warriorswolftail: ([Sokka] watch and wait)
"Uh. Hey. This is Sokka. Leave a message on this... thing, I guess."
warriorswolftail: (Default)
'sup, RP land? I'm [personal profile] jenioctavia  or alternately just Jeni. Need to get a hold of me? I got a few ways to do that.

*PM to personal journal
*PM or mention on twitter or plurk
*or JeniOctavia @ AIM =D
warriorswolftail: ([Sokka] this is my fight)
Player Name: JeniOctavia
Player Contact: jenioctavia@gmail.com | jenioctavia @ AIM | jenioctavia @ Plurk
Currently Played:
Duo Maxwell | [personal profile] duomaxwell
Haku Yowane | [personal profile] sakedrinking

Character Name: Sokka
Canon Name: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Canon Point: End of Series

Personality:

Sokka went through a lot of changes in his personality and view of the world through out the series. He started out as almost pessimistic (he would of course argue that he was a 'realist' to Katara's optimist), slightly sexist, sarcastic, and somewhat immature. Though he tried to be the 'man' of the water tribe (being the eldest of the boys but too young to be a warrior when his father left) he had a problem with being petulant and whiny when people didn't listen to him or things didn't go his way, and arrogant when proven right. His thoughts on bending are less than impressed and even after maturing over the time he spent with Aang he still takes joking jabs at bending by making up names like "jerkbending" when referring to Fire Bending.

He's retained quite a bit of his sarcasm (really, he wouldn't be Sokka without it), but he's gotten over a lot of his prejudices that he previously held. He sees women, even non-benders, as equals if not better than him, he no longer shows hatred towards the Fire Nation and recognizes that many, if not all people under Fire Lord Ozai were simply being loyal and were not truly evil beings, though he's not quick to forgive crimes against people. He has a strong sense of righteousness, an even stronger sense of pride, especially for his tribe, and does not take well to people doing wrong by others. He wants peace just as much as the rest of his friends, but unlike Aang he is more than willing to take a fighting stance against those who need to be punished, even if he doesn't stand a chance in the battle. This is multiplied ten-fold when it comes to wrongs committed against the Water Tribe. Even away from home, his heart and duty is to his home and their sister tribes and he will fight to the death to defend them.

Sokka is clever, imaginative, creative even in the most unconventional of ways, the team's go-to "Idea Guy" and known for not only helping the Mechanist on his current projects but giving new ideas to start on. He's a strategist, a calculating warrior at heart who is more often than not the one 'in the know' about the ins and outs of whatever battle plan they've got going. What he lacks in physical strength and bending, he makes up for with knowing just how to strike hardest and do the most damage. If he were ever to take over Hakoda's place as chief of the Southern Water Tribe in his older years, it is almost guaranteed his leadership skills would have only improved, his swordsmanship would make him a formidable fighter and his ingenuity would have the warriors running smoothly and efficiently.

He is young, and he's aware of his youth, and with that awareness he's also more than aware of his own failings and weakness, but even with this he does not let failure or disappointment drag him down for long. He learns quickly from mistakes and seeks to right them in whatever method he can, even going so far as risking imprisonment to rescue his father and girlfriend. His loyalties to his friends, new and old, are strong and difficult to break and whatever happens he is always ready to fight along side his friends in battle, even when they are benders and he is not. He's often said that he "manages just fine" without bending and has only a handful of times ever shown any sort of jealousy towards those of the bending arts. Given that he's well on his way to being a master swordsman and may very well be inducted in to The Order of the White Lotus in his later years should he achieve that status, it's unlikely he'll continue to feel inferior to benders.

Sokka struggles a slight problem of self-inflicted misery. It's rarely anything bad, but his sometimes negative outlook and tenancy to be a bit of a trouble magnet does lead to some often hilarious results. A fortune teller did tell him that most of his struggling in life would be self inflicted, but at the time he was more than willing to brush her fortune telling off as nonsense. If anything he tries to make the best of and take humor out of some of the situations he winds up in, like falling in to a Haiku session on accident and learning he had a knack for poetry he wasn't previously aware of.

