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 Posted: Sat Dec 08, 2007 10:54 am
So, do any of you have characters that you'd really like the chance to play, or maybe play again? We all do, right?
How about a setting you'd like to RP in?
Well, the problem comes when we don't have an RP for the character to fit into, or characters and plot to fit the setting. This is where this thread comes in.
Post your characters; a profile outline would be the neatest for appearance's sake, or a summary of your setting. And if they appeal to people or give them plot bunnies, they can offer you a chance to use them, either in a group thread that they're starting or in a one on one.
It's also a chance to showcase some of the characters you're more proud of, if you want to be vain about it.
Simple, right?
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Posted: Sat Dec 08, 2007 11:00 am
I'll start.
Note: I created this character months ago. He's been compared to something from The Departed, though I don't think I'd seen the movie until after it was created. It's just a feel of the film, sort of thing, I guess.
He's undercover, in the guise of a cop, but he's struggling with a drug addiction and strained loyalties that are making his job very risky.
Works best for a modern set RP.My character
Name || Kenneth Douglas MacCrimmon
But they call me || Kenneth to most, by preference; Mackie to 'friends', and Kenny to his Father.
Age || Twenty-eight
Appearance || Being, for appearance's sake, a cop, Kenneth attempts to maintain and convey a clean-cut and refined image. The most typical first impression he gives, would be that of a man- dedicated to his work. If he ever seems distracted, or unavailable, it's guaranteed that he'll use some new case as an alibi. He's also been known to come in with dark circles under his eyes, after a particularly 'long night', yet he always has paperwork or some new discovery with which to explain it away.
MacCrimmon's hair is red and cropped fairly short. He is of average height and his looks are nothing outstanding, though he might almost pull off a rugged charm, if not for the facade he'd been hiding behind.
His build has changed, however. Once a fairly fit and healthy officer; Kenneth has begun losing weight, albeit slowly. Others have taken notice, of course, and the curiosity that's been aroused, requires him to work out more often and, occasionally, to force himself to eat, in order to counter the effects of his recently altered lifestyle.
He has a few minor scars from brawls outside of work, and the occasional scuffle, or chase, when bringing in criminals.
He's also considering a tattoo.
History || Kenny MacCrimmon was born in Perth, Scotland twenty-eight years ago, in mid May; three days after his mother's birthday. She'd always said he was the best birthday gift a woman could ask for. --And, oh, she'd be proud of him now, alright- Detective MacCrimmon, indeed. He'd always been glad that his parents had never found out what he'd gotten himself into.
His father, Michael, had been working with The National Trust, restoring and preserving old buildings. He'd also been doing work individually on the side, specializing in lime and granite as building materials. It wasn't a chance career either, but one of convenience. Hell, Perth was grey, Kenneth remembered that much, a 'city of stone'. -But that wasn't accurate anymore either, was it? In the late Nineties, when the UK government and the Scottish Executive had re-examined the definition of a city, Perth had been omitted from the approved list. Once 'The Fair City', it came to be known as a former city; "The Perfect Centre".
But this hardly made any difference to Kenneth. He'd been dragged away, shortly after his mother's death, in the mid-nineties.
'Mum' had developed lung cancer and faded away slowly, painfully, over two years time. No treatments had helped for long. His father, an avid smoker, blamed himself. His poor wife had never smoked a day in her life, but had spent twenty years with him.
And, within a few months of her passing, Kenneth's father had accepted a job in the United States, the first he could find. It seemed he'd been unable to cope with his wife's death and was hoping to escape it by leaving Scotland.
Kenny'd never quite forgiven his father for taking him away from his home so suddenly, but at sixteen he'd had no choice in the matter. He'd been forced to leave his school, his friends, and even his first girlfriend. They'd only been seeing each other a few months, but leaving Colleen hurt more and anything else. Looking back now, he realized that he was young, still a child, but he'd been convinced, at the time, that the relationship was serious. They'd had difficulty even keeping in touch after the move. His father'd forbidden him from calling, quoting the exorbitant long distance bills as reason enough, but Kenneth suspected that his father simply didn't like the thought of contact with that place.
