Post by Laila Roshan on Jun 27, 2009 20:09:20 GMT -5
i n t r o d u c i n g . . .
Laila Parvathi Roshan ///
[/size][/i]Full Name~ Laila Parvathi Roshan
Gender~ Female
Age~ Twenty-five
Birthdate~ 21 December (Sagittarius)
Location~ Phoenix, Arizona
Faction~ The Archivists
Celebrity Claim~ Tara Shakti
Play anyone else?~ Lucas, Naomi, Brian, Caroline
m i n d . . .
what's in my head?
/// SPECIAL ABILITY
Laila, using her gift of psycholocation, can detect most everything around herself. From the epicenter in her brain, millions of harmless thought waves are constantly sent in a gigantic dome stretching some fifty feet around her in every direction, giving her a basic map of every tangible object inside the area. Thus, even with her eyes closed and her back turned, she could sense an approaching person well before they arrive.
Psychic interference, affecting other living beings, can take place when she purposely changes the output of her own brain waves. Indiscriminately, this causes the subjects to feel as though their thoughts were scrambled, since their brain patterns are receiving erratic and unfamiliar signals coming from Laila herself. This could afflict them with feelings similar to dizziness or misdirection.
Psychic interference, affecting other living beings, can take place when she purposely changes the output of her own brain waves. Indiscriminately, this causes the subjects to feel as though their thoughts were scrambled, since their brain patterns are receiving erratic and unfamiliar signals coming from Laila herself. This could afflict them with feelings similar to dizziness or misdirection.
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/// ABILITY LIMITS
Foremost, the power can only sense shape and movement, not by any means color or light. With this restriction placed, it limits her from seeing some of the finer details around her. While this makes illusions useless, one could still fool her into sensing nonexistent things in her presence if they were to use an ability geared toward mental manipulation.
These powers are always at work, which sometimes proves very difficult for Laila's brain. Large crowds can be very distracting, and although she has known about this power for ten years, she still feels difficulty paying attention when many things are surrounding her.
Her powers limit significantly during an unconscious state, dropping down to a field one-tenth of the original size, though the perpetuation of the ability still grants heightened awareness that could jar her from slumber. Thanks to her living arrangements, this causes her to wake up through the night often, and to sleep less hours than she would prefer.
Such things as windows and glass doors, while she may use her sense of sight to see out of them, are effective barriers to her power, for her thought waves cannot travel through solid matter. Since the flow of her psycholocative dome is very much like light, walls and corners sometimes also hamper her field of detection similar to how the corner into dark alley blocks the shine of a streetlamp at night.
When she interferes with brain waves, she has no control over some aspects, such as how she cannot increase or decrease the magnitude of this effect. It strikes without care to its target, and every living creature within the zone would feel the effect without exception. If one knew what to expect from her powers, however, they could overcome this problem with little trouble, leaving Laila with few other options than to escape.
These powers are always at work, which sometimes proves very difficult for Laila's brain. Large crowds can be very distracting, and although she has known about this power for ten years, she still feels difficulty paying attention when many things are surrounding her.
Her powers limit significantly during an unconscious state, dropping down to a field one-tenth of the original size, though the perpetuation of the ability still grants heightened awareness that could jar her from slumber. Thanks to her living arrangements, this causes her to wake up through the night often, and to sleep less hours than she would prefer.
Such things as windows and glass doors, while she may use her sense of sight to see out of them, are effective barriers to her power, for her thought waves cannot travel through solid matter. Since the flow of her psycholocative dome is very much like light, walls and corners sometimes also hamper her field of detection similar to how the corner into dark alley blocks the shine of a streetlamp at night.
When she interferes with brain waves, she has no control over some aspects, such as how she cannot increase or decrease the magnitude of this effect. It strikes without care to its target, and every living creature within the zone would feel the effect without exception. If one knew what to expect from her powers, however, they could overcome this problem with little trouble, leaving Laila with few other options than to escape.
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/// PERSONALITY
Living by a personal mantra that life is a journey and not a destination, Laila's personality tends to revolve around such ideals. Her patience borders on endless, and because she thinks of each day as its own unique adventure, boredom never really shows up in her life. Contentment works as another key trait within her, and, never a victim to stress, she keeps superb control over her emotions. She would never raise a finger so as to start commotions, since a proverbial atmosphere glowing with calmness and congeniality is one she enjoys the most.
