MOREAU, vega arlette

[vega arlette moreau]

Character Name: Vega Arlette Moreau
Nickname(s): Vegs, Eagle, Woman, Vegetable
Gender: Female
Age: 18
Grade: Senior
Sexuality: Straight
Clique: Geek
Weight: 128lbs.
Height: 5'8
Appearence:

Vega. When citizens see her, they see the toughened, war calloused outside of a Naval Aviator. Strong jawline, defined stomach muscles, womanly jacked arms, a few tattoos, dog tags. At least thats what she wants people to think. Shes got a tattoo (eagle across her back), dog tags from her grandfather, the muscles, the jawline.

Miss Moreau is five foot eight with a very lean and muscled build. Her skin is lightly tanned, hands are calloused from the joint-stick shes held for years of her life, ever since she was seventeen. Her hair is a deep auburn with golden and bright red highlights that come out in the sun. It falls down in whispy layers to about her shoulders, parted to the side, and a few lazy strands drift over her forehead. Her eyes are hued a green with grey streaks towards the middle that become transparent as they grow towards the outside. Her calf muscles and stomach muscles are defined from years at war and exercising as much as possible, but she's still a little squishy. Her cheeks are high and defined, nose straight and perked a bit. Her neck is strong, shoulders broad and wiry, her natural body a swaying curve thats not too much of an hour glass.

When dealing with clothing, Vega is usually seen wearing desert camouflage pants tucked inside or over work boots, a dirt streak tank top with a blouse over that, and her dog tags dangling. If on a casual day, she wears bermudas, a cami, and Converse because those're the best sneakers in the world to her. Horseback riding, though, proves different. Vega wears dark blue boot cut jeans, a pair of Ariat work boots, and black show chaps with a metallic blue fringe. Thats western. For english, black and dark brown breeches with tall boots and a small heel and a neatly tucked white blouse.

Personality:

Vega is cunning and sarcastic, using her wits to get her by. She has military-like tactics, and seems like a tough soldier on the outside, but in truth, is very different once you crack her open.

She's shy and extremely timid, but once she warms up to you, she's very opinionated but kind and caring. Vega has high tolerance for arrogance, rudeness, and smart alecs, but it's a pet peeve when others dont pay respect to any of her friends. Vega gets distracted by little things such as a pretty rock or a beautiful scenery. She absolutely adores charming men, but doesn't remain clingy to them. She's afraid of things flying at her such as rocks, leaves, etc. There are times when Vega clues others out and has a laser focus, not listening to anyone else and intends on getting what needs to be done, done.

Vega does have a fascination for old world money, history, and crashed aircrafts, as she is seen mostly wandering around, looking for antiques that no one else has found. Especially with planes. All over her room are fragments of wooden propellers, pieces of landing gear, and sheet metal from wings. Eventually, she'll make a collage from it, but continually draws pictures of planes from the little real life refs she has.

Vega is classified as a nerd because she's a smartass and has no problem smarting others out. She has a deep love for planes and other aeronautical machines and knows everything there is to them. She's in AP Calculus and AP Chem and Physics, works as a plane engineer at the local airport, and keeps the application for the Navy in her drawer of her desk.

History:

Vega was born on May 21st under Franco-American parents. She was an only child and spoke French for most of her child years, then had to deal with ESL teachers to become fluent in English. She was a rambunctious child, always running around and begging her dad to bring her the airport so that she could sit and watch the planes take off. Her deep passion for planes kept growing and when she could finally read a lot of big words, Vega took out multiple books from the library on aeronautics, different types of planes, and how to become a pilot.

When Vega hit the age of thirteen, she made up her mind that she would join the United States Navy as a fighter pilot for FA/E-18 Super Hornets. She wanted to be at the rank of commander. And she was going to do that by going through college NROTC to become an officer.

Middle school years were tough for Vega because she had a strange name, she had a funny accent, and because she wanted to do something for her country, unlike others who smoked pot and sat themselves in front of a TV and have no llife. She passed through with high honors and straight As, and continued that through high school.

