Username ;;I'm resolution, nice to meet you c:
Full Name ;;Jaime Lena Bäcker.
It's a fully German name, from first to last.
Gender ;;Jaime is a female; even if she could be male, she wouldn't to me.
In addition, she's also heterosexual, or straight.
Personality ;;Jaime is just a girl that loves to have some fun. She'll go to places deemed dangerous and handle them such as an amusement park. She's the kind that'll look death and fear straight in the eye and have the confidence remaining to say no. One the down side, she's prone to mood swings, though they are rarer the more extreme they get. She has almost a bit too much confidence in herself and her decisions but unfortunately, as elementary as it may sound, she hates sharing. Since her younger days, everything was her's, her's, her's. It's still something she's working to get over, though it's coming along to the point at which she'll tolerate people asking to take her stuff and she'll let them have it for a few minutes. On another note, this dragon is quite fearless. She isn't afraid of much and actually likes the pressure and guilt taking a long-shot risk gives you.
Favorite Activity ;;Believe it or not, Jaime just loves driving cars. No, not the minivans you see on the highways, piled up with people, but fast cars. Like racecars. One of her dreams is to go to the NASCAR, though she's a while from it. Here's a short story of one of her more recent practice drives with her uncle:
A steady cerulean paw extended to push the leather stick into drive, and her uncle's touchy red and silver striped 2013 Dodge Viper SRT as it launched out of the pits. She narrowed her eyes; though her mental illness had made her mind drift before, her determination to be an exceptional driver pushed it into focus; it seemed this was the only thing she could focus on. The track was especially difficult that day, and although it was just a practice run, Jaime had to analyze the concrete for dips, puddles and swerves to watch for. The car was truly moving now; the gauge read halfway between the 90 mark and the 100 mark. She heard her uncle's voice in her head, and a black booted foot slammed on the gas pedal down the straightaway. The gauge instantly rose to the 150 mark, and bugs spattered against the windshield. She gave a slight grin under her helmet and tapped the gas pedal down, watching as the red point rose to 160, 170, 180, almost to 190! She would have pushed herself, though the white flag by the pits suggested her run had been completed. She gradually decreased, careful of her spacing, and pulled into the pits. Opening the door and unlatching her bulky helmet, a sense of satisfaction rose over her. She had accomplished something that no other 19 year old did for fun. She had almost reached 200 miles per hour in a car, a real race car.
Art ;;here, by me(resolution)
Likes and Dislikes ;; 
ƸӜƷ
-Isle 
-Snowflake
-Midnight
-Space 
-Static 
-Niko
-Boots
-Babe 
-Skipper 
-Bubbles 
-Lavender