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Username: monotori67
Who recruited you?: I do believe I recruited myself! (coughDcough)

Name: Larisha Madzelan
Age: 14
Gender: Female
Height: 5' 8"
Weight: 130

Race: Human
Social Class: Peasant

Appearance: In such a prestigious school, one would expect a fine lady, ready with poise and grace and manners. She would glide up the stairs of every court in her calmed, clean face and dress, matching her glisteningly white slippers and sophisticated hair styles.
Well, it ain't happening.
Larisha just isn't that kind of kid. She was raised with a mother just dying for her daughter to grow up and become a lady, but the time has yet to come. Though they are poor and dark, the family still holds values true to them that this poor girl just can't live up to. Like the rest of her family, she has dark brown skin that almost blends with the fur of their cat, Whisper. Along with this trait comes brown hair with a slightly lighter tinge and borderline black-brown eyes. The hair is held up in a high ponytail, loose and free and thick (she brushes it every day, but it doesn't seem to show). The eyes are supposed to be hidden behind thing wire-frame glasses, but Larisha absolutely refuses to wear them unless she's studying. Alone.
Besides the dirt and grime that seems to attatch itself to her skin, her garb is usually just a loose white blouse and- much to her chagrin- ankle-length grey skirts (ugh). They're pretty loose, though. Good thing, too, because her figure isn't exactly slim. Don't get me wrong, she's probably not going to be held out of the pageant because of it- not like she'd go anyways!- but if she gained much more the teasing would be worse.
And every punch would be so much more gratifying.

Personality: Hmm. Four words: eat, study, sleep, kill. The last one never happened to her- and probably never will- but it's something she'd love to do to anyone in her way. She's a stubborn donkey, though her brains are much better than an a**'. The only reason she doesn't do well in school is because of her defiant attitude and overwillingness to fight over any conflict, but that's what makes her much more of a friend to people around her. Though in the 'battlefield' she can be fierce and uncontrolled, in her room she's silent and secretive, even a bit weak.
She won't admit that, though.
Though, with her loud mouth she probably won't have to.

Character flaws: Numero uno? Will fight over ANYTHING, and is stubborn as a cow.

She's got more features of a cow than that.

And her emotions range from sobbing her heart out in the corner of her room to pummeling some nerd in the classroom.

Background: A peasant makes you think of farms and straw. And poop. Larisha had none of that. Instead she lived in a bustling city, where there was constant actions to fill her constant hunger for excitement. Her mother stayed at home, taking care of the kids, while her father was off working for some engine-repairing place. The pay was enough to feed the family and buy some cheap toys to keep the kids entertained, until they grew and became tired of yo-yos and rocking horses. By that time Larisha retreated to the magical world of books. Her sister Tara had become infatuated with fashion at the same time her brother started athletics. They rarely had anything in common to do with each other, so they went to specific schools to their liking: one famous for sports, one famous for style, and one famous for... well, her parents didn't care much for girls learning through books. Cooking and sewing seemed more important than reading and writing, but they still decided to let her go; after all, nobles were supposedly going to that same school, and she would learn to behave from them.

Hopefully.

Skills: She's strong in two out of three ways: physically and mentally. The third is emotionally, but I can't say she's the best at holding down her emotions. However, she's recently been learning to draw (badly) and her writing skills are more than exceptional.
If only she would show them off in the classroom instead of in her journal.

Belongings: The one most important thing to bring, in her opinion, was one glue-bound leather-covered notebook. That was pretty dumb of her, since a notebook doesn't last if you're going to write an essay about how each day went, but at least it's something she could use to store her thoughts and feelings. Plus, nobody could find it in her pillowcase (wink wink) if she took it out every laundry day and put it in her drawers until the laundry was done.
She also brought extra-hard leather gloves, to practice punches against the pillows as well as... other things.

Character secrets: Besides the notebook, she cries whenever she's alone. It's not easy being a bully, and it's even harder when nobles think they're so high and mighty. One of these days she wants to just punch one to death, but that's not going to happen until her jabs are more critical.

Anything else? Mebbe later, I guess.

With a rather loud crash Kat stumbled into her new room. Both arms were laden with items- a tan suitcase which, as she eyed it with menace, seemed ready to fly apart and scatter her clothes about the immaculate room. In the other hand dangles a medium sized white chest. Her cheeks were still flushed from the blustering English wind, as she surved the room for a moment, then dropped both items with another crash. She winced slightly at the sound and sat on the freshly linened bed. With a small sigh- well as much of a sigh as a corset would allow- she removed the cold iron key from between her teeth (very unlady like but what else was one to do when one had no more room in her hands?) and set the key carefully in the pocket of the overcoat she wore currently. Her leather boots scuffing the floor, she undid the pins that were restraining her hair. Tasting freedom at last the curls unfurled themselves and hung to her mid-back in dark locks.

She had somehow managed to find her way up to the room- through the crazy, almost whimsical twisting corridors. And now wondered at the feat- with the question only of how she was to find her way anywhere else. There was also the mystery of the second bed in the room. So it seemed that she would indeed be sharing her room. She pondered this, twirling a brown curl between the palms of both fingers. At best she was shy, if not seemingly anti-social... but of course it might be a good oppertunity to meet another person, which she had little occasion to do so in her home town, besides the drab community parties, where she always found some way to embarass herself and of course, her parents as well. On reflection they only probably sent her to this school to get her out of their hair.

