Mane: Yellow/Orange. Firelike.
Tail: See Mane.
Eyes: Her eyes are actually individually colored. Her right eye is a deep blue, while her left is a bright blood red.
Body: A white coat atop a somewhat petite frame.
Cutie Mark: A raindrop with a flame burning inside of it.
Age: Adult, early twenties.
Personality: A little quiet, but pipes up whenever she has an opening to inject a funny comment or remark. She tends not to make friends with everyone she comes in contact with, but the ones she does befriend, she is as loyal as can be.
Likes: Traveling, reading, drawing, writing, and occasionally singing.
Dislikes: Above all, she hates fighting amongst her friends. She tries to be a mediator when others disagree. She is also annoyed when somepony ignorantly neglects their responsibilities, as she is often made to have to cover for them.
History: [In my original concept of Solice, I made her the younger sister of Spitfire. In accordance to the rules, however, I'm forced to come up with a new backstory.]
As a filly, Solice was stricken with bipolar disorder. Somewhere along the line, her disorder earned her her cutie mark by personifying both side of the proverbial coin. Now an adult, she has matured and learned to control her disorder. She occasionally has episodes where her disorder reemerges, but they are minor and happen only occasionally. Solice is currently unemployed, and takes joy in traveling when she gets the chance. Her closest friends are Evergreen, Autumn Haze, and her pet bat, Sonar.
Example RP segment: #3BREEEEEEEEEE!
Solice reached for her alarm clock, her face still buried in a pillow. Her hoof clumsily knocked the blaring machine to the floor, which kept screaming at her to get up. She groggily lifted her head and yawned as she turned her neck from side to side with a satisfying "Crack!"
Solice rolled over and sat up in her bed, doing the same with her back, and was rewarded with another crack and increased mobility. She turned her attention to the whining hunk of metal on the floor and reached to pick it up. She came up unsuccessful and groaned. Slowly, she threw the covers the rest of the way off and slid toward the edge of the bed. Planting her hooves on the floor, she picked up the clock and silenced it. After setting it back on her nightstand, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she made her way toward the bathroom.
After getting all of her morning routines out of the way, she made her way to the kitchen. She hadn't eaten since the afternoon before, and her stomach was making the rumblies that only food would satisfy.
"Darn, pantry's bare," she mumbled. She would have to get groceries soon, but she was too hungry to wait. She decided to go to a restaurant nearby, and headed for the door.