He can be emotional, as his ties to people are very heart felt and emotionally based, which can lead to easier heart ache than some of his more emotionally detached friends. Losing some one he cares about hurts enough to show, and he has not been above crying when the pain of a situation or the memory of it strikes him. He does, however, know that he needs to keep putting one foot in front of the other, even when it hurts, and has shown great tenacity in being able to move on and keep going with his life.

Abilities:

Sokka is a developing swordsman, adept with the Jian style of Chinese long sword (though in that world it would likely be "Fire Nation Long Sword") and constantly increasing his skill with it. His master, Piandao, insisted that Sokka could some day become a master swordsman, though he is still young and it will take time for him to achieve that level. Since he made his sword himself at Piandao's request it is safe to assume that Sokka has developed some metallurgy skills as well.

He also has skills with a Water Tribe boomerang and mace/machete, though his sword skills have quickly surpassed his previous accuracy and skill with the weapons he started out with. He is, however, innovative enough that he has been shown to take even simple every day things and items on his person and turn them in to weapons or workable items on the battle field (one example being using a magnifying glass on a "detective hat" he was wearing to focus the sun on and light the fuze of explosives on a Rough Rihno's pouch) and is not above even pitching rocks and snowballs at enemies if it helps.

As an inventor, he is on par with the Mechanist, an older gentleman who has been inventing for most of his adult life. Sokka was even creating 'guard towers' out of snow even when he was as young as twelve or thirteen. During his time with Aang he was responsible for figuring out how to make a hot air balloon rise without catching on fire and designing armored tanks and submersible water ships. He absorbs information quickly, and if given the chance could probably come up with a handful of weapons, methods and designs that would make any already well working army wonderfully efficient, not to mention what he could possibly do for any under developed nation or tribe.

Writing Samples: You must include any TWO of the following:

3. a link or links to at least 40 IC comments made by your character
Sokka and Quatre talk - Digital Dive

4. a 300 word writing sample that is unrelated to your character.

Ana swallowed hard, curling her knees tighter to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She found herself suddenly glad that she'd forgone getting a pet while her and Dan still lived in the small duplex they shared. She wouldn't be able to live with one after that story.

Mustang seemed less disturbed. There were some records of the incident that he'd read, though most were vague at best, so admittedly Vincent's retelling of the tale was actually rather impressive. Despite all the general had been through in life, the thought of unidentifiable things coming from the sky served to make the man think twice about the walk home being a safe one.

Shez, however, was positively terrified. Her initial reaction was to point, mouth agape, at the very end of the man's story, and then proceed to practically crawl on poor Falman's head like a cat that got spooked and had no where else to claw to. She was rambling, practically destroying the man in her attempt to flee as if the very things Vincent spoke about were going to swoop down and take her away, and it took Havoc a good minute just to pull the flailing girl away, leaving a very disheveled officer in her wake.

Once she was calm and the nervous giggles and chuckles had subsided, Mustang rose once more and addressed the group.

"I want to thank you all for coming. We're running out of time, but we do have long enough for one more story to conclude the evening. Any takers?"

Slowly Ana's hand rose, and all turned to stare at her in confusion. This would be her third year participating in the Hallows Eve events, and she had yet to contribute.

Mustang nodded to her and sat, allowing her to stand and move towards the fire. She cleared her throat, shifted on her feet and fiddled with an odd little leather pouch she had in her hands.

"I won't pretend like my story is going to be as scary as the others, but I figure its high time I at least give it a shot. So I'm going to tell you about a rather odd legend that has floated around Rush Valley for decades...

The first time I ever heard this story was when I was in secondary school," Ana explained, "Supposedly there had been a nice female teacher there, some five years previous, who just up and vanished one day after acting weird for a whole week. The incident had prompted a lot of rumors, but one in particular became an all out legend, retold in Rush Valley for years.

The story goes a little something like this:

This teacher was heading home from work one day, happily thinking of all her good students and the field trip they had planned for the next day. When she arrived home, there was an oddly shaped package on her porch, addressed to no one. Curious, she wondered if a student had left her a present and forgotten to mark it.

She brought it inside and tore it open, finding an slightly battered looking tape reel inside, the kind made for an audio recorder and player. It wasn't a common device, mostly used by the military, but she just so happened to have one. She went to put in on the player in her living room, but a paper fluttered out of the package.

