Character Name: Eleanor Thornton
Character Age: 27
Character Occupation: High school English professor and yoga instructor
Gender: Female
Appearance: At 5’10 and a strong 150lbs, Eleanor stands quite a bit taller than most of her students (and co-workers). Blue-grey hair falls in feathered lengths to just past her shoulders, though most occasions it is tidily pulled up into a neat bun at the nape of her neck. Her fairly pretty, lightly tanned face is home to a set of grey eyes that most consider kind and alert – unless you are a student, and then they are all-knowing pools of steel of an unforgiving ninja.
Due to her height and second occupation, she is long and lean and incredibly supple, her arms being of an elegant length and her legs shapely in only the way a line of curved, toned muscle can be. She is well proportioned aside from this, not too heavy on top, not too rotund in the bottom area. Instead, she gives the appearance of a languid feline mixed with subtle charm, a hard look for anyone to pull off.
When “on duty” she wears fitted cream slacks over which is layered camisoles and cardigans, hardly ever adorned with jewelry (aside from the occasional bracelet or charm necklace). However, her “off duty” wear consists of yoga pants – full length – and lightweight “parkour” shoes designed for that special free-runner in mind. They can be worn when she is out and about, and don’t need any special treatment; they are designed to take a beating. She tops off her designer look with t-ehirts or tank tops, all soft and easy to move in, for yoga and building-hopping alike.
When seriously training however, she will pull out the big boys, as set of specialized shoes made for one thing and one thing only. She’ll add funky parkour gloves to the mix, as well as a specially designed bag, made exclusively for the use of skirting normal methods of getting from point A to point B.
Personality: This lovely lady is generally well liked by the staff ad students alike at her school. She is stern in her classroom, and is not fond of “free” periods; she works her students until time to leave, and hands out homework on a regular basis. She isn’t a hard-nosed bitch, however, and will strive to help failing or troubled students in any manner she can. Though some of the children in her class believe her to be a ninja of sorts (see: abilities), Eleanor allows them to think whatever they want about her and her personal life; very rarely does she correct what is thought of her by the general school populace. This has led to her being unanimously agreed-upon as untouchable by rumor, a feat nearly unheard-of in most other classrooms; many a teacher has fallen victim to those most deadly of all things: high school rumor.
She believes in keeping both he mind and body in top shape, so she routinely flexes her mind with new studies and limbers her body with yoga and free-running. Her easy, calm nature tends to rub off on those that surround her, even children and teachers alike. This isn’t to say she is all-popular, or perfect; no, she has her enemies, but she thinks it would be a waste of time and a lessening of herself to react to their childish antics.
Speaking of children, Eleanor is of the mind that they will sort things out on their own, if given enough time; however, there are occasions in which it is necessary for an adult to step in, and if that happens to be her, she will attempt to be fair (which can be difficult at times when dealing with bratty, spoilt, unforgiving teenagers).
Skills: While she isn’t the end-all, be-all of the feminine world, this blue-haired woman is quite athletic in some areas, and woefully lacking in expertise in others. She excels in – and teaches – advanced yoga, and has been practicing the art for over eleven years. Her body in incredibly flexible, almost to the point of being double jointed, and its supple muscle is ten times as strong than most women weight-lifters.
She has also picked up free-running while in the States, and it is a skill that she has used to keep in shape mind and body. Her medical knowledge is rudimentary but there, as she took a training course as part of her teaching requirement. Eleanor also has the keen ability to appear anywhere and anytime a student thinks they are safe from a teacher. This ability extends to knowing when a student is hiding something from her in class (passing notes, texting, general disruptive behavior), and generally having “cat-like” reflexes. Her students seem to think she is a ninja due to these frequent nature of these occurrences; she doesn’t say anything to dissuade them.
She speaks English, Japanese, and is learning Korean. She is also a very good cook.
Weaponry: Eleanor isn’t one to use weapons; in fact, she prefers to run away before reaching a confrontation. Her unique skill set – that of free-running and yoga – gives her the flexibility to go just about anywhere, making catching the woman something very difficult indeed. She’s yet to actually use the simple, deadly Tantō (see: history) given to her, but she has a basic understanding of knives from her kitchen experience and one night-class that taught self-defense.
