DreamChild's Bio (OC)
((I am not sure if this is the right place to put this, but here goes nothing. ^.^;;; ))
Name: Callipe
Alias: coffee shop waitress
Age: Undetermined (looks to be about sixteen)
Physical Description: medium height, willowy, long purple hair, violet eyes, classical Greek features, long hands
Personality: Volitile, eccentric, absent minded, has a tendancy to do things on a whim
Powers: As the daughter of Morpheus, the God of dreams, she has the power to enter the dreams of any sleeper, and to create dreams for said sleeper. Her singing voice has the power to put all but those with the strongest will power into a deep sleep. (The reversal of this power, however, is the fact that Callipe can neither sleep nor dream. She is capable of "daydreaming", but that is as close as she can get)She can speak in any language when she is in the world of dreams, for there, all launguages are one.
1st person example post: The first thing I remember about coming to the USA would probably be the pidgeons sitting on the telepone line outside my new apartment. My uncle Loki was sitting, dressed as a fast food waiter, at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. The fast food waiter costume was his favourite mortal disguise at the time. Now he goes around dressed up as an icon for a certain drive through restaurant, a strange fellow with a bulbous head and a pointy yellow hat... Anyway, my uncle Loki is the one who brought me here. According to father, I wouldn't have to go, if not for Zeus... Stupid hornball of a God. As soon as I started looking like a woman he started lusting after me, and you know how his wife, Hera, is. Dad had to get me out of there before I was impregnated with a God's baby, or turned into a stag, or both. Such a bother. And don't get me started on all the drama!....
3rd Person example post: It was a quiet afternoon in the coffee shop, the sunlight filtering in like honey, soft and golden, through the window. The purple haired barrista stood behind the counter, reading a novel and slowly chewing a peice of gum. Her violet eyes dashed bak and forth, back and forth across the page. Her hair was piled messily on top of her head, held up by a few straining pins. There is usually not much to do on a Wendsday afternoon in a coffee shop. This day was no exception.....
Name: Callipe
Alias: coffee shop waitress
Age: Undetermined (looks to be about sixteen)
Physical Description: medium height, willowy, long purple hair, violet eyes, classical Greek features, long hands
Personality: Volitile, eccentric, absent minded, has a tendancy to do things on a whim
Powers: As the daughter of Morpheus, the God of dreams, she has the power to enter the dreams of any sleeper, and to create dreams for said sleeper. Her singing voice has the power to put all but those with the strongest will power into a deep sleep. (The reversal of this power, however, is the fact that Callipe can neither sleep nor dream. She is capable of "daydreaming", but that is as close as she can get)She can speak in any language when she is in the world of dreams, for there, all launguages are one.
1st person example post: The first thing I remember about coming to the USA would probably be the pidgeons sitting on the telepone line outside my new apartment. My uncle Loki was sitting, dressed as a fast food waiter, at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. The fast food waiter costume was his favourite mortal disguise at the time. Now he goes around dressed up as an icon for a certain drive through restaurant, a strange fellow with a bulbous head and a pointy yellow hat... Anyway, my uncle Loki is the one who brought me here. According to father, I wouldn't have to go, if not for Zeus... Stupid hornball of a God. As soon as I started looking like a woman he started lusting after me, and you know how his wife, Hera, is. Dad had to get me out of there before I was impregnated with a God's baby, or turned into a stag, or both. Such a bother. And don't get me started on all the drama!....
3rd Person example post: It was a quiet afternoon in the coffee shop, the sunlight filtering in like honey, soft and golden, through the window. The purple haired barrista stood behind the counter, reading a novel and slowly chewing a peice of gum. Her violet eyes dashed bak and forth, back and forth across the page. Her hair was piled messily on top of her head, held up by a few straining pins. There is usually not much to do on a Wendsday afternoon in a coffee shop. This day was no exception.....