Scrawled in hasty block letters were the words 'DO NOT LISTEN TO THIS REEL'.

It was a joke. It had to be.

Ignoring the warning, she put it on and listened. It was quiet save for some faint static in the background, but eventually a distorted voice warbled through the small speaker.

'You...have five days...' it was saying. She blinked, and leaned closer. Five days for what? 'You...have five days...to live...'

After that there was silence, and the tape ended.

The woman was unnerved slightly, but thought nothing of it. She went about the next day as usual, the field trip going off without a hitch.

She went home, and there was another unmarked letter that was on her porch. She opened it, and found more paper with the words ‘DO NOT LISTEN TO THE REEL.’

The woman shook her head then went to play back the tape, just to agitate the mysterious messenger who was obviously playing an elaborate prank. As it played, the static was once again followed by a voice.

"You have...four days to live..."

Four? Hadn't it said five yesterday? Trying to convince herself that it was trick of the mind, she played it again.

"You have four days to live!" it said, only this time with far more assertion.

She couldn't believe it. The tape was...was speaking to her? Impossible! Things like that just didn't happen!

Still, she was worried, and called the local MP anyway. They responded and searched the house for any clues. However they found none, and listening to the tape again only had static, the sound of an unrecorded reel. They told her to get some rest, that maybe she was getting ill, and shakily she agreed.

The next three days were the same thing. A letter on the porch, the same words, and another day gone from the message, the voice sound more and more urgent with each listen. It was like a sick obsession. She was terrified for her life, yet she couldn't stop going to the tape player and pressing play.

And the longer this went on, the more jumpy and nervous she became. At school she could barely concentrate on teaching her kids, all of whom noticed the change and asked her if she was okay. At first she said she was fine, but after a short time she got to the point where she would just burst in to tears at the mere mention of it.

When confronted by the other teachers, she couldn't bring herself to retell what had been happening, frightened that they would all think she was crazy.

By the fourth day she couldn't even make it through an hour of lessons, and was forcibly sent home by the school's head master.

'NO! You don't understand! If I go home, I'll die!' she cried.

'Obviously something is very wrong, but you refuse to tell anyone about it. Come back when you've dealt with the problem.'

Despite her vocal protests heard all up and down the halls, she was excused.

Nervous and shaken, she went to a near by park for a while to avoid going home. She sat and watched little kids play with their parents and heard their laughing. At first, it made her cry. She didn't want to die, but she had become so obsessed with the damn reel that now her time was up.

Then it dawned on her.

She would just not listen to the tape! Yes! That was the solution to everything. Do as the warnings said and she would be just fine, free to return to work the next day and see her wonderful students. And when she got home tomorrow evening she would just destroy the reel once and for all. She let out a relieved laugh and rushed home.

Upon arriving, though, she found no note, no envelope.

'Curious...' she wondered. Still, she stuck to her plan, and ignored the reel still sitting in the player. She went and made dinner, humming happily to herself as if she had not a care in the world.

Shortly after dinner, she went to the living room to read a book with a glass of sherry. Nothing had happened. She was still alive, with no threatening voices telling her she had such and such time to live.

As she read, the words got a bit blurry on the page. She rubbed at her eye lids, feeling a bit heavy.

'I've had a bit too much...' she said to herself, looking at the empty sherry glass. Deciding it was time for bed, she stood and went to set the book aside. It wobbled, misplaced on the edge of the end table, and fell over, flipping to the back where two empty binding pages were.

Only they weren't empty.

'LISTEN TO THE REEL, KAREN', the blocky letters in the same writing declared.

A scream ripped from her.

'NO!' she shrieked, falling to her knees, 'NO I WON'T LISTEN TO IT!' she continued to scream, though there was no one in the house with her. The pages rustled, moved by a non existent wind, seeming to taunt her with the same words.

Click

Static, louder than any other time she played the tape, filled the house.

'TODAY, YOU DIE! YOU DIE TODAY!' the horrible voice on the tape declared over and and over again. Karen screamed, hands over her ears, yet nothing seemed to drown the voice out.

Eventually it stopped, a soft slapping noise indicating the end of the reel. The silence was almost loud, and was only punctuated by her harsh breathing. After a while she stood up, going to the player to turn it off, an odd noise like a laugh coming from her.

