Anya Valkyrie

[Anya]

ANYA VALKYRIE

i am a question to the world
NOT AN ANSWER TO BE HEARD

Character Name: Anya Valkyrie
Gender: Female
Age: 14
Alliance: Neutral, Good
Type: Weapon, Revolver
Partner: N/A

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and you see the things they never see
ALL YOU WANTED I COULD BE

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Appearance: With hair the color of a sunflower, brown, chocolate colored eyes, and a bright smile that could light up a whole room, Anya could be considered somewhat... cute. Her hair is cut into somewhat of a sloppy bob, falling just bellow her chin with a white hat almost always covering the top third of her head. An averaged heighted body is almost constantly clothed in a simple, stripped blue spagetti strap with plain white colored pants. And her black and white bag (bear key chain included) is, more often then not, somewhere within reach.

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they can't tell me who to be
'CAUSE I'M NOT WHAT THEY SEE

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Personality:

Anya has a Jekyll/Hyde personality. Typically she is mild-mannered, caring, and goal-oriented. But once one gets on her bad side, the gloves are off. She’s competitive and always works hard to accomplish any goal. Not usually the one to start a fight, she won’t back down from a challenge and is ready to silence anyone who makes her temper flair.

While she’s more of an action movie fan, she absolutely adores the book I, Strahd by P.N. Elrod (the only book she will ever read, and the only vampire story she believes anyone should read). She has a bit of a sweet-tooth and her favorite treat is ice cream. She would someday be a crazy cat-lady if it wasn’t for her cat allergies. Her hobby is collecting bear figurines. No real reason, she just likes bears.

Likes:

• I, Strahd by P.N. Elrod
  
• Bears. Just... Bears.
  
• Action movies
  
• Ice cream
  
• Cats
  

Dislikes:

• Her cat allergies...
  
• Anything that's slimy and crawls...
  
• Cleaning
  
• Reading (unless it's her favorite book)
  
• People who chew with their mouths open...
  

Fears:

• Anything that's slimy and crawls. O.O
  
• Losing her precious copy of I, Strahd
  

Goals:

• To become the world's youngest Death Scythe in history, of course~!
  
• To be able to outshine her sister
  

Strengths:

• Courageous
  
• Unpredictable
  
• Loving
  
• Independent
  
• Brave
  

Weaknesses:

• Overly aggressive
  
• Highly emotional
  
• selfish
  
• short tempered
  
• overly protective
  

Quirks/Habits:

• Always has candy in her pocket to nibble on when she gets nervous or scared
  
• Chews with her mouth closed...
  

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how can the world want me to change
THEY'RE THE ONES THAT STAY THE SAME

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Family Members:
Mother: unnamed
Father: unnamed
Sibling(s): Falon
History:

Anya grew up in a typical home with her parents and sister. Falon, her older sister by three years, was always the more popular of the two making Anya crave more attention. Both tried to outdo each other in everything, giving new meaning to sibling rivalry.

It is in this competition that Anya discovered weapon’s blood flowing through her veins. During a game of “Ghost in the Graveyard” at the age of five, Falon scared her sister silly. The younger girl became engulfed in light and transformed into a gun for the first time.

Having heard about Shibusen, Anya decided to head to the school. She finally had something unique that her sister couldn’t compete with. Her goal is to become the youngest Death Scythe in history.

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i want a moment to be real
WANNA TOUCH THINGS I DON'T FEEL

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OOC Name: Leap
Age: 13... AND A HALF.
Member Title: N/A
Experience: A little over a year...
Post Example:

"You have to promise me that you'll apologize!"

Green eyes stared blankly at the vertical walls of the warrior's den, seemingly burning holes into the structure. They watched nothing in particular, and the being who they belonged to looked either to tired to even blink, or to traumitized to get up. Paws hung limply from the side of the nest, barely dusting the flattened ground. They looked somewhat dirty on the tips, at though they had been in that position all night, picking up specks of dust that might have clung onto their toes. A single tail was wrapped carelessly around the rest of the creature's frame, providing little protection from any cold that might have made its way into the den during the night hours.

"Who are you to be telling me what to do? I don't take orders from an apprentice! And besides, maybe I wanted to do what I did that night!"

Batwing hadn't slept a wink last night. Arguements from sun high to sunset were all he could think of as he attempted to drift into slumber. Even if his dreams would have been filled to the brim with nightmares, the previous night would have been better then it was. He hadn't moved at all. Not once. And, even though exhaustion rules over him, he still could force himself to fall asleep.