Kat jumped slightly as someone- she supposed her new room-mate- crashed into the room. Equally loud, she supposed, as she herself had come in. Just as the other girl surveyed her, she surveyed the girl. This was not exactly the girl she imagined being friends with- quite far from it- this girl looked almos menacing. After all, she had practically glared at her right after coming in the door. And now way trying to ignore her. Joy. With a sigh she turned upon her jacket buttons, it was getting awkwardly stuffy in the room, as well as quiet. The silence was just as stuffy as the heat, and she loathed it. She wanted nothing more then to start laughing hyterically, but then she would surely be considered an absolute loon.

Undoing the last button, she slipped the jacket- which she now noted was getting a bit small at the sleeves- off her arms and let it drop to the floor. Scooting off the bed she knelt on the floor by her suitcase. Upon pressing the two brass clasps the suitcase sprung open. Two pairs of tights flew out, both mended numerous times on the right knee. With a sigh Kat threw them back on the suitcase and dragged the thing to her wardrobe, where she began to put away her clothes.

When all the clothes were put away, the silence became too much. Still facing the wardrobe she muttered "I'm...I'm Kathryn. Pleased, erm, to meet your acuaintance..." She scuffed her boot against the floor uncomfortably and removed both shoes by using her toes against her heel to pull the shoes off until she was in stockinged feet.

Kat Flushed slightly and tured around from the wardrobe to answer, however her new room mate had already gone off to another section of the room and most probably couldn't hear her whispered "kay..." In slight frustration she kicked the wardrobe sullenly. This was not going as she had planned. She had managed to make herself look like and idiot and bruse her toe in the timeframe of half an hour. No. This was not going well at all.

She plucked the black-and-white ribbon that was tied around her wrist from the double knot it was in and bound back her wild hair. She doubted it would stay tamed for long. It had been behaving reasonably well for today, unlike her room mate. She walked over to the bedroom window and opened the shutters. She gazed outwards, her head supported by her hands on the window sill. And was soon lost in her own worlds of thoughts and worries, one of which was that she had caused the fight between her and her new room mate.

Oh Goodness. How had she ever gotten herself in this situation? She wondered to herself after being uncerimoniously jogged from her daydreaming by her roomate (oh god...roomate?) who had whirled, quite literally, out of the room, shouting something about the common room. Visiting the common room would probably be a pretty good idea except her roomate, who she was sure hated her, was there. And it would just be asking for trouble to be in the same room as her.

She pushed off the windowpane and turned in a circle in the room. It was so weird. Alien. She looked on the floor and noticed some books lying on the floor. She shuffled closer. She loved reading. She read both titles and glanced over the pictures on the front. No. She had not read these books yet. She wanted so badly to pick one up and bury herself in it. Just the first chapter she assured herself as she glanced quickly at the door before picking up one of the books and opening it to the first page.

Kat read the book with intrest. It was definately not the typical victorian novel. This story was about independance, or that was what she got from the portion she read. It was well written, though she could see no note of an author. She thumbed the corner of the page where "continued on page eleven" was written in scrawling spidery handwriting. She wanted to read more, but left her imagination to do the work for her. Carefully she placed the book where she had found it. She had taken enough risk for today- after all she had touched the belongings of her menacing roomate, when specifically instruced not to (probably on pain of death or something of the like).

Slowly she backed away from the spilled suitcase and towards her own corner of the room where she flopped on the bed resolutely. Her hair sprawled, fanning and tangling across the quilt. Maybe going to the common room was a good idea, although her roomate was there, it would probably do her some good to see some other people. Pupils. Students. Etc. Rising with a groan she peeled herself off the bed, brushed and tied back her hair quickly, then strode down the hall down to the common room withough forgetting to lock the dorm room door behind her (of which she was quite proud).

Too bad Kat was already asleep; she wouldn't be able to hear the ruckus Larisha was making. Storming up the stairs to her dorm was not an easy task- each agonizing step forced her toes further into her shoes, erupting blisters everywhere. Besides that, her dress was increasingly itchy and it took all of her will to abstain from stopping to scratch. It'd probably give her a rash, and her skin was starting to get dry anyway. Finally, in frustrated defeat she halted midway down the Women's Corridor to slip off her footwear and outer dress- ducking behind a wall to make sure nobody was watching- and pulled out strings that were keeping her hair tidy. Without it Larisha's hair started to expand, forcing her to rush toward her room. After all, it would be highly embarassing to find herself caught with a huge fro by some classmate; what would happen to her self-esteem then?

Once at her door Larisha reached into her pocket and fished out a key. Did I say key? Actually, her pocket was empty. "Shoot!" she cursed softly. A moment later she grinned at her idiocy as she fished a pin from her hair and stuck it in the hole, jiggling it around for a few seconds before the door swung open and she somersaulted inside with the force. Her hand reached up to pull out the pin and she picked herself up, grabbing her shoes and outer dress. Not noticing her books spread all over the floor Larisha threw her posessions in a drawer and rushed into the bathroom to take a bath. It felt nice to feel some moisture over her dry skin yet she seemed to be in a trance the whole time and didn't think about what she was doing. She threw a towel around her, ran into the bedroom and grabbed a nightgown- too small for her, but it would suffice until she could get another one- rushed into the bathroom and threw it on, then emptied the tub and threw herself onto the bed.

What disturbed her about this process was (a) the water sloshed over the side of the tub when she stepped in it (b) the towel barely fit around her waist and (c) the bed creaked more than it should've under her weight. Larisha frowned, tears springing to her eyes. She knew she could never keep her weight under control. For a moment her head leaned towards Kat, looking over her figure. It was skinny, thin, slender. Not what I am. Not what I could ever be.

But why should she care? She quickly wiped away her tears and slipped inside her blankets, furious. She really didn't know what to think about herself. It was much easier to make fun of others, like that, that... pig sleeping on the bed near hers. That girl would learn what it was like to live like Larisha. She would learn the hard way.

Larisha grinned at her schemes. Oh, what fun.