She was still alive. It was all a cruel, horrible joke.

Her finger was just above the off switch when something whispered, so faint she could barely hear it. She hesitated, and it spoke again.

'Today...'

'No...'

'Today...you...'

'No no no!'

She began to shake violently, stumbling back from the player as it yelled one more time.

'TODAY YOU DIE, KAREN! YOU LISTENED TO THE TAPE, SO NOW YOU WILL DIE!'

She screamed again and ran from the house, voice raising for some one, anyone to help her. She barely made it to her car, though, when she heard an unnatural hiss and a shadow came out of nowhere, descending upon her.

The next morning, the police found her body, turned completely inside out on the roof of her car, blood poured over it like some one had dumped a literal bucket on the top.

Clutched in her fingers was a single, hastily scrawled note in blood.

'DON'T LISTEN'."
warriorswolftail: ([Sokka] you hurt Sokkas feelings)
[Video comes on at a slightly awkward angle showing mostly arms and the front of some one's shirt, with a workshop just barely visible - and somewhat tilted - in the background. After a few attempts its finally straightened, and Sokka steps back, looking not only tired (and fairly dirty) but somewhat sad.]

Zuko isn't here anymore... I waited a few days to see if he'd come back to the apartment, but Hawky had me check this... D-Comm location thingy and it says he's gone.

Sorry to anyone else who knew him and didn't get to say goodbye. But if he's back home, it's okay...

[he lets out a sigh, looking away and pulling a hand over his hair, pausing for a second to fix his ponytail which has fallen out a bit with whatever he's been working on. He tries to look a little more chipper, but it doesn't work as well as he'd hoped considering he's just been left alone with no one from his world there anymore.]

So uh... if anyone needs a sword or something, come see me in Neon. Zuko helped me get this place started so I'm not going to quit making weapons any time soon.

[there's a faint, thoughtful pull on his lips like he might just say more, but instead he just stands and turns the comm off.]
warriorswolftail: ([Sokka] watch and wait)
So uh... I guess I should introduce myself or something. Hawky said that's what people usually do, but I wasn't exactly awake when I showed up here.

I'm Sokka. Uhm, if... anyone knows Zuko? Yeah, we're friends. From the same world.

Obviously.

... shut up, Hawky.

This is so awkward it hurts.

Okay, you know what-!!

What? Come on, out with it, ponytail!

[the two of them basically dissolve in to loud arguing and Sokka forgets all about his little introduction post. Oops.]
warriorswolftail: ([Partner] Hawky)
I think I'm using this thing right...

So. Uh. My buddy Sokka here? Kinda... landed really hard. And his leg looks really bad. Aaaand he's passed out. I think there might be something wrong with him, and I'm way too small to carry him.

... help?
warriorswolftail: ([Sokka] chillaxin')
Uhm, yeah... Sokka's not here right now!

Leave a message, I guess?
warriorswolftail: (Default)
Player Information

Name: JeniOctavia
Age: 26
AIM SN: jenioctavia
email: jenioctavia@gmail.com
Have you played in an LJ based game before? Yes, several.
Bonus: How did you hear about Siren's Pull? [livejournal.com profile] zuzukins

Character Information )
warriorswolftail: ([Sokka] run!)
Name- Jeni

LJ- [livejournal.com profile] jenioctavia

Email address- jenioctavia@gmail.com

AIM/MSN/YIM (optional)- jenioctavia

Character, series- Sokka, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Character journal- [livejournal.com profile] warriorswlftail

Character type- Main

Digimon partner- Hawkmon > Orcamon > WereGarurumon > AncientGarurumon

D-Comm colours/symbol- Blue/White with a boomerang crossing a black-bladed sword

Imported from another RP?- No

Character Information )
warriorswolftail: ([Sokka] personal space... invaded!)
How's My Driving Flying?

 
This is your standard, typical HMD post for Sokka of Avatar: The Last Airbender as played by [livejournal.com profile] jenioctavia for the RP communities [livejournal.com profile] digital_dive  and [livejournal.com profile] sirenspull .

If you have anything to say, positive or negative, please drop it here. Try to keep the flames to a minimum, as general rudeness and the like will be otherwise ignored. Be nice to me, I'll be nice to you, no matter the crit.
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