Since she lives at her own pace, so to speak, she has consequently developed a few inconsiderate habits. She procrastinates like mad, and when rushed into things, she tends to go against the grain in her own subtle ways. In this instance, Laila might not lose her bearings in the way one might expect, but a more rigid and stubborn attitude would certainly take place. She views few things with urgency, and cannot typically be trusted to, for instance, arrive exactly on time for any given reason. On some level does she expect people to know that her time is hers to waste, yet she very much respects that other people can be dawdle just as much. She thinks she can predict what kind of woman she would be if she lived quickly and was piled with stress, and thereby never wants to subject anyone to the sort of aloof temperament she might show in that case.
She may temporarily bear ill feelings toward certain folks, but Laila feels that preconceived notions are pitifully stupid and tries her best not to judge anyone. Knowing there are countless reasons why people act the way they do, Laila avoids the whole confusing system of judging or anticipating peoples' qualities, instead receiving people with a very simple and humble outlook. This sets her up to seem like something of a pushover, looking past most serious offenses geared her way and sometimes forgetting common traits that a friend might display, but she prefers to go easy on her mind by not overexamining people. However, with good reason, these notions cannot stop Laila from casually observing the things done by people around her, simply to stay aware of her environment-- so she says.
On another hand, there are odd times where she takes ahold of things for her own benefit. Her relations with other people are ambivalent, and though she enjoys making and keeping friends, she believes she cannot do a thing to change other people and thus would never try. If (for whatever reason) a longtime friend of hers decided they no longer liked her, Laila would effortlessly sever her ties with them and go on treating them like a nameless stranger on the street-- if she even chose to speak to them ever again after that. On a similar note, if she were faced with oppressive, burdensome, or harmful scenarios, she would remove herself from such places without fail. Laila may be quite social, but she knows exactly what kind of situations she wants to avoid.
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Likes~
- Relaxation
- Wide open spaces
- Cats
- Reality programs
- Tea
- Ginger
- Cabernet Sauvignon
- Chicken tikka masala
- Elaborate bouquets
- Mature men (partial to tallness and tattoos, as well)
Dislikes~
- Uptight people
- Stress
- Crowded rooms
- Hard liquor
- Bland foods (tofu, oatmeal, etc.)
- Barbecue sauce
- Country music
- Most sports
- Staying up late (past midnight or one in the morning)
- Windy days
Strengths~
- Good conversationalist
- Resilient (calm under stress and quickly reverts to happiness)
- Patient
- Intuitive
- Gentle
Weaknesses~
- Procrastinates
- Usually tardy
- Somewhat restless (cannot sit or stand for too long)
- Chronic eavesdropper (worsened by her power)
- Generally puts her own concerns first
Skills~
- Educated in psychology (never got her degree, but gained some experience within The Archivists)
- Knows basic French and a tiny bit of Hindi
- Cooking
- Sewing
- Ballet (took lessons from second to sixth grade)
- Playing piano (and giving lessons)
- Reading sheet music
- Throwing people off her trail
Hobbies~
- Pampering her cats (Antoinette and Josephine)
- Piano
- Tennis
- Darts
- Aerobics (palates and yoga)
- Learning about different cultures
- Listening to the radio
Habits~
- Multitasks
- Bites her lower lip
- Paces when she needs to think
- Plays music for ambience (regardless of occasion)
Flaws~
- Poor circulation (extremities often feel cold and go numb after inactivity)
- Necrophobia
- Mild zoophobia (only with animals much larger than herself)
b o d y . . .
caught in your sights . . .
Age~ Twenty-five
Celebrity Claim~ Tara Shakti
Sexual Preference~ Heterosexual
Ethnicity~ ½ Indian (Punjabi), ½ Malagasy
Hair~ Dark brown
Eyes~ Dark brown
/// APPEARANCE
Laila's five foot, three inch body bears a svelte, womanly figure and a warm caramel complexion. An exotic look bestowed by her unique ethnic heritage starts with a pair of curved eyebrows upon her smoothly domed brow, and almond-shaped deep brown eyes with thick lashes. The round, flared nose in the middle of her face sits over large lips, and a wide jaw with a slightly cleft chin rests not far below. Her round face and soft features are framed by curtains of wavy hair colored like dark chocolate, which she straightens or curls to her heart's content.
Laila leans in favor of dressing in layers, with jackets or sweaters, but she follows necessity anyway, by dressing lighter when the temperature rises. Skirts varying in length and style are worn as often as jeans or slacks, but her overall style hints at a fondness for loose and flowing, feminine clothes. At the same time, the colors she chooses are bright and rich, usually the warm colors of a tropical sunset, like yellow or orange. She has moderate tastes in makeup, not too heavy or scarce, and as for accessories, she depends on her collection of earrings and necklaces.
s p i r i t . . .
this is where i come from . . .
