[application] Joey
Your Name: Wicke
Age: 18
Username: munchacha
Email: hanyuurei at yahoo dot cooom
IM: Wicketres *or* discof1refly @ aim
Character Name: Joey
Background: Back when the Church still claimed that the world was flat, sorcery wasn't such a far-fetched thing. It wasn't the kind of club you would take the in-laws to, but it was there, and once you knew about it there was no turning back or pretending you hadn't; a "join and keep the secret or die" deal. There was a particular sorcery that would occasionally rebound on the user depending on whether or not they accepted Court (Seelie, Unseelie) protection and what they did with the magic: shapeshifting.
Those freelancing shifters who lived off coastlines tended to choose sea-faring shapes over land-based creatures. The first selkies were the men and women to become seals, and swim, and feed upon the wilder waters. For every unnecessary kill, it became harder and harder for them to become human again. They couldn't muster the will to stay away from the ocean. Eventually these shifters gave up their human lives to make the sea their permanent home. They realized later on that for every misdeed they committed another would befall them, and that for every good turn they did another was received. These selkies came to understand the karmic balance at stake. It didn't matter how or why, it would bite them in the ass. The sea kept score.
Some selkies stayed near land, unable to fully let go of their humanity and celebrating when the sea would let them take off their seal skins. Those who got up to mischeif paid for it by having their time limited, propagating the seal-folk lore where every year (violent, murdering, raping shit), ninth night (stop capsizing boats) or seventh stream (you should really learn to keep your flippers to yourself) a selkie may take off his or her skin. In actuality the average selkie could change whenever it liked, though always, always their home would be in the water.
Their numbers thinned over the ages, enemies clever, and blubber, fur and skin being popular items of trade. The sorcerers' descendants forgot their ancestors had originally walked on land, happy to keep to their domain and -- for the most part -- leave humans be. There were exceptions, of course, selkies who for their own reasons walked among humans and other fae. Selkies bred amongst themselves and sometimes by humans. When one wanted to breed with her own kind, and her clan was pushing or about to push the limits of 'purebred', she or he had to leave in search of another clan to do so before returning.
Joey was conceived in waters barely outside the jurisdiction of her mother's clan, and carried to an unpopulated Hawaiian island, host to a small but diverse selkie clan. Close, but not the one she had left. After months of harrowing search she would accept safety where it showed itself. They stayed even after she recovered from birth in sping; for nearly seventeen years/cycles Joey would never do more than itch to explore the waters outside of the blissful zone her family had claimed.
For all that her closest friend was of those who tempted fate by pretending to be human on one of the more civilized islands, Joey was sheltered. She, her cousins who weren't blood related but may as well be, in fact most of the younger selkies around her had never seen the business end of a harpoon. They aged as humans did and while that made them more vulnerable as seals, the dangers were so few in their little haven that only the elders' tales and grizzly veteran selkie-folk who wandered through could instill the necessary fear of those who lived on land. So while Joey's generation was friendlier and more trusting than the elders, they also knew to be wary when the evidence was scars visible on the backs of their kin. Natural predators in the water they encountered sooner or later.
They could laugh and dance at night and sunbathe during the day, but under no circumstances were they to allow their skins to be taken. If a human found them, he was to be drowned and left on a foreign shore. Do what you do, but do what's best for the clan. Carry your weight and until you're an adult you stay close. Violence is unacceptable. Solve conflicts peacefully and/or involve an elder.
Repeatedly violating these rules meant exile, judged though they were case by case. They weren't a problem for Joey, who shied from conflict and generally did her best to be good to the people who hadn't needed to take her in, and had anyway. As a result, her childhood and adolescence was... well, boring. She did nothing to attract attention to herself, was generally easy to manipulate, and rarely if ever spoke out. Excitement for her was listening to stories and exploring the things she could do after taking her seal skin off, an area in which she was a late bloomer. Joey struggled with shifting until her early teens. From then on it was a quick and easy process.
The younger folk knew with the responsibility of an adult came dangers, which in their eyes spiced up adult life a fair amount. Less than a year away from recognition as a mature selkie, and Joey could only look to it with fearful apprehension. She didn't feel ready in the slightest.
((will take her from two or three months -- moons, for her -- before reaching 'official' maturity at seventeen years of age. They count by seasonal cycles.))
