Sabra Aulauland

[sabra]

001. NAME• Sabra Aulauland [Say-bruh Oh-lah-lin]
002. NICKNAME• Sab [Sayb]
003. AGE• 19
004. BIRTHDATE• September 1st, 1990
005. WHERE YOU LIVE?• New York City, New York

001. YOUR FACE• Not Applicable
002. HAIR• Her hair is naturally red, but also enhanced slightly. Sabra's been known to dye it blond on occasion, but the red enhances her eyes the best. It's often left flowing wavily over her shoulders in a messy bed-head-esque look.
003. EYES• A striking green color, her most captivating feature easily, accented with light eyeliner.
004. HIEGHT• 5'8" (Just about model height)
005. WEIGHT• A lady would never reveal her weight, nor does she own a scale. She found that it stressed her too much to micromanage her body weight on a regular basis. (Perhaps nearing 140.)
006. BODY MODS• No piercings.
007. FASHION/STYLE• When simply hanging out with friends, Sabra dresses very earthly, comfortable sweaters and such that drape over her thin frame, or tank tops, but she's an aspiring model, so she often dresses up to go out, a nice pair of jeans with pumps and a black corset being her favorite.

001. LIKES•
Writing and reading.
Bars. Big time people watcher...
(It's not easy being...) Green.
Alaskan snow crab legs and plenty of butter.
Rain and thunderstorms.
Farms.
Sleeping.
Music pieces arranged for piano and voice.
Candlelight.
Orange Chicken. (And the little chip things you get with soups.)
Orchids.
Owls.
002. DISLIKES•
Hard Candy (Anything that isn't chocolate.)
Those who can't endure silence.
Tuna.
Road trips.
Children. (Well, not truly. She feels incredibly awkward around them.)
Fluorescent Lights.
Cabbage.
Overly soft beds.
Girls who claim not to be whores and fling themselves at every guy they see.
Night-lights.
Self pity.
People who hate cats.
Those who claim to have been hurt physically or emotionally simply for attention.
003. FEARS•
Clowns. (Anything with face paint, really.)
Dark rooms when walking down a hallway. (Especially with windows. No particular reason why...)
Mirrors in a less than bright room.
Becoming her mother.
Needles. (They make her twitch.)
004. STRENGTHS•
Confidence, just plain normal (sometimes flawed) confidence.
Funny, but sometimes overly zany.
Intelligence.
Penny pincher.
Great pianist (mediocre vocalist.)
005. WEAKNESSES•
Confidence when it comes to singing.
The way she looks at the world. She often views it from a third party perspective.
Horror movies/novels. (Loves to read/watch, hates going to bed after.)
Conspiracy theories.
Overly forgiving. (Can't //remember to// hold a grudge for the life of her.)
Becomes terribly insecure in relationships.
006. ODDITIES•
Loves veggies. (Broccoli, Asparagus... You name it.)
Makes every action of hers something a person could be inspired by. (Hopes that somewhere, someone thought that she moved gracefully enough to write or paint her.)
Likes her cereal dry with a glass of milk on the side.
Doesn't mind being single. She writes the best that way.
Songs HEAVILY influence her emotional state.
007. ORIENTATION•
Although she thinks women are the more beautiful gender, and would perhaps rendezvous with one, she looks into men for long term relationships. Sabra believes she's actually doomed to never have sex, as she wants a loving romantic relationship, but in the bedroom wants someone more forceful.
008. SPECIFIC MORALS•
Standing up for the little person.
Smiling at every stranger she has eye contact with.
Treating people who provide services the BEST.
009. PERSONALITY OVERVIEW•
Although most of Sabra's good friends from childhood and beyond claim that she never pays attention, it's just the opposite that is true. Often found gazing into the distance when being spoken to, it's her way of tuning in as close as possible to what is actually being said. When thinking, her eyes often glaze over, and she is somewhere else entirely, taking the world around her in, and lolling its entirety around in her head.

She's always been very confident (despite middle school) and hated the girls that constantly needed a man in their life, but a part of her, while hating so much the girl that plays the damsel in distress, wanting to be one. In her twisted fantasies, she often finds herself with a broken leg, rescued by a man whose arms she faints in. Despite this, she wishes more than anything to not be that girl...

Sabra though, for the most part is malleable. She blends in with the crowd that she's with, but has been particularly careful about what sort of people that might be. Often people divulge their secrets to her as she retains so much information that something else is always on her mind. It is often hard for her to recall a particular secret that someone may have told her.

