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(Mandatory)Name: Charlotte Si

(Mandatory) Name: Charlotte SinClaire Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 25 or so Eye Color: blue Hair: blonde Height: 5’ even Branch:Intelligence and Medical Rank: (I'll help you with this later…so don't worry about this) Nationality: Russian Birth place: Chekhov, Russia Back story: Born as a healthy third child to loving parents, you won’t find much in the way of tragedy in Charlotte’s life. She was born in a small town in Russia and tormented by two older brothers for most of her formative years, a sister coming to their little family in her early teens. She trudged through her life of school and social interactions

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1] Beginnings

1] Beginnings The first time they meet she breaks his nose. He doesn’t realize what’s happened until he’s sprawled on his back, the cold of the concrete seeping into his skin through his thin jacket. He stares foolishly up at the sky for several seconds before the pain registers in his dazed brain. The incident, as he decides to call it, lands them both in the dean’s office. His nose is stuffed with tissues that a rather unsympathetic Takashi had given him between fits of hysterical laughter, and she is slouched two seats away, steadfastly trying to glare a hole in the too cheerful poster on the opposit

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Moving Through the Lines

Moving through the lines She moves Slowly,gracefully Like a spectre Smooth lines Taking the steps That haved been... burned Into her memory She listens To the sounds around her Thump(her feet against the wood floor) Whish(her sword) Swoosh(her robes), The pattern continues Thump.Whish.Swoosh Thump.Whish.Swoosh Thump.Swish.Rustle She ceases movement The pattern is broken Someone is watching her She resumes her movements Making no sign That she suspects something is amiss Silently she scents the air She does not know her stalker Thump.Whish.Swoosh. Silently,in the blink of an eye she draws her dagger And gives a

Old and Melo Dramatic.No Seriously Guys DOn'

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1] Beginnings by dragongirl240, literature

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1] Beginnings

1] Beginnings The first time they meet she breaks his nose. He doesn’t realize what’s happened until he’s sprawled on his back, the cold of the concrete seeping into his skin through his thin jacket. He stares foolishly up at the sky for several seconds before the pain registers in his dazed brain. The incident, as he decides to call it, lands them both in the dean’s office. His nose is stuffed with tissues that a rather unsympathetic Takashi had given him between fits of hysterical laughter, and she is slouched two seats away, steadfastly trying to glare a hole in the too cheerful poster on the opposit