Post by Megan Cooper on Nov 7, 2009 1:12:38 GMT
Name: Megan Alice Cooper
Nickname(s): Meggie, Meg, dimples, pip-squirt, Cooper, Miss Cooper
Age: twenty-one
Birth Date: December twenty-eighth
Gender: female
Sexuality: heterosexual
Being?: human
Occupation: Investigation Team
Eyes: brown, wide, doe-like
Hair: auburn, dark reddish brown, curly
Build: petite, slim
Height: 4'10"
Weight: about ninety to one hundred pounds
Anything else?: freckles; red curly hair; bright brown eyes; round childlike face; dimples; ears a bit too large; small, petite, and thin; 4'10"; looks like a little kid.
Play By: Autumn Reeser
Likes:
daisies; rabbits; singing; cooking & baking; nature; hugs; sunrises; the color pink; sweets; strawberries; her family & friends; the scent of jasmine & vanilla; sunlight; animals; mythology; climbing trees; fireflies; adages; stars; snow; happy endings.
Dislikes:
ain; fighting; the scent of roses; violence; crying; feeling vulnerable & helpless; being ill; blood; darkness & small spaces; loneliness; death; thunder & lightning; storms; darkness; clouds; sad endings.
Fears:
thunder, lightning, heights, failing, being a disappointment, never being wanted or loved
Personality: insecure , subject to fears, doubts, etc.; not self-confident or assured. Megan is probably the most insecure person you will ever meet. Somehow, throughout her life, she has developed an inferiority complex of sorts. Her brother took care of her growing up, and because of that she's always felt like she owes him, and she's become sensitive to criticism, no matter how constructively it is presented. She often tries to hide this, but the fact of the matter is that she takes criticism as a personal attack. Her inferiority complex leads her to avoid competitions - since she pretty much feels that she cannot win, and to have a tendency of seclusiveness and timidity. Especially after her friend's death, when she got involved in this whole supernatural business, she's been even more afraid and self-conscious, afraid that she'll never avenge her friend's death.
sweet , amiable; kind or gracious. Megan is a sweet and gentle soul, generally likable and friendly, with many qualms about saying 'no.' She isn't judgmental and tends to think the best of people, which can often land her in trouble. She has always been almost childish in her naivety, far too trusting. She is stubborn in her beliefs, too narrow-minded for her own good, which she gets from her mother. For the most part, however, Megan acts her age: young. She is quite innocent and can become nervous and embarrassed easily.
naive , having or showing unaffected simplicity of nature or absence of artificiality; unsophisticated; having or showing a lack of experience, judgment, or information. Although many people may bully her and disregard her because of her scrawny build, she still manages to keep her innocence and amiability in tact, two of her more appealing qualities. This, however, makes her easy prey. She is often pushed around and roughened into situations she'd rather not be involved in, as well.
clumsy , awkward in movement or action; without skill or grace. Megan is definitely the clumsiest person you'll ever meet. On a normal day, she is very clumsy, tending to run into things or tripping and falling. She'd trip over a blade of grass if it hit her foot the wrong way.
stubborn , unreasonably obstinate; obstinately unmoving. Despite her constant attempts to keep an open mind and reluctance to take a stand and fight, Megan has a surprising stubborn streak for such a small timid girl. Once her mind fixates on an idea it doesn't shake loose easily. Her non-existent self-esteem serves as the perfect example. No matter the compliments or praise she receives, no matter the dormant talent she discovers and awakens, no matter the people who try day after day to reach her, the idea that Megan will one day consider herself more than just a little worthless girl is laughable.
sensitive , having acute mental or emotional sensibility; aware of and responsive to the feelings of others. Most can tell upon first meeting her that she possesses a gentle, patient, malleable nature and has many generous qualities that allow her to be friendly, goodnatured, kind and compassionate. She is sensitive to those around her, and can often pick up on how others feel immediately. In such cases, she will respond with the utmost sympathy and tact to any suffering she encounters. Many people tend to be drawn to her due to her easy going, affectionate, submissive nature, and she generally offers no threat or challenge to stronger and more exuberant characters. She can easily accept those around her and when thrown in a situation she doesn't agree with, if trying to extricate herself has failed, she will simply adapt, accepting what has happened.
Hometown: Burbank, California
Mother: Alison Cooper
Father: Frank Cooper
Siblings: Kristoffer Cooper, older brother.
Anyone else: Nicholas and Samuel Sullivan are like brothers to her.
History: Megan doesn't remember her parents at all. She was very young when she and Kristoffer were left behind, or abandoned, or whatever happened to make their parents disappears, and she asked her brother about them once, but he became sad and withdrawn so she refrained from speaking about it again. Instead, she was raised by Kristoffer, which, if you asked her, was better than having parents. He was the best brother she could ever ask for, and the two of them became very close very quickly.