Personality: As a rule, the selkies who keep track of their karma try to leave the world as it was before they entered it. Joey isn't neat in the sense that she cleans her room every single day (she doesn't have a room, so it's moot anyhow), but she cleans up after herself and others, if they let her. She likes to prettify things, easily wowed by aesthetic, and bright and varied colors. Hair fascinates her especially, and when she and the others are human she is only too happy to fiddle, provided she's allowed.
That being said, Joey respects the boundaries of other people and hopes they do the same for her. She's tentative and backpedals as fast as she can if it's apparent she's done something inappropriate, and lest it happen again does her best to remember the lesson. Unfortunately, the more she begins to trust and be comfortable around someone, the higher the chance of a momentary lapse of judgment. If on the flip side she is made uncomfortable... Joey does everything she can to avoid hostile confrontations, so while she can speak for herself, it's not hard to bully her into shutting up. If a situation turns violent, it's her nature to choose flight over fight. Knowing this about herself is part of why she's wary of anyone who isn't of her clan. Out of necessity, and uncertainty, not prejudice; Joey is inquisitive, and her curiosity and peacable attitude lend to her willingness for learning and work. She tries not to be too obviously ignorant as she learns, and absorbs information like a sponge.
She isn't weak-willed, even if serious arguments make her panic. Joey has a basic, strong foundation on what is right and wrong-- like hurting others for spite or fun. If asked her views and left no way to deflect the conflict, she will tactfully but firmly state her position. While she isn't human, Joey has the same insecurities and habit of talking herself down. Let sleeping dogs lie, etc. When she's happy, she likes to spread the good feeling to whoever is around. When she's unhappy, the bad feeling is promptly buried and magnifies her hesitations and tendency to make more mistakes. It's a task in itself to get her really and actually pissed off, but not impossible. Prod her about her faults enough and she cries, but rip into the few friends she has and -- well, Joey might still cry, but her brain-to-mouth filter switches off to defend them.
Appearance: Joey's default appearance is alike to a Hawaiian monk seal, not yet fully grown and a good foot or so smaller than an adult. Her hide is a light grey, mottled in places and sometimes darker depending on the light. Her mother insists she needs more blubber on her.
Minus the seal skin, not even days on end of sun-basking can give her a tan. Joey doesn't get sunburnt as much as she used to, but her smattering of freckles darkens after she soaks up enough rays. Her red hair, having never seen a pair of scissors, thankfully grows slowly but has worked its way to her lower back. It's commonplace for there to be weeds, sand, and a rock or two stuck in it. Joey makes for a diminutive blue-eyed human female, wider on bottom than she is up top and, while healthy, lacking the muscle or the stamina of a hunter. Her eyebrows tilt upward in such a way that when she isn't pulling a distinct face, she looks faintly surprised and/or beseeching.
Basically, Joey is squishy, smells like fish, and can easily be substituted for a punching bag.
Spoken / written languages: Spoken English. Can read the alphabet, takes an age to do more.
Abilities: Selkies are resistant to extreme colds with their seal skin on, no matter their apparent "breed". They age as humans do, far, far slower than your average seal.
With their skin taken off, there's no biological difference between them and other humans aside from the ability to become a seal again. The one who manages to steal a selkie's skin has the power to compel just by threatening to destroy it, thereby preventing the selkie from ever returning to the waves. This is how humans enslave their husbands and wives in the old tales, when people still believed.
Items: NOTHING. NADAAAA.
Third Person Sample: Toes were so weird. Joey wiggled hers, heels sinking into the wet sand. She marveled quietly at her big toe and its fellows. Curious, how they each got smaller in a row. And why five per foot?
She would have been content to sit there for another hour at least, enjoying the setting sun, splashing inefficiently at the younger untransformed Folk she was stuck overseeing while the others engaged in various stages of revelry. Not that Joey minded. The young ones were less taxing to keep after than some of the boys and girls her age, by a long shot...
At any rate the sea had other plans. With the next gently rolling wave came a surge of dark fur and fin. Joey had expected Nidi to return from her risqué excursion, but she hadn't been braced for the fury with which Nidi whirled in the shallow froth, whipping off her skin faster than she could think 'oh no'. Her arm raised to shield her sensitive human eyes from the salty spray, and one eye on the toddler seals who flopped about as if Nidi's rage was a spectacular game, Joey froze in place. She waited until the very tanned woman had plunked her butt down next to her to dare open her mouth.