Background: Born and bred in Southern California, Eleanor was raised by her single mother in an apartment bigger than the classrooms she would eventually teach in. Though not wealthy, her momma always wanted to provide, whether it be food, clothing, or second-hand toys; luckily for Angie, her kid was prone to playing by herself, with not much else than a card board box and some crayons. Like all (most) mothers, she strove to teach her child the basic truth in life, the first being “don’t end up like your momma”.
Eleanor didn’t care about how much money they had for the longest time, that is until she reached high school age. There, as what happens to most children with raging hormones and nothing to do, the students in her class mocked the shoes on her feet or the not-so-stylish cut of her messy hair; little did they know, teased Eleanor would become quite the desired woman.
She took up yoga at a studio far smaller than her apartment as a way to express some form of control over her life, and to release a bit of that pent up anger from school. It became a calling of sorts, one that freed up her mind as it limbered up her body. She advanced rather quickly, and before long she was teaching a handful of the few students that trickled into the studio.
Eleanor made her way through high school without too much effort, though she wasn’t terribly good with mathematics. Her big break came the day a student – a senior who had little love for the girl – dared her to show off a bit of the “yoga shit” she’d been practicing for the past four years. So, finally reaching the end of her rather long rope, the blue-haired girl simply smiled, and then bent backwards over the seat of a desk, hands and feet planted firmly on either side. Exhaling, she flexed her core and with a mighty feat of strength she lifts her legs, one at a time, and flipped over the desk completely.
She was quite popular after that.
Soon it was time for big, bad college, and with a handful of decent scholarships, she made it all the way to the East Coast to attend a moderately famous school. After teaching yoga, and excelling in English courses, she found her calling: high school teacher. Eleanor continued with her yoga, but it wasn’t long before she found something else to add to her repertoire, something that would bounce her along the exercise course without confining her to a gym.
Free running.
It wasn’t parkour, her instructor told her; it was dangerous and exciting and acrobatic and not at all structured. So with yoga and free running in hand, she set off again after graduation to a land of Opportunity: Japan. She’d always wanted to teach in a foreign country, to get out from under Uncle Sam’s thumb, and she felt she had hit is right with that lovely land. They had serenity and fast-paced lives, traits she thought perfect for her new life.
She taught in the school systems for six years, eventually being moved to an empty slot at the Fujimi High School. Eleanor found the classes to be wonderful, as many of the students were excelling in their respective areas, and the clubs were top notch. However, not six months into her teaching career at Fujimi, she received the unfortunate news that her mother had passed away. Planning a trip home, she took a few days off from school; the first day, before her flight home, she decided to go once more to her yoga studio, hoping for a relaxing start to an expected long few days.
After her class, an older woman – much older – stopped her outside of the toilets and offered her a gift for all she had done, and as a gesture of respect from a generation to another: it was a Tantō, a shinogi made from the broken sword of the woman’s father before World War I. It was given as the older woman had none other to give it to, and felt someone who respected and appreciated such things should be the one to have it.
It was this blind luck that may save her.
On her way home that morning, walking home in the cool air, she noticed a distinct lack of people around her apartment building; before she could enter the complex, she saw something that made her stomach turn: two people, looking diseased and mentally unsound, were eating on the body of a neighbor form just down the way.
It seemed an impossible thing, but it was happening nonetheless. It was then she heard sirens and the wailing of alarms, and could feel the oppressive air of terror setting in. Fleeing quickly to her apartment, she locked herself in a turned on the news. Instantly images of the unknown were filling her vision, as the talking heads tried to explain away the horrors she’d just witnessed. It was possible, she had thought, that this was just a terrible dream, but after hours of newscasts, the reality set in: this was real.
Though it felt surreal, she decided that her best course of action was not to stay put; she was only one woman, with a flexible body, teaching degree, and a sword-thing she had no skill in using, so how was she to make it alone?
So she packed a bag with the essentials, and set out for the main gatherings of police and military support, thinking possibly they could be off assistance.
What a silly notion.
RP Sample: It had been roughly thirty minutes since she'd left her apartment, and already she had the sense that things weren't as...simple as originally thought. Not that a mass infestation of diseased, undead looking creatures could be considered in any way "simple". No, she was down on the street level of the city - not her favourite place - but it was one that she found herself inexplicably drawn to.
