Post by kris on Nov 19, 2011 19:23:32 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; height: 450px; padding: 10px; background-color: #202020; border-radius: 100%; -moz-border-radius-: 100%; -webkit-border-radius: 100%;] elizabeth williams pick me up, oh, from the bottom, up to the top, love, everyday, pay no mind to taunts or advances, i take my chances on everyday left to right, up and down, love i push up love, love everyday, jump in the mud, oh, get your hands dirty with, love it up on... MYNAMEIS: Elizabeth Anne Williams IAM: 21. BORNON: April 1st. SPECIES: Human. WHAT TYPE: ...the smartassed kind? =================================== PLAYEDBY: Alison Sudol. HEIGHT: 5'7". WEIGHT: 130 lbs. APPEARANCE: First, the basics; Lizzie stands at about five feet, seven inches high and weighs in at a ground-crushing one hundred and thirty pounds, although she looks like she weighs about ten pounds less thanks to muscle mass. Lithe thanks to an active lifestyle, her curves are present without being overblown - they're proportional, if a little on the smaller end of things. Pale skin that burns before it tans is paired with copper-colored and curly hair that reaches the middle of her back. It's only through about an hour's styling in the morning that it looks so sleek, with big curls that almost seem like waves - and all of that hard work can be undone with a single splash of water. Lizzie's eyes are bluish-gray in color. Whether it leans more toward one way or the other depends on the light and what color shirt she's wearing. Her nose is a bit on the smaller side when compared to her full lips, although she manages to be relatively pretty despite that. Two piercings in each ear and a small scar along her leg from a tussle with a rogue curling iron are the other distinguishing features to be found, although chances are good that she's got a small bruise here or there from life's many hazards. Comfort is the name of the game when it comes to her favored attire, what with how she spends all of her grooming energy on taming her curls and all. This usually means some sort of graphic t-shirt with either a smart-assed saying or some sort of vague artistic design paired with well-word cargo pants, function almost always favored over flair. The only two constants are her watch (a thick black diving number that's survived far more than it ought to have) and her well-worn Nike sneakers. Not that she doesn't get new ones, mind - she just breaks them in quick and oftentimes brutal fashion. Getting her to dress up is like pulling teeth, although the feat has been achieved a handful of times in the past. She looks rather good when she does, if she does say so herself. =================================== STRENGTHS:
WEAKNESSES:
TALENTS:
POWER: Beyond the ability to develop a white girl's afro when her hair's drying? Nope! =================================== BORNIN: Forks, Washington. LIVING IN: ...Forks, washington. FAMILY: Richard 'Dickie' Williams (45) is an amateur fisherman's guide that manages to turn a profit taking businessmen out into the woods to catch some salmon. Emily Rose Williams (nee Maziarz - she's 43) slings hash at the Rainy Daze Diner, and she has for the last twenty-five years or so. HISTORY: Lizzie was brought into the world on April 1st. It was obvious from the get-go that she was destined for mischief when she pulled on her father's beard hard enough to make his eyes water... and it only went downhill from there. With a case of the terrible twos that stretched well into her fourth year of life, her boundless energy was a source of just as much joy as it was annoyance - and that's not even mentioning the $10,000 that her dad won from America's Funniest Videos. There's worse things to be known for than being the girl that cheekily asked her father to kiss her behind after a particularly nasty spill, after all. The memory of that had long since faded by the time she went to kindergarten, of course... not that it mattered, since Lizzie found her niche in the scheme of things at an early age. Never quite reaching popular status, the redhead wasn't ever considered uncool either. If anything, she was middle of the road on that front with the same being true of her grades. Bella Swan and the Cullens didn't ever really concern her, despite her being in the same age group; she simply had her own business going on, and there wasn't really much of note that happened. She had a couple flings, she ran every morning that she could, and she managed to avoid most of the pitfalls that typically devoured pretty girls whole. Of course, there was that one time that she tried to offer comfort to one of the cute boys from La Push... but nothing really came of that beyond a conversation and him looking at her funny for about thirty seconds. There are times that she wonders about just what the tattoo on his shoulder was supposed to be, but that's about it. If only she could remember his name - maybe she'd know if everything turned out alright for him. She sure as Hell hopes so. As for the now? Going to college online in order to stay in Forks, Lizzie's course load keeps her body enough to prevent her from having to get a job... which means she has plenty of time to get out and enjoy life. At the moment, this means fixing up the '67 Plymouth Fury that she won at auction for a song. There's times it's tricky going, but she's making good progress. Of course, that's just how things are as she enters the fray; will she remain ignorant to the world going on beyond her knowledge, or will she get wrapped up in it with everyone else? Only time will tell. =================================== ALIAS: Thaly. HOWYOUFOUNDUS: A link in the c-box of Neverending Sacrifice. OTHERCHARACTERS: None. RP SAMPLE: No one in the Williams family had ever been slow to come to from any sort of unconsciousness, be it from sleep or chemicals... and Lizzie was no exception. Despite that, she was the last of the trio to come to - likely due to how she slept abnormally heavily to make up for being so quick to rise. Eric's screaming about zombies was just as effective as her atomic-level alarm clock at jolting her awake from the sedative-induced slumber she had been originally put into. Her awareness of being in the situation she was in - or, at least, part of it - came just as quickly since she jerked upright... without exactly getting there. Grunting when she smacked her face against the wood in front of her face, the redhead groaned softly in pain, a hand managing to find its way up to rub her forehead. There was just enough room for her to do so, although she whacked her elbow on what felt like a wall beside her. The wood was rough on her skin, probably giving her one Hell of a scrape... not that she felt it. No, her mind was on more important things than minor injuries and the sleeveless green sundress she wore that made it easier to get them - like how her feet hurt in the high heels her mother had convinced her to buy for her date with Brent, and that was quickly taken over by a mix of terror and irritation at the song that was suddenly sang - not so much because of how it was being near-screamed out, but because of what led the young man to make the transition from 'box' to 'boat'. Since she felt way too dry to be in Davey Jones' locker, that meant... Buried alive... a horror convention I really could have lived without experiencing firsthand. The redhead fought against her increasing heart rate and rapid breathing to keep them both at a reasonable level since she knew panicking would only make things harder on her - harder on them both, although she thought that the presence moving beside her toward the bottom of what must have been a hand-built box (she stubbornly refused to think of it as it really was - a coffin) and the source of the voice were two different people. Okay, so three of them, meaning they could work together and get out of this... but that would be damned near impossible if that whiny voice didn't quit being so very loud. Lizzie did her best to sound soothing when she spoke. "Hey, calm down. We'll get out of here... although I don't recognize your voice. What's your name? And, ah..." There's a momentary pause as the human wracks her brain for that special list of circumstances that her Viking had given her - y'know, the one where she could just drop all decorum and secrecy to outright ask if she was in the presence of anyone that wasn't human. Maybe it was the circumstances, but her usually-frenetic pace of thought was even quicker than usual, hopping from topic to topic to topic so fast that even she couldn't keep up with it. Ultimately, she gave up trying to put together specifics when an oatmeal cookie recipe tried to insert itself into things and decided that she'd just deal with the consequences if she was wrong about a life-or-death situation being on that most sacred of lists. "...oh to Hell with it. Is there just humans in here, or do we have a member of the supernatural in the house?" There was an edge of fear in her voice - okay, more like there was a good deal of it - but she's at least trying to make the effort to sound brave, to be the calmness to counterpoint the near-hysterical antics of the male that she shared this space with. |
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