Full Name - Emi 'Seattle' Izumi Hikari
Age - 17
Sex - Female
Crests - N/A
Appearance -
Click here for picturePersonality - Seattle is not the nicest girl on the planet, at best. She's bossy, demanding, and when she wants something, she wants it
now. She's not afraid of giving out black eyes to get it done, or acting her way out of a speeding ticket. Far from girly, she does put on a good front when needed (tickets and cops, again). Her methods are...cruel, if you want to say. Hey, Seattle (the city) was a harsh place to grow up, you had to be quick and witty besides if you wanted to survive. Seattle (the girl) brought that much back with her, along with the accent, and isn't afraid to use either.
Oh, and why doesn't she like to drift her own car much? Too much work, in her owns words. Apparently she had a harsh spin-out one time, but she refuses to admit it. Her friends say otherwise, but her friends also get punched for saying so.
Personal Belongings - ID, keys, cash, credit card, and a small pocket knife is usually hidden somewhere.
History - Believe it or not, Emi was actually born in Seattle, Washington (thus the nickname). Her parents were first-generation immigrants from Japan, so Emi grew up with the Japanese language at home, and English at school. Seattle (the city) was a sizable place, and drifting was commonplace (Formula D was held yearly), and Emi learned early on that she loved the sport. After her eleventh birthday, her parents decided to move back to Japan. Emi took up the name Seattle, because of her accent and her English/American influence. Since moving back, she fell in quickly with the drift crowd, but seems to spend more time in the passenger seat than driving herself.
Likes - Boys, boys, boys, drifting (usually in the passenger seat), being a 'candy girl' (basically the girls who stand around in the parking lot looking pretty), computers, electronics, any kind of mechanics.
Dislikes - Being wrong, hitting things (with her car, anyway, she's perfectly fine hitting
people with her
fist), being told she's ugly or can't do something (which is usually met with a fist), not being able to fix something.
Defense - II [2]
Offense - II [2]
Speed - II [2]
Style - IIII [4]
Class SchedulePeriod One - Martial Arts
Period Two - History
Period Three - Art
Period Four - Math
Period Five - Science
Period Six - English
PersonalEnemies -
Rivals -
Acquintances -
Friends -
Good Friends -
Crushes -
Girlfriends/Boyfriends -
Car: Toyota AE86 [Trueno & Panda Paint] - The Budgie
Top Speed - 4
Acceleration - 3
Drift - 4
Looks - 3
Parts - Turbo 2, Air Filter, Cold Air Intake, Weight Reduction 3, Front & Rear Spoiler, Rear Bumper, Side Skirts, Carbon Fibre Hood.
Nissan 350Z [Performance M6 & Silverstone Paint] - Catfish
Top Speed - 5
Acceleration - 5
Drift - 5
Looks - 5
Parts - Turbo 2, Brake Controller, Brake Callipers, Coilovers, Performance Springs, Drivetrain, Limited Slip Differential, Weight Reduction 3, Front & Rear Spoiler, Rear Bumper, Side Skirts, Grills.
Honda S2000 [Roadster & Suzuka Blue Metallic Paint] - Dial
Top Speed - 5
Acceleration - 4
Drift - 4
Looks - 4
Parts - Turbo 2, Air Filter, Cold Air Intake, Brake Callipers, Coilovers, Performance Springs, Limited Slip Differential, Weight Reduction 3.
Referred by -
Gold Stone Academy Role-Play Sample -
It was tea time in the dinning rooms. Stupid, dreary, dreadful tea time. Well-dressed ladies sat about and talked quietly and giggled about stupid little gossip-like things. Gabrielle hated it almost as much as she hated her Mother.
Though, as much was expected. Ms. Marthe (quite over the death of her husband, though keeping his name was convinient) was another giggle-box that chatted over perfect white porcelain teacups with gold trims. In her gold jewlery and lace-covered gloves, and latest-style dress, she made quite a show of hiding her mouth as she giggled quietly behind her gloved hand with the other ladies. They all looked the same, only in different colours. Gabrielle couldn't stand it.
When at last the talk was turned towards how incredibly delicious the tarts were, and how warm the tea stayed, and how prompt the service was, Gabrielle gave up. She stood, throwing her napkin down. This earned her a public scolding from her Mother, which she lifted her nose at. The other ladies at the table watched carefully, absorbing the scene to gossip about at another table at the next tea party. Gabrielle was quite satisfied to give them some absolutely delicious and savoury gossip to be repeated later.
Gabrielle raised her voice a little, only to be scolded again. With a huff, she pushed past the serving man, which almost made him drop the tray of coffee he was carrying. Gabrielle glared at him and stormed off across the roomful of ladies, each of them watching her. She was muttering in French, and looked like she was about to kill the next person in her path - "The girl would never do that, Rosie! She's a sweet thing, I talked to her Mother just the other night..." - if she was given the chance.
She wasn't. Everybody jumped out of her way like she was God himself, personified in the body of a woman. Or maybe the devil. Or maybe both. Gabrielle would have laughed, if she ever did, about how stupid and shallow they were. Except that she never laughed, so it nulled that point.
She plopped herself down at an empty table, scowling at ladies and servers as they walked by. The ladies walked, anyway, because they were oh-so-dignified, but the serving men and women scurried at the sight of her. At least Mother was far away, across the room now. Gabrielle would have gone outside, but the sun would have burned her skin, and that made her look horrible. She would have gone to her rooms, but her Mother was likely to find her there, and give her another talk. Gabrielle didn't want that. Other than that, the rest of the ship was dreary and dreadful and quite boring. And dull? Had she called the ship dull yet? The entire trip was dull. Dull, dreary, dreadful, horrible, boring and not worth the hassle.
And so she sat, grumbling away to herself in French as a serving woman placed a cup of tea on the table and ran off with her full tray. She sat, her favourite hat forgotten at the last table, arguing with herself about the meaning of life. She sat and sat, and soon forgot what had happened earlier, but grumbled away anyway while she sipped her tea.
Hikari, Emi