The two Cooper siblings spent practically all of their childhood at the Sullivan household with Nicholas, Samuel, and Lauren. It was during this time that Megan made her first friend - Lauren Sullivan - and the two girls became close enough that Megan considered her a sister. Previously, Megan had been shy and self-conscious, but Lauren drew her out of her shell, and the two were almost always seen together.
It was because of her close relationship to Lauren that the night of her friend's death left Megan so devastated. The months after the event are a blur to her, and all she remembers when thinking about them is the numbness, the lack of feeling. And also, the thought that she never wanted to become close to anyone again, because then they might end up disappearing, too.
And a year later, Megan, Kristoffer, and the Sullivan brothers opened up a Private Investigation company, solving paranormal crimes and hoping to find and destroy the creature that killed Lauren.
Roleplay Sample:
The wind was a soft, tender whisper through the night, brushing the young girl's cheek softly in passing. It came from the south, where the river lay, undisturbed in the darkness of the night, and went towards the north, toward which the small girl faced at the moment. Her dark hair blew lightly in the wind, the darkness bringing out its amethyst tints, and she raised a hand to push the strands back, only for them to be blown back onto her face. Bright violet eyes grazed over the layout of land that lay so peacefully below her, passing over each of the headstones the jutted out of the land in arranged order -- rows and rows of headstones beneath which hundreds, or perhaps thousands, of motionless bodies lay, with their unseeing eyes and still hands. So many beings gathered in this one spot... yet, none of them would ever again see day.
It was curious how Mirany had picked this particular night to visit the cemetery. It was far from a perfect night -- sure, there were stars glittering high in the sky with a sparkling radiance, curled in ribbons around the bright sliver of the waning crescent that was the moon. The breeze was neither strong nor cold, but carried a certain touch of potential energy, as if something great would happen on this night -- as if it needed to prepare itself. The sky itself was a dark curtain of velvety black, stars littered across its surface. Yet, everything was far from perfect, for the natural beauty of the night was hidden behind haze of clouds, and a mist had settled around the surface of the cemetery, causing the passing light of the moon to bathe everything in an eerie glowing light. So, why was it that the young girl had chosen such a creepy night to visit a place so depressing?
Even she herself knew not.
The night was calm, the quiet stillness and silence enveloping the vicinity of soul-less bodies, not with a serene sense of security, but with a smothering restlessnes -- as if something were going to happen, and the late night fog had done the perfect job of setting the scene. The moon and stars allowed just enough light for Mirany to see where she was going, but more would have been appreciated. And, despite the spectral quality of the night, it was a rare night -- rare because the light pollution from the nearby city of Tokyo didn't disturb the darkness of the night with its hazy fumes. No, the mist and clouds did that job just fine without help from the light pollution.
So, on a night so macabre, why would a small girl who usually disliked the night go to visit the cemetery on such a night? There was no reason for it: she had never known anyone who was now deceased -- well, anyone whom she had actually known. But maybe she had just felt the need to, or maybe she just needed to get out of the house, and this was the first place she went to.
Even if it was an eerie night full of potential horrors, and even if Mirany hadn't ever known her mother before she had passed away, she left her spot at the top of the hill on whose side the tombstones were placed, and traveled down the rows, picking up a small petunia that had struggled to grow between some bushes. Her mid-calf length pink boots made a small tap with each step she took, and the wind rustled the many gossamer layers of the white knee-length skirt she wore, until she finally stopped in front of one particular headstone -- one on which the name of her mother was inscribed.
Mirany knelt, placed the yellow flower in front of the headstone, and read the words that were engraved into it. They were words that she had read so many times that she had probably had them memorized by now. She had never personally known her mother, but now that she was gone, there was nothing Mirany could do about that, except honor her with a small petunia. Just a small flower for the life that that woman had given Mirany -- it seemed like a terribly selfish trade to Mirany. But, there was just nothing more she could do. Perhaps leaving the house in the dead of the night on a particularly eerie night would count for something.
Speaking of particularly eerie, just as the small Kurosaki girl stood up to leave, a cacophony of screams split through the air, and Mirany tensed, spinning around to face the direction from which it had come. Heart pounding in her throat, the small girl spun towards where it had come from and started running in that direction, acting purely on impulse, for there was nothing she could possible do were she to find some sort of monster there. Her curiosity only grew when a group of kids around her age ran from that direction, expressions of fear on their face, and along with it, Mirany's own fear grew. But she wasn't thinking, so she wasn't exactly aware of it at the moment.
