WINTER, DAKOTA FAITH

[DAKOTA FAITH WINTER]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 390px; border: 10px solid #1d1715; background-color: #e5e5e5] DAKOTA WINTER FULL NAME Dakota Faith Winter. NICKNAMES Kota, Kitten. GENDER Female. SEXUALITY Pansexual. AGE & DATE OF BIRTH Nineteen; June fifteenth. MEMBER GROUP High school student. ABILITY Shapeshifter. Form: Jaguar. OCCUPATION Part time waitress. FACE CLAIM Valerie Poxleitner. THE TRAITS Quiet, calculating, awkward, lonely, prone to being intransigent, animal lover, opinionated, reserved, intelligent, fragile, timid, poker face, suspicious, only child, secretive, guarded. THE STORY "The beginning always seems to be a good place to start a story, don't you? Well, my story doesn't start with me - instead, it traces back many, many years. I'm not quite sure where it actually started, really, but I know that my great-grandmother was a freak too, as was her husband, and their children, and their grandchildren - and now me, too. My great-grandfather was a soldier during World World II, a man of valor and persistence. he had something they're now calling illusionarykinesis, something relatively easy to hide in such a troubled time. His wife - like all of the girls in our family - was a shapeshifter. It passed down, this insane gene of immense power. Their kids - all girls - were all shapeshifters, though many grew sick and fragile and didn't make it into their teens. My grandmother was the only one to survive, and she eventually had a single child - my mother - though the means were... unorthodox. She raised my mother alone, up on the vast expanse of Alaska and Canada, moving as she saw fit. Once my mother was older, and realized scientific expeditions were her calling, she started begging grandmother to go to foreign lands. She refused, of course, until mother finally flew the coop after finishing university. She traveled everywhere, writing for scientific magazines, conducting research, and occasionally sleeping under bridges and washing her hair in McDonalds bathrooms. Eventually she realized that life was lonely when she couldn't make any friends - like me, she had next to no social skills - and decided that maybe having a baby would be a good idea. Because raising a baby while going to dangerous places is such a wonderful plan. She finally saved up enough money, though, and I was conceived via AI. How romantic. I made my unusually quiet appearance on June fifteenth in a hospital in Juneau, Alaska, and my mother sobbed as she held me. I wasn't supposed to be a girl. You see, girls in our family tend to have a really hard time, because we tend to have these powers of shifting. It is because of these powers my grandmother's siblings all died - but more on my messed up genes later. Anyway, she named me Dakota Faith Winter, and a few days later we were out of there - and everywhere else, really. We traveled and did odd jobs until she got a job leading expeditions when I was thirteen; and I was always with her, just in case, usually cleverly disguised as an assistant because hey, why not. It was on a trip in the farthest, apocalyptic-esque reaches of Alaska that I came into my 'inheritance', panicking when I tripped and fell twenty feet down a mountain, only for my body to burn with fever and contort in the most painful way possible. The next few weeks were a bloody haze. Mother had leaped down after me, and hid there until nightfall. We were declared missing, and mother - after dragging me home - cared for me through the tears and unstoppable pain as my body adjusted to it's newfound power. There were several instances where I felt like I would die, and several times that I screamed and cried and lashed out at her for bringing me into the world knowing what was going to happen. I emerged from my transformation changed - and not just physically. I grew suspicious, reserved; I couldn't trust her, or anyone else. I withheld information, becoming secretive, guarded, a sharp difference to before, when I'd tell her everything. I drifted away from her, and she drifted towards the bottle, and men, and nameless concoctions that leave a foul taste in my mouth. And when I was sixteen I ran, and ran, and eventually found Nevada." BEHIND THE MASK ALIAS Emily. AGE Sixteen - seventeen come Feb 22, 2012. ROLEPLAY EXPERIENCE Ten years. FOUND US Proboards support opinion board. CODE WORD admin edit OTHER CHARACTERS None. ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE his paws had long since gone numb, sheer relief from the throbbing pain that had accompanied him for many moons. icy eyes glanced behind him, at the bloody pawprints that had been burned into the ground - marking his journey, his soul. exhaustion claws at his limbs, burning and ice cold, fogging his mind and will to keep fighting. sharp bones cast a gaunt shadow across his stony features, sliding and shifting with every movement the behemoth made. his once proud, regal posture had disappeared, replaced by the broken shell, a mere phantom of the creature he once was. barren eyes raked over the landscape, taking in the soft grass and wide fields - farms, he noted, mind foggy and almost boggled - and the unmistakable rumble of the river he was following. he closed his weary eyes, willing the heavy sense of fatigue away - he couldn't rest yet, he hadn't found the fabled four clans of the forest, the clans of a hated legends. they could be fake, a small voice whispered from the chasms of his mind, mere figments of an old tale. he heart dropped, paws slipping out from under him as he collapsed, the unmistakable scent of fellow felines tickling his nose. no, no, no...

[/color] he chanted, the mantra bouncing and echoing in his empty mind, the pain and fatigue and the sheer, tingling numbness bleeding out into the waking world, the world spiraling from silver midnight to deathly shades of gray and black, before disappearing completely. soft voices, growing loud and harsh, sounded around him, drilling into his head, filling the space around him. the warm breath of a soft, dismal breeze stroked his fur; he shook - from effort, from exhaustion, from desperation and disappointment - and simply laid there, feeling as if he were decaying limb by limb - disintegrating into stardust, rising to the sky and falling back to earth.

he came out of his stupor hours later, blue eyes bright and pained. slowly he stood, shaking out his long fur, staggering dizzily. his state of half-sleep had awarded him with new energy, he learned, stumbling with ease down the riverbank - confused and weary still, but with renewed vigor. the scent he had assumed was imagined was becoming stronger, overwhelming his senses with the many same, but different tints. a small, hopeful ghost of a smile graced his lips as his white paws dug into the soft ground, picking up speed as he focused on the strange but familiar scent. breaths broke past his snowy muzzle in short, sharp pants as farmland gave way to the serene, prey filled terrain that could only be home to the wild creatures, the untamed masses. mere moments later he burst through the scent barrier, exploding into foreign territory; trespassing on what was obviously a clan's land.

a hysterical laugh bubbled in his chest, breaking past his lips as the bloodied sky stared down upon him, the sun slowly rising above the horizon. the brown tabby trembled with mirth, eyes sparkling as he gazed upon the land with delight.

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