RECKLESS: Palmer has something against directions. She hates being told what to do or when to do something. Any time someone tells her what to do, chances are this girl will do the opposite of that.
IMPULSIVE: This kid will never think anything through. She acts off of her first thought and doesn't care to weigh options. Some may consider this brave, others may call it stupid.
SARCASTIC: Sarcasm is usually used as Palmer's defense mechanism. After living with her evil sister Brittany, she has developed a way of saying things that would be nice in a not-so-nice way.
EASILY MANIPULATED: As someone states a clear point, or if Palmer get something out of it, this girl is very easily manipulated. For those who are good at twisting words it is easy to persuade Palm, but for those who need a lot more practice, good luck. Things usually have to sound like they are Palmer's idea if you want her to do something.
SCATTER-BRAINED: Palmer's thoughts are all over the place. Staying on one subject for too long is unbearable to her.
TALKATIVE: This kid never shuts up. That's just the way she is. Palm will talk to anyone who is next to her and hold a decent conversation.
WHERE'S YOUR GABLE
[/color]YOUR JURY[/center]
OLYMPIAN PARENT: Apollo
MOTHER/FATHER:
Mother: Carly Canton-Parker
Step-father: Ryan Parker
SIBLINGS:
Step-sister- Brittany Parker
PETS: None
HISTORY: Sixteen years ago, Carly Canton took home her premature baby girl from the hospital. The child was brought back to a two bedroom apartment in Las Vegas, Nevada where she would spend the first few years of her life. The mother and daughter grew close within the next five years. Palmer was Carly's first born and treated like a princess because of it. Those first years of her life Palmer got everything that she could ever ask for.
Things began to change by the time Palm was about seven. Her mom left her with a babysitter on most nights and the next thing she knew they were moving out of the apartment and into a house in Oregon with Carly's fiance, Ryan Parker. Ryan had a daughter who was about four years older then Palmer named Brittany. The two girls hated each other. Brittany was never nice to Palmer. She would do things like cut off all of Palmer's teddy bear's head, spit in Palms food, and one time duct tape the younger child to her bed.
Brittany was the devil, nothing could have been worse in Palm's eyes. Ryan was never a saint either, though. He was just as bad as his daughter. Since Carly had become a flight attendant she wasn't home much. Leaving Palmer with the Parker's was a huge mistake.
When PC was about twelve and Brittany was sixteen she was chased around the house by her crazy step sister and her drunk friends trying to dodge various objects being thrown at her. Brittany had thrown a glass vase that shattered leaving a piece of glass stuck in Palmer leg, and one of her friends decided to throw a knife. When Palmer turned around she put her hand up to push the knife away but the blade sliced her palm creating a deep gash that took hours to stop bleeding. The twelve year old probably should've gone to get stitches or something, but there was no one there who cared enough to take her.
Months passed and Brittany left for boarding school. Life was different after that. It was just Palmer and Ryan and it turned out that he wasn't exactly as awful as a person as she expected. Ryan kept is distance and Palmer didn't push it. She simply stayed in her room or at someone else's house.
For the next two years it was just Ryan and Palmer. They got along by staying out of each other's way. Soon Ryan left leaving the fifteen year old kid alone in the apartment. She was fine. Palm had her own car, she didn't worry about bills (Ryan handled those still), school was easy to get to, and everything else wasn't a problem. If she needed help she would call. Carly would come home for a week every month before leaving again for work. Life wasn't too bad.
A little less then a year after she was on her own, Palmer ran into her first monster. She couldn't remember much, just that she was at a party at her friends house. Most of the school was there and everyone was having a grand time. Before she knew it, Palmer was alone in a room in the basement with a guy she couldn't recall seeing at school. She can't remember anything except that he grew really tall and then she was slammed into a wall and blacked out. She woke up a day or so later with her best friend Nally beside her in some... camp? Turns out Nally was sent to watch her, to find her.
Palmer was told about her father and what that guy in the basement actually was. After she was told it wanted to kill her she was officially freaked out. All of this because she was some god's kid? It didn't seem right. It is now six months later. The attack had happened a week after her sixteenth birthday. Palmer is still confused as to what this whole demi god thing is about. She doesn't understand why is was kept form her, but all she knows is she better [practice if she doesn't want a repeat of the party.