Faction~ The Archivists
Birthplace~ Antananarivo, Madagascar
Mother~ Sibylle (Rabenala) Seck; age forty-three, civilian
Father~ Harish Roshan; deceased, special
Inebriative Empowerment
Siblings~ Deepak Roshan; age thirty, special (half-brother)
Psycholocation / Psychic Interference
Spouse~ N/A
Children~ N/A
Other Family~ Armand Seck; age forty-nine, civilian (stepfather)
/// HISTORY
Once upon a time, there was an extraordinarily strong dock worker, widowed from when a cyclone struck his oceanside village, who fell in love with a young woman that soon became his wife. She was a good mother figure to his young son from the previous marriage, and the family was humble and thankful despite their lack of money. However, the household was about to grow in number when the woman learned she was pregnant. Worried for their future, the young man made plans to move to another country, where economic opportunities were better. The baby was born and the family rejoiced, but in only a few months' time were they on their way to an American city called Minneapolis, Minnesota. The baby, a girl, was far too young to remember the trip that changed their lives. Her name was Laila.
The sweet girl loved her family, although times were hard in the beginning, when they fought to adjust. The man found work in construction, which allowed his wife to stay at home to raise Laila and her brother in their tiny apartment. Thinking it would help their children fit in, while bolstering their own language skills at the same time, the parents spoke English at home much more often than their native French, which became little trouble after the children had advanced a few grades in school. Laila herself, around her peers, faced many questions about her homeland, but having never set foot on the island, she made up utter nonsense and never told the same story about the country twice. For some this meant a creative girl to befriend, but for others it made her the crazy foreigner to avoid.
In a few years, their life started to run more smoothly. After saving their money and living simply, they could afford a house, citizenship was obtained, and the children were able to go ahead with their hobbies of choice. Laila foresaw stable normalcy, like she thought the other kids in school had. From there on, her only problem seemed to be how she was so painfully aware of everything in her midst, even when her eyes were closed or the lights were off. It interested her in theory, but in crowds, it gave her nausea and headaches way too often. For that reason alone did the teenaged Laila reluctantly keep herself from the public, because crowds made her feel sick. Fortunately, she got over it just in time to face the greatest tragedy of her young life.
One day they received reports that Harish Roshan, her father, had gone missing at his work site, and he remained that way for a week. The whole family worried terribly over these circumstances, often to the point of tears, but it ended when a police officer darkened their doorway one morning, telling them that the man's skeletonized body was buried in an alleyway dumpster. Facing the wrong kind of closure, tears were shed and terms were reached. Lest they lose their home, the family knew they had to find jobs-- except Deepak, her brother, who already worked at an electronics store in the Mall of America. This left fifteen-year-old Laila, who came to be a clerk at a music store, and Sibylle, their mother, who worked as a receptionist at a real estate office. There, the widow caught the eye of a man named Armand Seck, a wealthy benefactor and investor in the company.
It was love at first site, and the two were engaged to be married in less than a year. The two siblings faced the situation differently, Deepak feeling resentful while Laila tried her best not to interfere, despite the lack of control she felt had invaded her life. When Sibylle married for the second time, Deepak chose not to attend the wedding, and immediately moved away from their house. Laila, on the other hand, while still a minor, stuck around when she and her mother moved into Armand's spacious abode. She took her time learning to trust and respect her new stepfather, even though he was kind and loved Sibylle dearly. Perhaps to win her over, he even offered to pay Laila's way to any university she wanted, since he knew that was her first choice after graduation. She accepted, even though her decision to attend Princeton University would bring considerable distance between her and the family.
Contacting her family, which she had promised to do regularly, became something of a chore due to many factors. Not only were classes tough to keep up with, but her sharpened awareness was so distracting that she often sketched maps of the classroom instead of paying her full attention. Pressure was mounting, but she could often find a temporary fix blowing off steam at some trendy places on campus. Even one of her best friends, Miguel Famosa, seemed to understand her feelings well before her secret became known. In fact, it was Miguel himself who, on a starry night in a secluded park, told Laila just what she could do and how he knew. Apparently, he had been in contact with other superpowered persons, and he gave her an address where she might learn to understand herself better. In her sophomore year, after weeks of looking at the address and thinking over the decision every day, she decided to leave Princeton for Atlanta, Georgia. Sadly, Miguel was nowhere to be found on the day she decided to leave, and down to the present, she has had no further contact with him.
