Post by Aryn Valcoph on Apr 27, 2007 1:48:58 GMT 1
{ Basic Information }[/i]
Name- Aryn Cordina Valcoph
Age- 17
D.O.B.- January 15, 1990
Height- 5'8”
Weight- 129 lbs
Grade Level- 11th, Junior
{ Family Information }[/i]
Father[/u]
Name- Stephen Erik Valcoph
Ethnicity- German descent.
Nationality- American
Mother
Name- Caterina Marie Bisset
Ethnicity- French [Basque Region]
Nationality- American
{ Appearance }[/i]
Current Picture...Plus Bike
Two Years Ago, Having fun with the Fender ^^
Build- Slim yet rather athletic, Aryn has participated in a few sports that spanned no longer than a year at any given time due to her family's lifestyle, examples being soccer and gymnastics. She has lean muscle, making her her father’s choice to train. Despite the muscle she does have, she still has a feminine figure.
Eye colour- Green with soft, golden brown flecks near the pupils. [(Recently she's adopted the idea of using colour contacts, so her eyes are brown when she uses them.)]
Hair- Due to hair-dye “problems”…A remarkably striking and bold brown, a rich, chocolate tone with even darker brown lowlights throughout it. Her hair does NOT appear black, despite what some might think. It’s BROWN. (Natural colour a light, honeyed shade of brown)
{ Miscellaneous Character Information }[/i]
Personality- Sharp. That’s a base word to describe Aryn. A girl who is unafraid of voicing her opinion...most times bluntly. A headstrong girl, she’s not exactly the type to listen to rules all the time, but she doesn’t go out of her way to be a troublemaker. Bold – perhaps a bit too much, at that – and brash, she’s not nervous about taking a risk...or two...or several.
She's alluring and intriguing. She knows how to play her cards and she knows how to tempt people enough to make them want more. She has a distinguishing, sarcastic wit to her that most cannot match. If she were to play mind games with anyone, she would more than likely win. She has a good head on her shoulders and knows how to separate business and pleasure, rarely mixing the two together...though the definition of “rarely” can be debated.
History-
What is it those imps called me? Oh, yeah, 'Military brat'…
So, you wanna step in and see the life I’ve had? Fine, let’s go right ahead.
As you’ve guessed, I was born to a military family. This was, I’m told, during one of the ‘longer’ stops my mom and dad were given that lasted a grand ol’ two and a half years, that first half a year pretty much burnt off before I popped out and into the world. I was a baby, what else do you think I can tell ya?
When I was two years old, my folks and I were shipped off to…'Ass-end-of-Nowhere' Brooks, Alberta. At that tender age, it’s pretty safe to say I’m going by what the folks told me, and they didn’t tell me much else. Apparently I started walking, talking, all that fun stuff. YAY FOR ME!
Yeah, moving on…
How long we were there really isn’t all that important...because there’ve been so many other places...it just doesn’t matter all that much. Agreed? Good.
By the time I’d entered grade school, we had settled into yet another base, this time in New York. Anyhow, kid in school. Pretty fun, huh? I made friends, as little twerps are expected to do, and it was a ball...at least, until we had to move. Again.
What I recall of the next place...was rain. Lots. Of. Fucking. Rain. I don’t care how that movie, Braveheart puts it, but Scotland was one great big bag of wet. Overall, it wasn’t too bad, but I could have done without the bloody rain! Not to mention the dialect. A girl near eight years old, born and raised in North America, you get used to the accent. And then you’re thrown for a huge loop when suddenly...your entire language is English, but doesn’t seem to resemble it in the slightest. Needless to say, the move this time was one of the more enjoyable ones.
Nuremburg, or something like that, Germany. Next stop, please, while I try to figure out the damned language..! Not to mention lederhosen and schnitzel. Can’t they just call them shorts and sausages?! At least it didn’t rain all the time... Mom took it upon herself to home-school me, considering I couldn’t learn all of the language I needed to know to communicate efficiently. Needless to say, I learnt a bit of the language...had to...wasn’t that the funnest thing...EVER! Other than that, being home schooled was...okay, but not something I’d like to do again. My dad seemed to strike it lucky here, considering his background and all. My thoughts: Welcome to Nuremburg, Population: Soon to be NOT me!