Nakedness was an every day occurrence for their clan. Clothing was of no use to a people who slept half in the water most nights. It wasn't Nidi being bare as a newborn that made the nervousness and worry packing her query stand out. "Are you okay?" That earned her a deathly stare; Joey's eyes skittered away from hers, checking on the young again as pretense. "... Sorry. Umm, will talking about it help?"
The irate selkie threw her weight back and laid out, long fingers kneading handfuls of shell-mottled sand. "Fucking arrogant horses. I am fine, thank you for asking."
The sharpness was nothing strange, but Joey began to find her toes very interesting again. Rather than dig her hole deeper by replying, she grabbed them. Nidi kept right on going, barely sparing her feet a glance.
"Have you ever spoken to a water horse? No? Good, they would fuck you and drown you given half a chance. Dirty little kelpie on the human island found my skin and thought he could have some fun with the ocean bumpkin," she railed, and the redhead next to her bit her lip, flicking a toenail and resisting the temptation to ask if she hadn't. Nidi was famously promiscuous.
They were fairly close, so she didn't think it would earn her a pinch if she dared to ask: "Did you...?"
Nidi preened, just about. "After taking my skin back? Of course. I showed him bumpkin," she snorted disdainfully, and Joey hid a mortified smile.
First Person Sample: [Joey wakes up on the softest bed of sand she's ever laid in. She yawns, whiskers tweaking, and rolls onto her back. Through the muggy haze of contented sleep, she notices how oddly... unbroken the bed is. Not even the smallest of shells digging into her backside. The blacks of her eyes open to slits, and then fly wide.
Walls. She has NEVER seen the inside of a human dwelling, but Nidi likes to tell her of some things and she's mentioned the inexplicable need humans have to box themselves in. And of-- what are they called, matters? Mattrooses? Whatever it is that Joey's seal body is stretched out on. She freaks out and rolls all the way off of the bed, landing hard on top of what feels like a rock and protesting her new circumstances with an explosion of panicked grunt-barks.
The "rock" is her communicator, what a surprise! And as she is currently rolling around on it, the whole ship gets to hear a seal flipping her shit. ORT ORT ORT.]
Preferred Quarters: Deck 12, please. :3
Age: 18
Username: munchacha
Email: hanyuurei at yahoo dot cooom
IM: Wicketres *or* discof1refly @ aim
Character Name: Joey
Background: Back when the Church still claimed that the world was flat, sorcery wasn't such a far-fetched thing. It wasn't the kind of club you would take the in-laws to, but it was there, and once you knew about it there was no turning back or pretending you hadn't; a "join and keep the secret or die" deal. There was a particular sorcery that would occasionally rebound on the user depending on whether or not they accepted Court (Seelie, Unseelie) protection and what they did with the magic: shapeshifting.
Those freelancing shifters who lived off coastlines tended to choose sea-faring shapes over land-based creatures. The first selkies were the men and women to become seals, and swim, and feed upon the wilder waters. For every unnecessary kill, it became harder and harder for them to become human again. They couldn't muster the will to stay away from the ocean. Eventually these shifters gave up their human lives to make the sea their permanent home. They realized later on that for every misdeed they committed another would befall them, and that for every good turn they did another was received. These selkies came to understand the karmic balance at stake. It didn't matter how or why, it would bite them in the ass. The sea kept score.
Some selkies stayed near land, unable to fully let go of their humanity and celebrating when the sea would let them take off their seal skins. Those who got up to mischeif paid for it by having their time limited, propagating the seal-folk lore where every year (violent, murdering, raping shit), ninth night (stop capsizing boats) or seventh stream (you should really learn to keep your flippers to yourself) a selkie may take off his or her skin. In actuality the average selkie could change whenever it liked, though always, always their home would be in the water.
Their numbers thinned over the ages, enemies clever, and blubber, fur and skin being popular items of trade. The sorcerers' descendants forgot their ancestors had originally walked on land, happy to keep to their domain and -- for the most part -- leave humans be. There were exceptions, of course, selkies who for their own reasons walked among humans and other fae. Selkies bred amongst themselves and sometimes by humans. When one wanted to breed with her own kind, and her clan was pushing or about to push the limits of 'purebred', she or he had to leave in search of another clan to do so before returning.