She knew it was dangerous, and she knew that one of the things out to get her in the night could be around any corner, but small, childish hope had risen in her that somewhere, somehow, a person with a plan, who new what to do and where to go, would be found along the roads, perhaps even in a car.
That is when a reminder of how bad things truly were ambled down the sidewalk, utterly unaware of her presence, but shuffling along all the same. She didn't yet know the rules to these things, how to deal with them; the last she'd heard on the newscast before heading out was they were to be avoided at all costs, and that close contact would result in serious consequence.
IT was this thought that brought her normally energetic legs to a slow, heavy stop. If she ran, would it follow? She had nothing else as an option, no way to defend should it come; the entire area had seemed devoid of all life - undead or otherwise - for the better part of an hour, and now that she'd finally come face-to-face with one, her mind froze. Oh, it had been easier when she'd seen them eating a friendly neighborhood landlady, when the reaction was to flee as soon as possible, without thought, without reason; this was different. She saw it, but it didn't seem to care, if indeed such things could care, and her mind, once stutter-stepped in thought, churned out ideas in a smooth, efficient manner.
She should flee. Not run, flee. She was certain now that the thing didn't notice her presence, didn't take interest in her proximity - a slowly closing ten yards - but what if it reacted to movement? What about sound? Did it use smell? As the thing shuffled ever closer, Eleanor made up her mind: bolt like hell for the nearest overhang.
This is exactly what she did.
A shop that sold a small variety of everything stood dark, an empty shell of itself as much of the tiny store had been ravaged by looters. But its sturdy metal overhang was just close enough for her to reach. Of course, that would mean dashing closer to the creature - a man with only one eye, doused in blood, and a limp that made the word "limp" an understatement - but this options seemed the best from the other dozen or so around her: the overhang would provide good access to the roof above, making the beginning of her trek across the tops of the city a tad bit easier.
She had a feeling she should take easy whenever it came.
Licking her lips, she springs once on her toes, and then hurls herself at the store overhang. Nine yards...eight...seven...And then the ledge was there. Not bothering to slow, Eleanor vaults off the pavement to plant a foot on the rough concrete outer face of the shop, her body twisting with the added force and her hands reaching for the overhang.
She caught it, and with minimal effort, pulled herself up on top of the platform. The metal ledge groaned and grated in protest of her weight, but it did not falter. Adrenaline had given her a boost this time - as only running for your life can bring - but she knew such stunts could only be continued if she kept calm; the world may be falling apart, but that didn't mean she had to.
Turning, she peers down at the thing, and was greeted by the sight of it waling with quite a bit of purpose towards the shop, its shuffle containing a bit more get-up-and-go. It didn't look at her per se, more like it looked in her direction. With a thoughtful frown, she reached down and picked up a dirty, bedraggled shoe some local kid tossed up as a likely prank. Heftng it once, she tossed it across the narrow street to land amongst a pile of metal rubbish bins.
Immediately, the monster-thing turned and struggled with all its might limp to the cans the shoe had been unceremoniously thrown at. Sound. Gotta be quiet. Fast, quiet. Eleanor, you should have gotten on that plane, chickadee. Confident now that she had at least a minor grasp of how they operated, the woman turns and is greeted by the sight of a man holding what looked to be a chef's knife and a woman holding a broken, rather sharp broomstick. They were glaring at her from behind the pane of glass that was the second-story window, and they didn't seem at all pleased to have her there.
The man shoves open the glass, and as it hisses open, he grunts at her, words of "get out", "step off" and other general not-niceties - followed at times with rather vulgar language - were tossed her way. The kitchen knife he held in both hands was waved at her with the intent to scare; she had to admit, in some way, she was.
"Whoa, hey, okay. Wow, that is...that's a big knife, so I'm just going to go..."
In a move that left both inhabitants of that second floor apartment stunned, Eleanor the high school teacher and yoga instructor reached up, and with a slight hop, caught the ledge of the rooftop, using the wall for momentum as she slung her body to the top.
Now, she needed to get supplies...
Wed Dec 18, 2013 11:07 pm by 