And baaaaaaack to North America we come! Joy! I can UNDERSTAND these people!
Attitude time, and who could say otherwise? Puberty was like the a-bomb...both on my family and my ‘classmates.’ Nice I was not. Hot, yes. I was on fiiiiire with learning nifty things like playing electric guitar.
Anyway, it was around that time I started to develop this...well, let’s just say I wasn’t daddy’s girl anymore. It lasted...and it didn’t. Needless to say, whenever he had some free time, he was showing me things he’d learned from his years of service. How to look after myself and all that, in case of those lewd little boys and their wandering hands. I’ll give dad credit for that, he wasn’t going to berate me on breaking a guy’s fingers for where they were headin’ to. I bet he’s really worried that I haven’t yet broken any fingers...hehe. No, it’s been arms, legs...balls, you know, the regular, useful bits and pieces for guys. As well, it was about this time that I developed an interest for hair dye. A very...dangerous interest, at that. I assure you, there’s been several occasions I’ve had a professional have to undo my ‘creative’ streak. I mean, I didn’t know there was anything wrong with bright green highlights on black hair... (Imagine me pouting as I say this and you’ve got the whooooole picture.)
At fifteen, we arrived in Florida, settled for just under a year...and then we were shipped off to San Francisco, California. I was enrolled in Hircine High for my Sophomore year, and wouldn’t you know it..? I began to genuinely LIKE the place. I fit in well. Of course, for that year, things were peaceful...ish. And then the call came, you know, the one for duty and moving.
I was really a headstrong kid (can’t you tell already?!), and eventually, all this moving around had to get really old. As in, screaming-down-the-house-hissy-fit old. Let this be a warning to anyone wanting kids: you think you can handle them? Try handling an emotional, pissed-off, hormonal, sixteen year old girl intent on getting her way for an hour...and I can assure you, because that is me, you’ll discover there’s a whole other side to this, just like dad did. Can I insert a semi-smug look in here..?
I suppose at least daddy was nice enough to leave me a bit of cash, hence the crotch-rocket you might be lucky to see me on when I’m not in class. I don’t drive it around far, or often, because hell, here, I’m not quite legal to drive it just yet. I’m going through education to receive my license...and boy, if I wasn’t patient before, I am now. It’s one of the things I want badly. It’s my freedom. I call it my splurge of the year...as well as a bit of a guilt-buy, a laptop. A going away gift from the folks, you might say. I’m supposed to keep in touch...which means I’ll be emailing them...well, hopefully twice during the whole shebang’d semesters.
{ Strengths and Weaknesses }[/i]
Fighting Style- Military CQC (Close Quarter Combat); the base idea of which is simply the immobilization of your enemy, be it through take-downs, joint traps, or even a well-placed punch or kick to a vulnerable spot. There’s no dignity or honour in this style. After all, on a battlefield, the only thing you’re fighting for is your life at the bottom of things. On top of it, she’s also something of a brawler and improvises where necessary. Unafraid to pick up whatever may be next to her and use it as a weapon, despite her somewhat slight form, she’s a surprisingly good fighter.
Strengths- Due to her smaller frame, Aryn is quick on her feet, as well as with her blows. She may not be as fast as others, but her demeanour and style portray a very accurate image of her. She is a tough girl, not likely to flutter her hands and smack her opponent at the first sign of an incoming punch. Considering the slightness of her frame, coupled with her natural flexibility, she’s also surprisingly agile as well. Combine this with simple, quick attacks, serving solely to quickly finish her opponent off, and you have a force to be reckoned with. Really, girl or not, she will kick your ass.
Weaknesses- To put it bluntly? Physically, she can be overpowered, remarkably easily. She’s strong for a girl, and capable of standing up against a guy with a far better chance, but when push comes to shove, her muscles aren’t going to be able to stand up to the more solidly-built fighters. Her strikes as a whole, unless she goes for a genuine vulnerable spot (eyes, crotch, throat, main veins and arteries), aren’t going to do too much damage. Considering her “training” is simply CQC, her move range is pretty simplistic as well. She isn’t going to try for huge kicks, unless she could guarantee it would hit, nor can she do an extremely elaborate take-down.
