Post by Corliss Makwa on Apr 27, 2009 22:54:02 GMT -5
"I'm just Human!"
Name: Corliss Gallows Makwa
Age: 25
Sex: Female
Location: La Push, Makwa residence
"Don't look at me like that!"
Face Claim: Zooey D.
Appearance: Being New England born and raised, it seems that the sun can never get a chance from behind the clouds. Her skin is pale, but far from perfect. Marred with freckles, small pox marks from a childhood sickness, and scars from just life she gives the appearance of a well worn New Englander. Her hair is a common chestnut brown, with very little damage done to it from over styling. In fact she rarely ever uses products within it. Currently cut in a shoulder length complete with bangs, she tends to hold it back from her face with a bandanna or headband. Her eyes are sea-foam green, and rather large for her face giving her a younger appearance then her true age.
Corliss's frame is rather small and sturdy, but it takes more then a breeze to knock her over. Coming from the north she is used to weather in the negatives, and also the hot heats of the summer. Seeing the weather always changes, she is commonly seen with layers on, that way she could always strip down if needed. A gray thermal topped with a graphic tee and sweatshirt, and paired with jeans or even cargo shorts. She tends to lean twords bright colors like yellows, oranges. Comfort rather then style is her motto. Most of her clothing is well worn, but she has her small stash of 'nice' clothing for those occasions.
"What dose it matter to you?!"
Personality: Corliss is a simple girl. She comes from a basic life, with little to no excitement within it. That being said she is resistant to change, and likes the nice comforts of home and the predictable. She is a nice girl, who just has a issue with letting her mouth run. Not shy in the least, Corliss will strike a conversation with anyone. From the homeless man on the streets to the smallest child. She just loves to talk and hear others thoughts on things. Always having her heart on her sleeve, she is the type who will say everything and anything in her mind, and never keep things hidden. To her there is no point in it. It takes a bit to get her angry, but when she is upset she wont let it go.Corliss holds grudes really easily, one bad service at a resturant and she wont go again. One horrible haircut, and she resolves to cut her own. She's not a perfectionist by far, but she likes to have things 'as exspected'. Corliss's personality is energetic, aggressive and assertive. She always has something to talk about, and is never one to play shy. She tends to be more upfront with 'cute guys' seeing she's rather tired of being dragged around, and hates being strung. Due to her 'curse' of being always the -little sister- and never girlfriend, she tries her damnest to not get attached to any male friend's that she has or makes, knowing very well that it leads to broken hearts, and even worse tarnished frienships.
But everything seemed to change when she came across Zak within the woods that night. Love at first sight, she now is open to more things, and is less resistant to change.
Likes:
Graveyards
Abandoned Buildings
Forgotten Roads
History
Ghost Stories
Historical Myths and Tales
Driving
Writing
Taking Pictures with her Digital Camera
Beachs
Ghost Hunting
Wolves
Wood Walks
Sleeping beside Zak
Dislikes:
Alarm Clocks
Rude People
Traffic
Overly Sunny Days
Self Centered People
Grammer Nazi's
History: Corliss was born the only daughter to Kathy and Thomas Gallows. She was born in Kent Country Hospital, and until reaching the age of 18 was never more then 30 miles from her birthplace. Growing up in RI, she was almost always at the beach, or doing something by the miles of Ocean that hug the state. Her mother worked at the Newport Mansions, as a tour guide in the tourist season. Corliss grew her affection for the history of the state from her mouth, and the countless stories that she would hear from the older residents of the rich town. Her father Thomas was a toll booth collector for the Newport tolls, and also had his own collection of stories for the young girl. Seeing how much she enjoyed history her parents took her to all of the areas of RI that held any amount of history or a interesting past. It was when they came to the 'Vampires Grave' Mercy Brown, Corliss found her real passion. The History of the dead. As she got older she became obsessed with the ghost stories and myths of her small state, in particular those of the Narragansett Indian Tribe, and that of the 'Vampire' plague that seemed to happened in the 1890's of RI's history.