YOU'RE NOT A JUDGE BUT
[/color]IF YOU'RE GONNA JUDGE ME[/center]
ROLE-PLAY SAMPLE:
"Why is this just impossible!" Palmer blurted out through gritted teeth as she threw her sword on the ground out of frustration. Standing before her was a large wooden practice dummy that she had been hacking at for the past hour. Within that time period Palmer had gotten cut by her own sword, fallen over her own feet, and at one point she was hit by one of the dummy's swinging wooden arms. How is it that hand to hand combat could be so easy for some people and so difficult for others? Archery was more her thing. Shooting an arrow from afar and never actually facing your opponent seemed to make more sense in Palmer's mind. Sword fighting on the other hand was another story. Over the last three years at the Academy (she never had a chance to go to the "real" Camp Half Blood) she had made minimal progress when it came to hand to hand stuff. Throwing spears, that was find, throwing knives, that was okay too, but taking a sword and swining it at someone while trying to defend yourself against their swinging sword, that was too much for her to handle.
Her weapon hit the ground hard enough to bounce slightly before laying still beside her. Palmer's eyes followed the swords movements until it was still. She shook her head before throwing a small fit and stomping on the ground. Her hands clenched into fists as she spun in a small, tight circle. Her single braid in the back of her head hit against her back as she moved. In a moment the tantrum ended and Palmer composed herself as if nothing had happened. She didn't care to look around to see if anyone had just witnessed her episode, at the moment she was too caught up in her own frustration to remember that there were others who would judge her for her actions. But then again why would she care what anyone thought?
Palmer took a deep breath before picking up her sword and attacking the harmless wooden model before her. She wasn't going for style or technique, this was all about getting revenge on how dumb this whole sword fighting practice idea thing was. She moved quickly with absolutely no grace or thought as to how things should be done. This state of rage wasn't common. Moments like these usually only occurred when she was alone and completely and utterly frustrated. Palmer was usually the positive one with a rather happy-go-lucky sort of thing going for her. For some reason, when it came to training, she could never keep her upbeat attitude.
It wasn't longer then three minutes before she was over her fit of rage. Her arms quickly grew tired from wielding her sword so harshly at an object that could barely react. Her breathing grew heavier as she slowed down until eventually she was, once again, hit by one of the swinging arms of the dummy. How she didn't see it is a good question considering the force was barely enough to knock her over. Palmer stumbled back a little before taking the short fall to the ground landing on her back. It wasn't the dummy's fault as much as it was her tripping her own feet. The sword that she had made last year slipped from her hand and fell beside her. Instantly Palmer sat up as a reflex. With a simple shake of her head and a loud 'ugh', Palmer laid back, not caring how dirty her cloths or hair got at this point, in order to catch her breath. She pulled her hands over her eyes and mumbled to herself "I hate this. I hate this. I hate this." Over and over again.
Her weapon hit the ground hard enough to bounce slightly before laying still beside her. Palmer's eyes followed the swords movements until it was still. She shook her head before throwing a small fit and stomping on the ground. Her hands clenched into fists as she spun in a small, tight circle. Her single braid in the back of her head hit against her back as she moved. In a moment the tantrum ended and Palmer composed herself as if nothing had happened. She didn't care to look around to see if anyone had just witnessed her episode, at the moment she was too caught up in her own frustration to remember that there were others who would judge her for her actions. But then again why would she care what anyone thought?
Palmer took a deep breath before picking up her sword and attacking the harmless wooden model before her. She wasn't going for style or technique, this was all about getting revenge on how dumb this whole sword fighting practice idea thing was. She moved quickly with absolutely no grace or thought as to how things should be done. This state of rage wasn't common. Moments like these usually only occurred when she was alone and completely and utterly frustrated. Palmer was usually the positive one with a rather happy-go-lucky sort of thing going for her. For some reason, when it came to training, she could never keep her upbeat attitude.
It wasn't longer then three minutes before she was over her fit of rage. Her arms quickly grew tired from wielding her sword so harshly at an object that could barely react. Her breathing grew heavier as she slowed down until eventually she was, once again, hit by one of the swinging arms of the dummy. How she didn't see it is a good question considering the force was barely enough to knock her over. Palmer stumbled back a little before taking the short fall to the ground landing on her back. It wasn't the dummy's fault as much as it was her tripping her own feet. The sword that she had made last year slipped from her hand and fell beside her. Instantly Palmer sat up as a reflex. With a simple shake of her head and a loud 'ugh', Palmer laid back, not caring how dirty her cloths or hair got at this point, in order to catch her breath. She pulled her hands over her eyes and mumbled to herself "I hate this. I hate this. I hate this." Over and over again.
WELL SENTENCE ME TO
[/color]ANOTHER LIFE[/center]
THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY JESSIE OF DEMIGODS & MONSTERS. DO NOT STEAL/TAKE CREDIT OFF.
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