Name- Aryn Cordina Valcoph
Age- 17
D.O.B.- January 15, 1990
Height- 5'8”
Weight- 129 lbs
Grade Level- 11th, Junior
{ Family Information }[/i]
Father[/u]
Name- Stephen Erik Valcoph
Ethnicity- German descent.
Nationality- American
Mother
Name- Caterina Marie Bisset
Ethnicity- French [Basque Region]
Nationality- American
{ Appearance }[/i]
Current Picture...Plus Bike
Two Years Ago, Having fun with the Fender ^^
Build- Slim yet rather athletic, Aryn has participated in a few sports that spanned no longer than a year at any given time due to her family's lifestyle, examples being soccer and gymnastics. She has lean muscle, making her her father’s choice to train. Despite the muscle she does have, she still has a feminine figure.
Eye colour- Green with soft, golden brown flecks near the pupils. [(Recently she's adopted the idea of using colour contacts, so her eyes are brown when she uses them.)]
Hair- Due to hair-dye “problems”…A remarkably striking and bold brown, a rich, chocolate tone with even darker brown lowlights throughout it. Her hair does NOT appear black, despite what some might think. It’s BROWN. (Natural colour a light, honeyed shade of brown)
{ Miscellaneous Character Information }[/i]
Personality- Sharp. That’s a base word to describe Aryn. A girl who is unafraid of voicing her opinion...most times bluntly. A headstrong girl, she’s not exactly the type to listen to rules all the time, but she doesn’t go out of her way to be a troublemaker. Bold – perhaps a bit too much, at that – and brash, she’s not nervous about taking a risk...or two...or several.
She's alluring and intriguing. She knows how to play her cards and she knows how to tempt people enough to make them want more. She has a distinguishing, sarcastic wit to her that most cannot match. If she were to play mind games with anyone, she would more than likely win. She has a good head on her shoulders and knows how to separate business and pleasure, rarely mixing the two together...though the definition of “rarely” can be debated.
History-
What is it those imps called me? Oh, yeah, 'Military brat'…
So, you wanna step in and see the life I’ve had? Fine, let’s go right ahead.
As you’ve guessed, I was born to a military family. This was, I’m told, during one of the ‘longer’ stops my mom and dad were given that lasted a grand ol’ two and a half years, that first half a year pretty much burnt off before I popped out and into the world. I was a baby, what else do you think I can tell ya?
When I was two years old, my folks and I were shipped off to…'Ass-end-of-Nowhere' Brooks, Alberta. At that tender age, it’s pretty safe to say I’m going by what the folks told me, and they didn’t tell me much else. Apparently I started walking, talking, all that fun stuff. YAY FOR ME!
Yeah, moving on…
How long we were there really isn’t all that important...because there’ve been so many other places...it just doesn’t matter all that much. Agreed? Good.
By the time I’d entered grade school, we had settled into yet another base, this time in New York. Anyhow, kid in school. Pretty fun, huh? I made friends, as little twerps are expected to do, and it was a ball...at least, until we had to move. Again.
What I recall of the next place...was rain. Lots. Of. Fucking. Rain. I don’t care how that movie, Braveheart puts it, but Scotland was one great big bag of wet. Overall, it wasn’t too bad, but I could have done without the bloody rain! Not to mention the dialect. A girl near eight years old, born and raised in North America, you get used to the accent. And then you’re thrown for a huge loop when suddenly...your entire language is English, but doesn’t seem to resemble it in the slightest. Needless to say, the move this time was one of the more enjoyable ones.
Nuremburg, or something like that, Germany. Next stop, please, while I try to figure out the damned language..! Not to mention lederhosen and schnitzel. Can’t they just call them shorts and sausages?! At least it didn’t rain all the time... Mom took it upon herself to home-school me, considering I couldn’t learn all of the language I needed to know to communicate efficiently. Needless to say, I learnt a bit of the language...had to...wasn’t that the funnest thing...EVER! Other than that, being home schooled was...okay, but not something I’d like to do again. My dad seemed to strike it lucky here, considering his background and all. My thoughts: Welcome to Nuremburg, Population: Soon to be NOT me!