So, while he felt resentment toward his father, he imagined a similar sense of resentment in return. He began to believe, even to convince himself, that his father'd 'ruined his life' intentionally, that he didn't care that Kenny was unhappy. And the son began to rebel. His father'd never found quite as good a job as he'd had before, and the neighborhood they'd settled in was not the best. The flat was small and cramped- Kenneth was never comfortable inviting anyone over. Not that he'd have wanted his father to meet the sort of friends he'd acquired. Sure, he still pulled decent marks in school, seemed a good kid in appearances, but he'd begun to make connections with morally questionable individuals. It'd started with running errands for a small wage, with a cover as a delivery boy to make it all appear clean on the surface. But he was a smart lad, and people saw this. All sorts of people.
When he graduated from high school, his father gave him a thousand dollars for graduation, as much as he could spare after rent and bills, and Kenneth took the money, of course, and promptly moved out. A portion of the gift was used to pay his first month's rent. He'd chosen a place based on cost. The landlord hadn't demanded a security deposit, nor even a co-signer, but it was clear why. The place was shite. The faucets leaked, the paint was cracked and peeling, but it was his first place, he was on his own, and to Kenneth, it was heaven.
Eventually at twenty, despite it paralleling his father's wishes, Kenneth applied to a local college. His grades and test scores had been good enough to get him a few scholarships, and grants had covered the rest of his tuition. He held a part time job to supplement his under the table work, and made just enough to keep his place, but the original thrill of it all was wearing off. He never finished his business degree. After three years he dropped out. But, as stated, a few key individuals had taken notice of his smarts and resourcefulness. He'd managed a few drops that no one else had been willing to undertake and had avoided the law all this time. He'd never been charged, nor even suspected, for any of his illegal activities. So when it was jokingly stated that young MacCrimmon could walk into the police station and complete a job, right under the cops' noses, he began to think it sounded like quite the challenge, and not a bad idea. Of course he took 'job' literally, and graduated, once again, at the head of his class. This time it wasn't from high school, but from the city's police academy. His father was pleased.
He served five years as a uniformed officer before his promotion to detective. He'd often excelled and distinguished himself, and not once had anyone suspected him of corruption. His reports had always been flawless, he made arrests like any other officer, but his loyalty was always to his real employers. Besides, they paid better for the information.
Personality || MacCrimmon has, it would seem; through dedication, graduated from the rank of 'uniformed officer' to that of detective. The important distinction, in his mind, would be the level and quantity of information one receives post promotion. To himself, he refers to the men in uniform, the beat walkers and such, as 'uninformed' officers. A play on words.
Kenneth is smart, but he is stubborn. He's refused to acknowledge forgiving his father, all this time, despite realizing that he'd actually had his son's interests in mind. It was just too hard for Kenneth to accept and admit. His pride refused to allow it.
He's tricky and quick on his feet; always having an explanation and the words and ability to talk himself out of most any situation.
At first he was only loyal to himself, but he's come to trust the men he works for, and learned to deceive, outsmart, and manipulate the cops down at the precinct.
He may seem difficult to approach at times, often giving off a cold, or distant, air. It's easier to fool people if you don't let them get close. If you don't let them ask questions. He avoids serious relationships for this reason.
Now Mackie was always calm and cool, but something's begun to try his resolve. But his peers at the division haven't noticed, and aren't likely too, as long as he can maintain the front he's held for the past ten years, but occasionally things are trying.
He's known to have a short temper, but is rarely unnecessarily rough, though he was suspended once, for a month, for fighting, -nae beating, a fellow officer for a few off colour comments. One thing that really gets his goat is stereotyping. He's always quick to point out that he's not a Mick, since that stereotype about cops earns endless jokes from countless ignorant Americans who only see his red hair and hear his name. Because, in truth, he is a citizen now and his accent is fairly faint, though his brogue becomes more distinct when he's tired, not thinking about it, or feeling strong emotion. Angry or drunk for example.
Also of note || More recently Mackie's taken to drug use. It is this which has caused the weight loss and nervousness. It's the one thing that could cost him his job, any day, more surely than anything else they might discover. He could attempt to talk his way out of his dealings in organized crime, saying he's working undercover. He could escape arrest, but he couldn't talk his way out of a drug test or, even less, explain the results.
It started small, he's smoked the occasional joint since coming to the states, and has experiment with other things, but sometime in the past year he began acquiring harder gear, having test dosed a few times, early on (similar to being a royal taster, he was chosen to ensure that the bricks weren't cut with anything hazardous).