Joey was conceived in waters barely outside the jurisdiction of her mother's clan, and carried to an unpopulated Hawaiian island, host to a small but diverse selkie clan. Close, but not the one she had left. After months of harrowing search she would accept safety where it showed itself. They stayed even after she recovered from birth in sping; for nearly seventeen years/cycles Joey would never do more than itch to explore the waters outside of the blissful zone her family had claimed.
For all that her closest friend was of those who tempted fate by pretending to be human on one of the more civilized islands, Joey was sheltered. She, her cousins who weren't blood related but may as well be, in fact most of the younger selkies around her had never seen the business end of a harpoon. They aged as humans did and while that made them more vulnerable as seals, the dangers were so few in their little haven that only the elders' tales and grizzly veteran selkie-folk who wandered through could instill the necessary fear of those who lived on land. So while Joey's generation was friendlier and more trusting than the elders, they also knew to be wary when the evidence was scars visible on the backs of their kin. Natural predators in the water they encountered sooner or later.
They could laugh and dance at night and sunbathe during the day, but under no circumstances were they to allow their skins to be taken. If a human found them, he was to be drowned and left on a foreign shore. Do what you do, but do what's best for the clan. Carry your weight and until you're an adult you stay close. Violence is unacceptable. Solve conflicts peacefully and/or involve an elder.
Repeatedly violating these rules meant exile, judged though they were case by case. They weren't a problem for Joey, who shied from conflict and generally did her best to be good to the people who hadn't needed to take her in, and had anyway. As a result, her childhood and adolescence was... well, boring. She did nothing to attract attention to herself, was generally easy to manipulate, and rarely if ever spoke out. Excitement for her was listening to stories and exploring the things she could do after taking her seal skin off, an area in which she was a late bloomer. Joey struggled with shifting until her early teens. From then on it was a quick and easy process.
The younger folk knew with the responsibility of an adult came dangers, which in their eyes spiced up adult life a fair amount. Less than a year away from recognition as a mature selkie, and Joey could only look to it with fearful apprehension. She didn't feel ready in the slightest.
((will take her from two or three months -- moons, for her -- before reaching 'official' maturity at seventeen years of age. They count by seasonal cycles.))
Personality: As a rule, the selkies who keep track of their karma try to leave the world as it was before they entered it. Joey isn't neat in the sense that she cleans her room every single day (she doesn't have a room, so it's moot anyhow), but she cleans up after herself and others, if they let her. She likes to prettify things, easily wowed by aesthetic, and bright and varied colors. Hair fascinates her especially, and when she and the others are human she is only too happy to fiddle, provided she's allowed.
That being said, Joey respects the boundaries of other people and hopes they do the same for her. She's tentative and backpedals as fast as she can if it's apparent she's done something inappropriate, and lest it happen again does her best to remember the lesson. Unfortunately, the more she begins to trust and be comfortable around someone, the higher the chance of a momentary lapse of judgment. If on the flip side she is made uncomfortable... Joey does everything she can to avoid hostile confrontations, so while she can speak for herself, it's not hard to bully her into shutting up. If a situation turns violent, it's her nature to choose flight over fight. Knowing this about herself is part of why she's wary of anyone who isn't of her clan. Out of necessity, and uncertainty, not prejudice; Joey is inquisitive, and her curiosity and peacable attitude lend to her willingness for learning and work. She tries not to be too obviously ignorant as she learns, and absorbs information like a sponge.
She isn't weak-willed, even if serious arguments make her panic. Joey has a basic, strong foundation on what is right and wrong-- like hurting others for spite or fun. If asked her views and left no way to deflect the conflict, she will tactfully but firmly state her position. While she isn't human, Joey has the same insecurities and habit of talking herself down. Let sleeping dogs lie, etc. When she's happy, she likes to spread the good feeling to whoever is around. When she's unhappy, the bad feeling is promptly buried and magnifies her hesitations and tendency to make more mistakes. It's a task in itself to get her really and actually pissed off, but not impossible. Prod her about her faults enough and she cries, but rip into the few friends she has and -- well, Joey might still cry, but her brain-to-mouth filter switches off to defend them.
Appearance: Joey's default appearance is alike to a Hawaiian monk seal, not yet fully grown and a good foot or so smaller than an adult. Her hide is a light grey, mottled in places and sometimes darker depending on the light. Her mother insists she needs more blubber on her.
