Personality-- blunt, but not because she's mean; she's a bit awkward. Smart, but doesn't think she is. Kind of sweet but not that sweet. Again, awkward.
Appearance; long, straight brown hair, brown eyes.
Other; orphan. Inherited lightsaber from her mother.
********
Cleora Marvel
The ceiling is very clean.
Unmarred, beautiful in a very odd, soulless, pristine kind of way. Not a single crack or stain or blemish-- just a dull white.
I should be reading, I think, instead of thinking about the ceiling.
I
continue staring at the plaster. Whoever built this academy did a good
job with that ceiling . . . . the person who painted the green-ish blue
walls of the room, however, must have been an idiot. The line of where
the ceiling meets the wall is a wobbly, messy blur. There is a stripe
of the blue paint across the door to my room, too, however that
happened.
In case you haven't guessed this already, I painted
my walls-- and, inedvertently, my door. The Headmistress said it was
about learning how to keep your hands steady, blah, blah, blah, but I
think she just wanted to cut the expense of a professional painter. She
made us use paint the same color as our lightsaber, too, which I think
was just to punish a girl who spoke out rudely in class and also so
happened to have the unfortunate luck of possessing a rather
vomit-colored lightsaber.
Aside from my attention to the paint, I
really couldn't care less about the rest of my room. As far as I'm
concerned, it's just a place to study and sleep and nothing more. A
plain wooden dresser, which houses my school uniform-- white robes. A
plain bedside table on which is a plain lamp, next to my plain wooden
bedframe, with it's mattress, and the plain white sheets and pillowcases.
And that's it. That is my room. It's not much, but I don't need it to be.
My door suddenly bursts open, interrupting my detailed thoughts about my ceiling.
Nice! I'm really glad to see this on here. I know it's really soon to start writing, but I'm excited about this. :D
Discount the story bit if it's too soon.
Name-- Cleora Marvel
Age-- 15
Occupation-- student at a Jedi Acedemy (which is very small. 10 or 15 students.)
Lightsaber-- blue-ish green, silver-ish handle, engraved.
Personality-- blunt, but not because she's mean; she's a bit awkward. Smart, but doesn't think she is. Kind of sweet but not that sweet. Again, awkward.
Appearance; long, straight brown hair, brown eyes.
Other; orphan. Inherited lightsaber from her mother.
********
Cleora Marvel
The ceiling is very clean.
Unmarred, beautiful in a very odd, soulless, pristine kind of way. Not a single crack or stain or blemish-- just a dull white.
I should be reading, I think, instead of thinking about the ceiling.
I
continue staring at the plaster. Whoever built this academy did a good
job with that ceiling . . . . the person who painted the green-ish blue
walls of the room, however, must have been an idiot. The line of where
the ceiling meets the wall is a wobbly, messy blur. There is a stripe
of the blue paint across the door to my room, too, however that
happened.
In case you haven't guessed this already, I painted
my walls-- and, inedvertently, my door. The Headmistress said it was
about learning how to keep your hands steady, blah, blah, blah, but I
think she just wanted to cut the expense of a professional painter. She
made us use paint the same color as our lightsaber, too, which I think
was just to punish a girl who spoke out rudely in class and also so
happened to have the unfortunate luck of possessing a rather
vomit-colored lightsaber.
Aside from my attention to the paint, I
really couldn't care less about the rest of my room. As far as I'm
concerned, it's just a place to study and sleep and nothing more. A
plain wooden dresser, which houses my school uniform-- white robes. A
plain bedside table on which is a plain lamp, next to my plain wooden
bedframe, with it's mattress, and the plain white sheets and pillowcases.
And that's it. That is my room. It's not much, but I don't need it to be.
My door suddenly bursts open, interrupting my detailed thoughts about my ceiling.
(July 14, 2015 - 7:08 pm)
Top.
(July 14, 2015 - 7:08 pm)
Top!
(July 14, 2015 - 10:06 pm)
name : Kaylynn Herst
age :13
Appearence : long dark brown hair blue eyes olive skin
lightsaber: purple two lightsaber
personallity : stubborn doesn't know what path to go on leader like kind rebel if she believes something is right she will do it no matter what
backround: her father
is an acholic and so she ran away with her sister Maggie; her sister is a pawdawan 5 years old.
(July 15, 2015 - 8:12 pm)
I'm changing my age to 14. Can u be like a big sister?
(July 15, 2015 - 8:15 pm)