It's easy enough to get a hold of, though he tries to hide his usage from everyone. He takes what he can get, whatever opportunity presents itself, and he's found he's addicted. He dreads the day when he lets his contacts down, when it becomes impossible to keep his cover at the department, but it's too late to just walk away from it.
In five words, I am || Resourceful, proud, sly, deceitful, addicted This character was used in my American Old West RP. He's an army deserter turned aspiring gold miner. John E. Stanley
The Basics
Name :: John E(ldon) Stanley
But call me :: Johnny
Gender :: Male
Age :: Twenty-one
Title/Rank/Position/Profession :: Private (Deserter)
Appearance/Possessions
Appearance :: Standing about five foot ten, John is of reasonably average height and a similar build. His legs are strong from the sheer amount of riding he did in the army, and he is otherwise fit due to his training and hard work during his youth. He's not really what you'd call muscular, however. Lean would be the best assessment. His hair is fair; a very faintly reddish blond- lighter in the warmer months when the sun bleaches it and simultaneously darkens his complexion. This contrast, to his dismay, makes him a little conspicuous, which is why it's generally cropped short and under a hat. His moustache and beard, when he sports one, are full and a shade darker than his hair. His other features are fairly plain. His eyes are blue, his nose straight, and his jaw line defined, but this is no more than most passably attractive young men are graced with, so he's modest about his appearance.
Style of dress :: Since leaving the Army, under illegal circumstances, Johnny has done his best to blend in. He shed his uniform for breeches, boots, and a standard wardrobe. His army issued Colt Peacemaker and 1872 model Cavalry Saber however, traveled with him. A hat, to replace that he'd worn during his service, was a rather important purchase. It was wide with a curled and bound brim and dipped; front and back.
Always carrying/Meaningful to me :: Despite not being overly zealous about religion, John wears a pendant which was given to him by his mother when he left to join the army. And though he'd probably prefer the story of Saint Martin of Tours, he's settled for St. George as a patron, since it pleased his mother to believe the small disc of silver protected him. Everything else has been or would be abandoned for the sake of remaining out of the army's grasp.
Otherwise of note :: His hands are calloused from work while growing up and from frequent riding. He generally speaks softly and respectfully, preferring not to draw attention to himself, and smiles infrequently.
You Ought to Know
History :: Born the son of ranchers in an area already already predominantly rid of Indians, Johnny had what he considered a relatively dull youth. His days were spent working in fields; minding and harvesting the crops they grew to feed themselves, or managing the livestock with his father. They didn't have much of it, admittedly, but it ensured that he learned to handle horses and cattle from a young age. --Not that he plans to need these skills again, after he strikes it rich.
...But we're getting ahead of ourselves now. Let's jump back slightly less than two years. At the age of nineteen the dreary monotony of farm life finally became too much for the eager and ambitious young man. He'd heard stories of the west... further west than his home, that is, from soldiers passing through on their way to the Indian territories. Now when you're nineteen, tales of fighting the savage natives just sound glorious and exciting. It's enough to make a boy want to enlist; which is just what Johnny did. But by the time you're twenty one and have been in the army a year and a half, and have served as cavalry during some of the skirmishes, it becomes far more real. The stories of scalpings and raids are more terrible when you've seen it all first hand. And perhaps he began to lose his nerve. Perhaps he just discovered that soldiering didn't agree with him. Whatever the case, Johnny realized that he didn't want to be part of anymore killing. Especially when it could be himself who'd fall next.
So the boy who'd enjoyed stories of the brave soldiers began to listen to the stories of the civilians once more. And this time they brought tales of gold to his ears, and thoughts and dreams of wealth to mind. He waited as long as he dared, hoping for an opportunity to present itself, and one day it did. While out on a scouting mission, one he'd had the foresight to bring his civilian clothes on, he made a dash for the west, leaving his post at Fort Laramie in the dust. It'd be a couple hours before anyone would notice he was missing, and even longer before they'd realized that some of his things were gone as well. And he's still hoping they'll never catch up with him. The army is not very forgiving of deserters after all.