She had reached the top of the hill by the time she stopped to catch her breath, but by then, the sound of the screams were far behind her, newly replaced by the caws of a flock of black birds leaving the area; Mirany shielded herself against them as they flew into the direction from which she had come, raising her forearms against their flurry of ebony feathers. And when they cleared up, the only thing left in their wake was a boy, sitting on the ground, staring at spot from which they had come. Mirany didn't know what she was doing as she walked over to him and held out a small hand to help him up -- for all she knew, he could have been the monster that had caused the previous clamor of shrieks and retreating ravens. But she wasn't one of judge, so, with her hand outstretched to him, she asked in a quiet voice, afraid of disturbing the sudden stillness of the night, "Are you all right?"
It was curious how Mirany had picked this particular night to visit the cemetery. It was far from a perfect night -- sure, there were stars glittering high in the sky with a sparkling radiance, curled in ribbons around the bright sliver of the waning crescent that was the moon. The breeze was neither strong nor cold, but carried a certain touch of potential energy, as if something great would happen on this night -- as if it needed to prepare itself. The sky itself was a dark curtain of velvety black, stars littered across its surface. Yet, everything was far from perfect, for the natural beauty of the night was hidden behind haze of clouds, and a mist had settled around the surface of the cemetery, causing the passing light of the moon to bathe everything in an eerie glowing light. So, why was it that the young girl had chosen such a creepy night to visit a place so depressing?
Even she herself knew not.
The night was calm, the quiet stillness and silence enveloping the vicinity of soul-less bodies, not with a serene sense of security, but with a smothering restlessnes -- as if something were going to happen, and the late night fog had done the perfect job of setting the scene. The moon and stars allowed just enough light for Mirany to see where she was going, but more would have been appreciated. And, despite the spectral quality of the night, it was a rare night -- rare because the light pollution from the nearby city of Tokyo didn't disturb the darkness of the night with its hazy fumes. No, the mist and clouds did that job just fine without help from the light pollution.
So, on a night so macabre, why would a small girl who usually disliked the night go to visit the cemetery on such a night? There was no reason for it: she had never known anyone who was now deceased -- well, anyone whom she had actually known. But maybe she had just felt the need to, or maybe she just needed to get out of the house, and this was the first place she went to.
Even if it was an eerie night full of potential horrors, and even if Mirany hadn't ever known her mother before she had passed away, she left her spot at the top of the hill on whose side the tombstones were placed, and traveled down the rows, picking up a small petunia that had struggled to grow between some bushes. Her mid-calf length pink boots made a small tap with each step she took, and the wind rustled the many gossamer layers of the white knee-length skirt she wore, until she finally stopped in front of one particular headstone -- one on which the name of her mother was inscribed.
Mirany knelt, placed the yellow flower in front of the headstone, and read the words that were engraved into it. They were words that she had read so many times that she had probably had them memorized by now. She had never personally known her mother, but now that she was gone, there was nothing Mirany could do about that, except honor her with a small petunia. Just a small flower for the life that that woman had given Mirany -- it seemed like a terribly selfish trade to Mirany. But, there was just nothing more she could do. Perhaps leaving the house in the dead of the night on a particularly eerie night would count for something.
Speaking of particularly eerie, just as the small Kurosaki girl stood up to leave, a cacophony of screams split through the air, and Mirany tensed, spinning around to face the direction from which it had come. Heart pounding in her throat, the small girl spun towards where it had come from and started running in that direction, acting purely on impulse, for there was nothing she could possible do were she to find some sort of monster there. Her curiosity only grew when a group of kids around her age ran from that direction, expressions of fear on their face, and along with it, Mirany's own fear grew. But she wasn't thinking, so she wasn't exactly aware of it at the moment.
She had reached the top of the hill by the time she stopped to catch her breath, but by then, the sound of the screams were far behind her, newly replaced by the caws of a flock of black birds leaving the area; Mirany shielded herself against them as they flew into the direction from which she had come, raising her forearms against their flurry of ebony feathers. And when they cleared up, the only thing left in their wake was a boy, sitting on the ground, staring at spot from which they had come. Mirany didn't know what she was doing as she walked over to him and held out a small hand to help him up -- for all she knew, he could have been the monster that had caused the previous clamor of shrieks and retreating ravens. But she wasn't one of judge, so, with her hand outstretched to him, she asked in a quiet voice, afraid of disturbing the sudden stillness of the night, "Are you all right?"
Name/Alias: Pinky
Age: seventeen
Roleplay Experience: about six or seven years
Where did you find us?: an ad somewhere
Do you have any other characters?: not yetttttt.
Anything Else?: this site looks super-fun; can't wait to rp! =D
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