"Are you telling me you wanted to kill your clanmates! You're crazy, Batwing, crazy! And you're even crazier if you think I'd believe such a lie!"

"Sh-shut up, Shadowpaw! Nobody asked you!"

Moments ticked by, and the tom didn't move from his spot. Was what Shadowpaw said the previous day right? Perhaps he should apologize for his previous behavior... Or maybe he should leave the situation at where it was. Perhaps Silverpelt was so angry at him, she wouldn't be able to stand looking at him. Of course, these questions had troubled him since the sun had began to rise over the horizon. He'd long since given up on falling asleep since it seemed usless to try any longer. And he still couldn't awnser any of them.

"You will say your sorry tomarrow, or I'll make sure you'll regret that you didn't."

Suddenly, he felt movement and the sent of a certain she-cat grow more powerful. "Silverpelt..." he whispered, his voice groggy from a long night of silence. He suddenly became aware of the den around him and found that he was the only one who had not gotten up from his nest. Thank goodness no one had tried to awaken him - he might have very well gave them a claw or two to the face. Upon the only remaining warrior's exit, the tom forced himself to rise to his paws and stumbled outside into the heat of the sunlight.

Oh how he prefered night time.

The black warrior's gaze drifted to the she-cat who had exited the den only moments before he arose. His track of sight followed her shape as she padded towards the fresh kill pile, froze, padded around camp a couple of times, then planted herself on the ground in the shade of a large oak. To tired to make an attempt to pad over towards her, he fell to the ground, his rear end making a collision with the hard ground. He flinched for a heartbeat before relaxing and watching her once more. Someone ought to think he was stalking her.

Silverpelt. Her name ran through his mind a few times, before he moved on to other thoughts. She was one of the two she-cats who had confessed their love to him - at least, living she-cat - and one of the two who had he had tried to murder only moonrises earlier. He hadn't spoken to her since. Was he ready to speak with her, though? Or was he more of a chicken then he forced himself to believe? And what if he did build up the courage to speak with her? How would she react after what he'd done? She'd hate him, he was sure. She'd hate him for the rest of eternity and attack him the moment she saw him walking towards him.

Suddenly, a feeling of being watched washed over him. Was silverpelt looking back at him? ...No. Who knew what her gaze was fixed on. So who...? He turned his head only to see Shadowpaw, standing across the clearing, glaring daggers at him. She must have seen who he was staring at and figured that he was to much of a wuss to go talk to her. He knew what that glare meant. 'Go over and apologies or I'm going to torture you for the next moon'. It was either talk to someone, of have his face clawed; ten times over.

In an awquard fashion, Batwing approached the silver tabby she-cat. He desperately hoped that she didn't see his legs shaking like he'd been thrown into a pile of snow. How was he going to do this? What would he say? He was about to back away, hoping that she hadn't noticed him, when he realised that Shadowpaw's amber gaze had not stopped burning into his own raven black pelt. There was no getting out of this now. He'd gotten himself into this mess. He had to get himself out.

"Um... Silverpelt?" He hated the way his voice shook. "I... I need to... to talk to you..." Growling silently, he scolded, 'What's your problem? You're acting like a timid apprentice whose mentor looks about ready to eat them! Where's your warrior's courage? Get yourself together - you can do this!' Clearing his throat, he prepared to tell her what was on his mind.

"I'm dieing."

The black tom set on fire.

'Where did that come from?' he yowled to himself in disbeleif, letting his head dangle downwards and slapping a paw across his mussle. 'I'm not dieing! I'm not even sick! I'm nowhere near dieing! And that's completely irrelevant to the situation at hand! I'm a mouse brain, a mouse brain, a mouse brain!' The tom had never felt so embarassed in his life. The flesh beneath his fur was only getting redder by the second, and it felt as though the sun was forcing it's way into his pelt. 'Get yourself together. You are not letting her leave thinking that you have an experation date.'

He protested, "No! Wait! That's not... That's not what I meant! I mean... I wanted to say... Arg! Why can't I talk to you like anyone else? What makes you so special that I can't even put together words around you?" He was panting now, his tail flicking angrily back and forth. As the words that had spilled out of his mouth rewound back in his mind, the tom suddenly felt terrible. What had he said? It was his fault for not being able to speak with her properly, not hers... "I'm sorry; I didn't..." Batwing trailed off, unsure of how to defend himself now.

Notes:I got very, very lazy with this app. I just wanted to be over and done with it. I assure you, if I make another character, his/her app will be much longer then this with much more details. ^^

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Application made by Rachel. Lyrics belong to respective owners.

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[Karma]

Accepted
Nice to have Anya back! You can start rping.