Minus the seal skin, not even days on end of sun-basking can give her a tan. Joey doesn't get sunburnt as much as she used to, but her smattering of freckles darkens after she soaks up enough rays. Her red hair, having never seen a pair of scissors, thankfully grows slowly but has worked its way to her lower back. It's commonplace for there to be weeds, sand, and a rock or two stuck in it. Joey makes for a diminutive blue-eyed human female, wider on bottom than she is up top and, while healthy, lacking the muscle or the stamina of a hunter. Her eyebrows tilt upward in such a way that when she isn't pulling a distinct face, she looks faintly surprised and/or beseeching.
Basically, Joey is squishy, smells like fish, and can easily be substituted for a punching bag.
Spoken / written languages: Spoken English. Can read the alphabet, takes an age to do more.
Abilities: Selkies are resistant to extreme colds with their seal skin on, no matter their apparent "breed". They age as humans do, far, far slower than your average seal.
With their skin taken off, there's no biological difference between them and other humans aside from the ability to become a seal again. The one who manages to steal a selkie's skin has the power to compel just by threatening to destroy it, thereby preventing the selkie from ever returning to the waves. This is how humans enslave their husbands and wives in the old tales, when people still believed.
Items: NOTHING. NADAAAA.
Third Person Sample: Toes were so weird. Joey wiggled hers, heels sinking into the wet sand. She marveled quietly at her big toe and its fellows. Curious, how they each got smaller in a row. And why five per foot?
She would have been content to sit there for another hour at least, enjoying the setting sun, splashing inefficiently at the younger untransformed Folk she was stuck overseeing while the others engaged in various stages of revelry. Not that Joey minded. The young ones were less taxing to keep after than some of the boys and girls her age, by a long shot...
At any rate the sea had other plans. With the next gently rolling wave came a surge of dark fur and fin. Joey had expected Nidi to return from her risqué excursion, but she hadn't been braced for the fury with which Nidi whirled in the shallow froth, whipping off her skin faster than she could think 'oh no'. Her arm raised to shield her sensitive human eyes from the salty spray, and one eye on the toddler seals who flopped about as if Nidi's rage was a spectacular game, Joey froze in place. She waited until the very tanned woman had plunked her butt down next to her to dare open her mouth.
Nakedness was an every day occurrence for their clan. Clothing was of no use to a people who slept half in the water most nights. It wasn't Nidi being bare as a newborn that made the nervousness and worry packing her query stand out. "Are you okay?" That earned her a deathly stare; Joey's eyes skittered away from hers, checking on the young again as pretense. "... Sorry. Umm, will talking about it help?"
The irate selkie threw her weight back and laid out, long fingers kneading handfuls of shell-mottled sand. "Fucking arrogant horses. I am fine, thank you for asking."
The sharpness was nothing strange, but Joey began to find her toes very interesting again. Rather than dig her hole deeper by replying, she grabbed them. Nidi kept right on going, barely sparing her feet a glance.
"Have you ever spoken to a water horse? No? Good, they would fuck you and drown you given half a chance. Dirty little kelpie on the human island found my skin and thought he could have some fun with the ocean bumpkin," she railed, and the redhead next to her bit her lip, flicking a toenail and resisting the temptation to ask if she hadn't. Nidi was famously promiscuous.
They were fairly close, so she didn't think it would earn her a pinch if she dared to ask: "Did you...?"
Nidi preened, just about. "After taking my skin back? Of course. I showed him bumpkin," she snorted disdainfully, and Joey hid a mortified smile.
First Person Sample: [Joey wakes up on the softest bed of sand she's ever laid in. She yawns, whiskers tweaking, and rolls onto her back. Through the muggy haze of contented sleep, she notices how oddly... unbroken the bed is. Not even the smallest of shells digging into her backside. The blacks of her eyes open to slits, and then fly wide.
Walls. She has NEVER seen the inside of a human dwelling, but Nidi likes to tell her of some things and she's mentioned the inexplicable need humans have to box themselves in. And of-- what are they called, matters? Mattrooses? Whatever it is that Joey's seal body is stretched out on. She freaks out and rolls all the way off of the bed, landing hard on top of what feels like a rock and protesting her new circumstances with an explosion of panicked grunt-barks.
The "rock" is her communicator, what a surprise! And as she is currently rolling around on it, the whole ship gets to hear a seal flipping her shit. ORT ORT ORT.]
Preferred Quarters: Deck 12, please. :3