When she went to URI, she majored in History of course, and paranormal studies on the side. She soon got a small job with T. A. P. S, the local team of Ghost hunters, and also helped in the writing of the book 'Weird New England'. During her time working with T.A P. S , she realized that there seemed to be traces of vampire myths and legends across the US. Already having the experience of working on one book, she decided to track across the U.S to write her own book about vampire legends and other creature myths. She started of course in New England, and traveled across the heart of the U.S until reaching one of her final destinations, Washington. Currently she is staying at a small Bed and Breakfast in Forks, and is gathering information from locals. She also has a interesting in going to the Reservation to get a telling of the Quileute legends.
Corliss's life changed drasticly when one night she was walking within the woods, and walked right into a Quileute legend, Zakel Makwa. Secrets were exsposed, and true ever lasting love was formed. The couple married not too long after meeting, and happily live within Zak's home in La Push.
"Say what you want I'm not changing!"
Role Play Example: The sleepless night did nothing to amuse her, neither did the hours of being on hold with a crappy cell phone signal as her appointments did everything to avoid her. Why did they even bother setting them if they didn't want the story told? It was nothing but a irritating situation. She could never understand why people would agree to tell the tale of a ghost or even worse, a vampire encounter and then back out. What was there to be scared of? Nothing. It was all just stories. Looking out the window, she had a better idea. Anything to break away and clear her head. What could be better then a rainstorm and a gray day? The rain would wash away any thoughts and disappointment, and the gray sky would keep her grounded, in the moment. Clipping her wings, Corliss threw on a pair of jeans, jumping around the wicker room as she pulled them on and dug through her duffel bag for a thermal top, sweatshirt, and her bright yellow vest. She knew she was going to get wet, but wasn't that what the rain was for? A black baseball cap was pulled down upon her head, her hair pulled back into a messy pony tail as she slipped her yellow rain boots on and out the door.
Her digital camera was in hand, protected by a plastic hard case for days like this. Corliss wasn't obsessed with taking pictures, but with over ten memory cards filled with images one could say differently. Some things she didn't want to forget, other things she did. Looking through some of the newest images, the faces of her 'friends' back home appeared on the screen. Scott and Diego. Two fellow 'ghost hunter' friends making the stupidest face in the camera possible. Corliss felt a slight tug within her chest looking at the image, memories good, and bad washing to the surface as her sea-foam eyes focused on Scott's face. "Idiot.." She muttered. Feeling rather stupid, and pathetic Corliss tried to cheer herself up by walking from the inn.
The rain wasn't heavily pouring down, just enough to annoy most people. She could warm easily, and clothes dried, so it wasn't so bad. In fact she preferred the rain, it kept most others away and let her with the world as it should be. Quiet, peaceful. The woods seemed to be a obstacle course of death to navigate, but she climbed over the nearest stone wall and decided to get lost for a afternoon. Her phone had a GPS on it if she got -really- lost, but she had a good head on her shoulders and the uncanny ability to get herself out of trouble. Lifting her camera, she clicked away a few pictures of the rain soaked woods, taking notice of the small beams of light that cut across the growing darkness of the forest around her. The flash caught the raindrops, making it seem like the forest was attacked by a teeny bopper with a fetish for glitter.
Holding the camera down, she scrolled through the images, deleting the ones that didn't tickle her fancy, and keeping the ones that seemed to capture this moment best of all. Grey, with just a streak of hope for brighter things. Sighing the tourist muttered to herself.
"Things keep up this way..its going to be a short stay...." Yes the forest was beautiful and breathtaking, but how many times could she tromp around the woods and wait for her appointments to get cleared? If she wasn't so stubborn, she would have turned around and headed home by now.
Walking a bit further into the thickened woods, the sight of a moss covered stone wall caught her attention. Sure a stone wall was common in New England, the land used to be divided by them. But she wasn't too certain of the history of Forks, so it was worth a look. Careful to avoid the slippery rocks, the girl walked closer to the stone wall, soon seeing the rusted iron gate that shielded those unwanted out. It looked to be a old stone pen, common place for keeping wild livestock that was loose until the owner picked them up. But this held something different. Within the stone walls were graves, older then most she had ever seen before.
Her breath caught within her throat, soft green eyes roaming over the forgotten cemetery in awe. The hair upon the back of her neck stood, just as her hands wrapped around the old rusted metal gate. It was easy enough to move, but the screaming of protest from the metal rang in her ears loudly. A small sliver of rusted metal sliced her palm as she drew it away, ignoring the dull stinging pain as she slipped within the small cemetery.
