Taliya Paris

[Jamie Ryan]

Status: Mid-Section

Name: Taliya Kelsey Paris (sometimes Tally)

Age: 24 - Birthday: September 30

Occupation back home: Surfer

Appearance:

Nationality: Greek-American

Residence: Los Angeles, California, USA

Skills: surfing, good hand-eye coordination, moves quickly

Weaknesses/bad habits: can be very depressing at time, chatters her teeth when nervous (then tries to hide it)

Frequent moods/expressions: rather dark, kind, can be happy/bright when she wants to be

Reason for flight: Surfing competition

Item from wreckage: dark purple nail polish and nail kit from her carry on luggage

[Jamie Ryan]

Trigger:
abclost.proboards40.com/index.cgi?board=rpggame&action=display&thread=1191465745&page=3#1192828050

“Come along, Taliya,” Electra called. “We mustn’t be late!”

“Grandma, why do I have to wear this?” she asked, tugging at her outfit. Taliya hated the white tank top, short white skirt, white tennis shoes, and black lightweight jacket. It wasn’t her style.

“Cyrano and his son are very wealthy people with a wonderful business. Your mother was supposed to marry him.”

“The son?”

“Cyrano, the father! Honestly, Taliya, what are they teaching you in those American schools?”

Taliya rolled her eyes as they went into the car and rode through the Greek streets. After ten minutes, they approached a large mansion with Greek architecture. As the car pulled up, a butler opened the door and helped Electra, Kiron, and Taliya out. A man in his thirties and a teenage boy, both handsome, came out.

“It is wonderful to see you Electra and Kiron,” the older man said as her grandmother embraced him.

“It is indeed great, isn’t it, Cyrano?” Electra shoved Taliya forward; she stood there awkwardly staring at the ground. “This is our granddaughter.”

Cyrano smiled kindly at her. “You look very much like your mother.” Taliya nodded. Cyrano lightly moved his son forward.

“And your son looks much like you, Cyrano,” Kiron told him.

Taliya and the boy looked at each other.

“I am Demetri,” he shot her the same warm smile as his father.

“Taliya.”

The two smiled at each other shyly for a moment until Cyrano spoke.

“Taliya, do you play tennis?”

“Yea…yes,” she corrected herself.

“Perhaps you can give Demetri a challenge that I cannot. Demetri, if you would…”

Demetri nodded and led Taliya into the house to the tennis court where another young man stood.

“Evander, this is Taliya,” Demetri told him. “Taliya, this is my friend Evander.”

The two shook hands. “So you’re going to teach this guy about tennis American style?”

“I don’t know about that…”

Demetri tossed her a racket. “You may choose any side of the court you wish.”

Taliya went to the other side. Demetri served and Taliya hit the ball with full force. Within five minutes, Evander was laughing.

“Demetri, never has someone beaten you so quickly!”