High school proved to be a bit easier for her. It was more of a challenge, there was JROTC where she became top, and there were people who she could connect with. Vega became a geek because of her grades and general knowledge. She exercised a lot and kept herself fit, becoming G.I. Jane of the senior class.

As of this moment, Vega is quiet and preparing herself for college, and intends to remain that way till someone notices her, like say a guy or a good best friend. She till works out regularly and flies every day, gets her hands greasy from engines, and manages to eat and sleep with all the time she spends doing that. She enjoys herself though, which is a good thing.

Sample Rp:

Beaches were different in each part of the world. Though they may all look the same (except some might be sanded with black or with soil instead of sand), they were different. It was like everything had a personality, a purpose, and an attitude. You learn that in war. A trip over to Iraq and doing your tour, you see things different when you come back. Something popping was the beginning of a round, the whine of a firework was the screech of a bullet, a truck back firing was a mortar exploding, an IED setting off, or a car bomb blowing. The sand was the ocean and the cities and oasis was the land. The bloody, manslaughter soaked land. The smell of maple glazed ham in the oven was your best friend and commanding officer burning, bits and pieces of body parts everywhere. The water of the ocean turned invisibly red with blood of soldiers and infidels, insurgents that were extremists and extremists that killed little kids.You don't know how luxurious your life is, until you've done tour.

Ma'am, that was a really strong, beautiful speech.

Vega looked over her shoulder, silver eyes dancing quietly in curiosity. Her auburn eyebrow rose up in question at this little old woman before she realized that what she thought entirely was spoken. ..Oh..Sorry you had to hear that. She sheepishly smiled and continued stripping changing from the safety of her car door. She pulled off her tank, tattooed shoulders working soundly, yet groaning as if they haven't been used in a while. Vega fixed the straps of her bikini, making sure it looked good with her hip tattoo before pursuing to pull off her shorts and wrap a sarong around her waist. She had to say, she did look pretty sexy.

Ma'am, I also have another question.

Vega mentally sighed, yet plastered a smile on her lips. How may I help you? Her voice sounded a little too sugar coated but whatever, she was in a happy mood anyways. She leaned against her Charger, resting her chin on her tan arms and rocking her hips from side to side.

Were you in the army? The old woman was curious, apparently.

No, I was in the Navy. Commander Vega Moreau, USS Enterprise, Iraq war veteran. Joined when I was seventeen to the reserves so I could go through college and come out as an officer, then I went to active duty. I fly the F-16s. Known as Eagle. Moreau couldn't help but quietly explain this. A lot asked her about her time, and she was still on active duty, just on leave at the moment. It was nice, to be able to come home for thirty days a year and see all her friends, strike up a little fling with a guy, then leave and forget all about him. Flying was the best thing she ever did, and she forget a lot of things, up there in the clouds. You own the skies.

The old woman smiled and left her alone, figuring that it was best to leave her alone. Vega watched for a second then shrugged, slamming her car door and hoisting the beach bag over her shoulder. She walked barefoot on the pristine sand, wincing at how hot it was from the Hawaiian sun. Vega set the stuff down, fixing her umbrella, waving to a couple people she knew, then setting up her blanket, a boat chair (yes one of those comfy chairs that fold and are made entirely out of bendable stuff and cotton), and a little stand that held a glass of Arizona lemon tea and a book, she was good for the day. Might as well grab a tan while she was at it.

Celeb:

Susan Coffey

Out Of Character:

Name's Mikayla, I'm nineteen years old and have been serving in the US Navy since I was seventeen and I'm currently a petty officer. I've been roleplaying for five years, and you can email me, aim me, or pm me. You can find me at CAUTION, Shadowplay, Adrenaline Rush, Bad Romance.

[( tahlia )]

Welcome to the site Mikayla! Nice job on the application. Vega seems like she'll be a really strong character and I can't wait to see how that works with some of the other characters on the site. I really like how unique she is and you've done a great job of portraying that. Now that you've been accepted, make your claims in Step Three and you're ready to start posting. Have fun.