And baaaaaaack to North America we come! Joy! I can UNDERSTAND these people!
Attitude time, and who could say otherwise? Puberty was like the a-bomb...both on my family and my ‘classmates.’ Nice I was not. Hot, yes. I was on fiiiiire with learning nifty things like playing electric guitar.
Anyway, it was around that time I started to develop this...well, let’s just say I wasn’t daddy’s girl anymore. It lasted...and it didn’t. Needless to say, whenever he had some free time, he was showing me things he’d learned from his years of service. How to look after myself and all that, in case of those lewd little boys and their wandering hands. I’ll give dad credit for that, he wasn’t going to berate me on breaking a guy’s fingers for where they were headin’ to. I bet he’s really worried that I haven’t yet broken any fingers...hehe. No, it’s been arms, legs...balls, you know, the regular, useful bits and pieces for guys. As well, it was about this time that I developed an interest for hair dye. A very...dangerous interest, at that. I assure you, there’s been several occasions I’ve had a professional have to undo my ‘creative’ streak. I mean, I didn’t know there was anything wrong with bright green highlights on black hair... (Imagine me pouting as I say this and you’ve got the whooooole picture.)
At fifteen, we arrived in Florida, settled for just under a year...and then we were shipped off to San Francisco, California. I was enrolled in Hircine High for my Sophomore year, and wouldn’t you know it..? I began to genuinely LIKE the place. I fit in well. Of course, for that year, things were peaceful...ish. And then the call came, you know, the one for duty and moving.
I was really a headstrong kid (can’t you tell already?!), and eventually, all this moving around had to get really old. As in, screaming-down-the-house-hissy-fit old. Let this be a warning to anyone wanting kids: you think you can handle them? Try handling an emotional, pissed-off, hormonal, sixteen year old girl intent on getting her way for an hour...and I can assure you, because that is me, you’ll discover there’s a whole other side to this, just like dad did. Can I insert a semi-smug look in here..?
I suppose at least daddy was nice enough to leave me a bit of cash, hence the crotch-rocket you might be lucky to see me on when I’m not in class. I don’t drive it around far, or often, because hell, here, I’m not quite legal to drive it just yet. I’m going through education to receive my license...and boy, if I wasn’t patient before, I am now. It’s one of the things I want badly. It’s my freedom. I call it my splurge of the year...as well as a bit of a guilt-buy, a laptop. A going away gift from the folks, you might say. I’m supposed to keep in touch...which means I’ll be emailing them...well, hopefully twice during the whole shebang’d semesters.
{ Strengths and Weaknesses }[/i]
Fighting Style- Military CQC (Close Quarter Combat); the base idea of which is simply the immobilization of your enemy, be it through take-downs, joint traps, or even a well-placed punch or kick to a vulnerable spot. There’s no dignity or honour in this style. After all, on a battlefield, the only thing you’re fighting for is your life at the bottom of things. On top of it, she’s also something of a brawler and improvises where necessary. Unafraid to pick up whatever may be next to her and use it as a weapon, despite her somewhat slight form, she’s a surprisingly good fighter.
Strengths- Due to her smaller frame, Aryn is quick on her feet, as well as with her blows. She may not be as fast as others, but her demeanour and style portray a very accurate image of her. She is a tough girl, not likely to flutter her hands and smack her opponent at the first sign of an incoming punch. Considering the slightness of her frame, coupled with her natural flexibility, she’s also surprisingly agile as well. Combine this with simple, quick attacks, serving solely to quickly finish her opponent off, and you have a force to be reckoned with. Really, girl or not, she will kick your ass.
Weaknesses- To put it bluntly? Physically, she can be overpowered, remarkably easily. She’s strong for a girl, and capable of standing up against a guy with a far better chance, but when push comes to shove, her muscles aren’t going to be able to stand up to the more solidly-built fighters. Her strikes as a whole, unless she goes for a genuine vulnerable spot (eyes, crotch, throat, main veins and arteries), aren’t going to do too much damage. Considering her “training” is simply CQC, her move range is pretty simplistic as well. She isn’t going to try for huge kicks, unless she could guarantee it would hit, nor can she do an extremely elaborate take-down.