Her sudden drop from her educationary goals alienated her from her mother and stepfather who, although they were better people than to ask her to repay them, seldom returned her phone calls and overwhelmed her with shame. However, there were more angles to her life that needed to be understood, and Laila felt no need in burdening her family with the truth just yet. At that point, she had already involved herself with Professor Abraham Marlowe, a geneticist working for a local company, who agreed to run some tests on Laila. Boarding at his home with his family, she befriended his children, namely his son Seth, who fostered an attraction toward Laila that, going without confession, remained a good friendship and nothing else. Meanwhile, when more than a few questions were answered by the professor, Laila was grateful and decided she could move on.
There was more, though. Before she could go on to bigger and greater things (without having any set idea on where to travel, as opposed to just hopping into her car and driving off into the sunset), the professor told Laila about a man named Dorsey Drayman and his organization, The Archivists. Abraham himself was involved with these people, who he explained to Laila were nothing like the 'dangerous cult' as which the general public saw them, and of their works, which Laila largely saw as good and noble. She was wary to join and planned to leave if things turned strange, but ultimately, she decided it was good enough to stay. After a long chain of jobs that, at present, led to her conducting piano lessons, she could afford a small home with her two cats. Meanwhile, her education in psychology, though incomplete, could be put to good use helping other specials, whether for those inexperienced with their abilities or those troubled in mind.
c r e d e n t i a l s . . .
what do you bring to the party ?
/// PLAYER INFORMATION
Name or Alias~ Froggy
CBox Name~ FroggyNine
Contact Info~ PM or Cbox
Age~ Twenty-two
Years of RP Experience~ Eight
How Did You Find Us? I broke my finger when my car slid into the ditch, and this was the closest place with a payphone. You were even nice enough to give me a quarter so I could call the clinic.
/// SAMPLE RP
Antionette was sleeping on the sofa, Josephine beside her. Piled over each other like a pair of ragdolls, the twin Himalayan cats were quite content to lay serenely, as their cushioned seat was positioned just right for a midday nap in the sunbeam.
Laila smiled as she watched the two, while, in the other room across from the pair, she also sat before an upright wooden piano, beside a young girl about ten years of age. With the assurance of Laila's watching eyes, the girl with pigtails hestiantly practiced her scales. Across the piano's keys, she played in sequence, and pleasantly plinking notes resounded.
The cats must have found the intermittent music quite relaxing, Laila thought, or they would have moved. The girls could be fairly particular that way, when it came to undesirable sounds. However, they didn't bat an ear when the notes stopped.
"No, don't stop, Misha," Laila said, looking straight into pigtailed girl's deep brown eyes. "You were doing just fine. Keep at it, and remember...practice makes perfect." After she saw the girl's fingers make contact with the keys once again, Laila slowly slid off her seat and sauntered into the kitchen. The cupboard was opened and she took out a glass, which was put under the faucet and filled with cool tap water. Teaching piano lessons must have been thirsty work, in the true sense of the word.
While she was taking a rather generous drink from the glass, Laila heard what sounded like a rudimentary attempt at playing Für Elise, no doubt inspired by Laila's own work at the melody. It was in no way pathetic, but admirable. Laila couldn't help but let out a slight chuckle.
"Now," she settled down her glass on the counter, walking over toward the piano room, leaning in the doorway and watching. "Misha, where did you learn that song?" Laila said with a smile. The girl, on the other hand, seemed bashful, taking her hands off the keys quickly. Laila bit her bottom lip for a moment. "Sorry. I didn't mean you should stop," Laila slowly walked her way. "Please. Keep going like before."
Misha nodded and, when turning her back and heading to the kitchen, Laila heard the same tune attempted yet again. Laila was prepared to down the rest of her water, though a familiar sensation struck her, no doubt in part to the wide open window in her midst. Succumbing to curiosity, Laila walked over and saw a burgundy sedan pull over along the sidewalk.
"Laila, will you teach me to play that song better?" Misha inquired, sounding somewhat hopeful.
"Well," Laila rubbed her finger against her lower lip, still moist from the drink of water, "I would, but...your parents are back. It's time for to go home." Walking back to the piano bench, where the girl sat with her head drooped a bit, Laila knelt and smiled. "But we'll definitely do that next time."
Did you read the rules: ...I'll get back to you on that.