001. PARENT ONE• Sage Aulaulind, Preschool Teacher
002. PARENT TWO• Charles Aulaulind, Mechanic (For large scale industrial robots.)
003. SIBLINGS• None. Spoiled only child.
004. PETS• None at the moment.
005. HISTORY OVERVIEW•
Left on the doorstep of an orphanage as a baby, Sabra faired well throughout her childhood for the most part. The nuns, though sometimes strict, were loving and caring. She was not adopted quickly as she was often quieter than the rest, but she also enjoyed being with the nuns. They cultivated her natural talents, allowing her to walk down the street to take piano and voice lessons if she could pay (with her cleaning money), and often giving her books for Christmas. Developing close knit relationships through the years with the sisters, it was not until the strong recommendations of one nun placed her in a caring and lovely home. Despite this, Sabra never became very religious, always holding an apathetic view.

At the age of 14, she moved in with Sage and Charles, who quickly became 'mother' and 'father.' At first the Aulauland's found Sabra's eloquence isolating and worried that she was not adjusting well, but soon they individually bonded with her, finding that beneath her quiet nature was a depth of emotion. Although her bond with Sage and Charles was a bit different than most, and though she considers them parents, they also developed almost a friendship not found in most homes, often referring to themselves as "The Three Musketeers", a term that Sabra to this day still refuses to use with friends.

At the end of high school, Sabra decided to attend a local community college to save her parents money and to stay near them, but after a while Sabra felt the need to stretch her wings. Throughout her childhood, she had been petite, but once she hit high school, she grew through the roof. College was wonderful, but her goals in life changed with one art class, in which she realized she felt more comfortable being the model than the person behind the camera.

Finally having a glimpse of a dream, she told her parents her feelings, they encouraged her to move to New York City, giving her as much money as they could afford, as long as she would constantly call, and visit when she became famous. Not a night goes by without Sabra calling her mother and father, and now that she's finally getting work, albeit with amateur photographers, she can afford to drive down every now and them. Sabra now lives in the walk-in closet of an old woman's apartment, which she only uses to sleep, working as a waitress or job hunting the rest of the time.

Yo', my name is Chelsea, and I've been the walking dead for 19 years, and I've been cradle robbing for forever , I dug up lovely Crimson Kiss by means of the internet machine and adore it.

001. ANYTHING ELSE?• I really tried to pull my own quirks and personality traits to make this character. The fears/loves/dislikes are all mine. All true. (Not the model/adoption thing though.) I also attempted to make an interesting, normal charrie, and with the help of the lovely Ellie, I think I may have come close to achieving that. ^_^
002. ROLE PLAY SAMPLE•
Sabra pulled her legs up onto the cold steel bench into an awkward indian-style, her ankles hurting ever so slightly. Smoothing out her waitress uniform, she pulled a leatherbound notebook from her purse and traced her fair hand over the emblem, a golden owl. Absentmindedly thumbing a stain on her apron, she jotted down novel ideas, her red hair tumbling forward into the wind, veiling her face as she silently mouthed words.

She paused for a moment as the street light began to flicker, and pulled her journal close to her in mock comfort. It was late, and Ms. Kalanowski would be worried about her, not to mention the streets were utterly desolate. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she walked quickly down the streets, the fear of dark windows lurking in her thoughts.

Looking down at the sidewalk and her feet, she willed them to move faster, the cracks beneath her not going by fast enough. Suddenly she ran into something resembling a brick wall, nearly sending her sprawling across the sidewalk. With a waitress' reflexes, she stumbled back before catching herself, standing up straight to reveal a man around 6'2". He loomed over her, his dark eyes sending shivers up and down her spine.

"Watch your step," he whispered in a dramatically deep voice. She shivered, but nodded with a small small before carrying on even more quickly than before, her adrenaline urging her forward. As with any embarrassing moment, she turned to see if he was watching her and caught his eyes through the reflection of a store window to her left. With a short gasp, she rushed home, scrambling to remove her keys from her purse and forcing them into the door, her heart racing. Finally, it budged and she felt herself careening through the small opening, catching her hip on the doorknob without care. Slamming it behind her, she collapsed, sliding down onto the floor, exhausted by her fear, when she heard a voice...

"I've been expecting you..."

(ZEEE EEND! So I'm a total jerk. Kthxbai.)