Personality :: Johnny, despite his flight to Oregon, is a brave young man. It takes some amount of courage to join the army in the first place, and to spend more than a year fighting for or defending your country, but killing and danger gets to most everyone eventually. And Johnny turned out to have less of a stomach for it than some. In short, he'll do what must be done, until a better opportunity presents himself. Unfortunately as in the recent scenario, sometimes the danger is greater than the one he's fleeing. Thus you might say he's a little rash, which would be accurate, but he's convinced that he's making the right choice for himself, which is what's important to him.
Due to this outlaw status and distinct (in his mind) appearance, he's a little twitchy around Indians and avoids soldiers, fearing that one or the other will recognize him. It's a little paranoid, admittedly, but it's this personality that's going to keep him alive and out of the Army's grasp.
As stated previously, he is quiet and reserved, preferring not to draw attention to himself. He is also optimistic, which is why the tales of gold went to his head. Call it gold lust, call it greed, you wouldn't be wrong in either case, but the driving force behind his part in the gold rush is the unyielding belief that he will strike it rich. ...Doesn't everyone who goes west?
And this is how his decisions are made. Tending to take what he's told at face value and act on it, sometimes at the peril of his own hide.
Hobbies/Special talents or abilities :: Riding and making quick (though sometimes flawed) decisions or judgments are probably the closest to above averagely talents. His hobbies include day dreaming, looking over his shoulder at every sound, and -one day soon- mining.
He has no urge to gamble and little use for drink, though both are subject to change, depending on his future success.
Quirks/Flaws :: Most of them are described in his personality. Johnny is naive, impulsive, and a little paranoid. He was never a very good shot, to his disgrace as a soldier, but he's planning succeed at gold hunting. And while he's optimistic, he's also easily disappointed.
I feel strongly about/My dreams and goals :: Gold! And getting away from the violence of the army. His dreams change on a whim. From being a career soldier when he was a boy, to mining now that he's a little more than a boy. It's hard to say what John Stanley will be doing with himself two years from now. But if you asked him he'd guarantee you that he'll be living in luxury, thanks to his inevitable gold discovery.
I love :: Johnny hasn't seen many available women who weren't whores recently. At the moment he's most in love with his own skin, hoping to stay one step ahead of the firing squad at any cost.
Anything additional :: (Likes, dislikes, etc)
Five words to describe me :: Naive, impulsive, nervous, optimistic, individualistic
Played by :: Ffaux Pas
And: A character from another Musketeer RP, this one is a Protestant during a time when the King and Cardinal were prosecuting them, declaring war against them, really. It was dangerous to be a Protestant at all, let alone in service to the king as one. My character
I was christened || Léon Sébastien Bertrand
But they call me || Lionel
My suns and moons || Twenty-six
Monsieur or Madame? || Monsieur
I see through || A rather nondescript shade of blue. His appearance doesn't merit a lasting impression, in general; least of all his eye colour.
The crown 'pon my head || Something between dark blond and light brown. We'll call it 'sandy', to apply a term to such a dull shade. Thick and coarse, it falls just past his shoulders, and is worn (neatly) tied back, despite it's defiant insistence on curling.
I stand to || 5'8"
My weight in gold || 150 lbs.
My face is || Fair- prone to burning quickly -and a blush- whether result of some indignity or anger, is easily apparent.
When I look in the mirrors || Léon does not present a terribly imposing figure. He is of moderate height and medium build. His features, like his frame, do little to distinguish him from other men. His jaw is neither broad nor effeminate, his nose neither too large nor small for his face. Léon is, to be perfectly frank, decidedly average.
Average, that is, unless regarded with more than passing notice. An image, a mirror, cannot tell you half as much as a few seconds' observation. --If one were to linger, a moment longer, in scrutiny, they might recognize a certain determination in his bearing. A keen wariness in the eyes and a haughtiness of mien, which he endeavors to suppress. They would quickly discover just how cleverly an expression can lie. For it is, in fact, his expressions which give Léon character. His smile, bestowed upon a friend, is warm and regardful even, on occasion, affectionate. That same smile, turned upon an unknown, or an enemy, does not reach the eyes. His brow, likewise, is firm and expressive.
My flaws, my perfections || Léon would consider his hair a flaw, were he accustomed to pay it any more mind than necessary. That aside, there is very little to mention here, apart from the typical, small, quickly fading scars acquired from boyhood and constant practice with the blade. He is also prone to burning and allergies.
I love only || Pursuits of romance generally turn out badly, thus he tends to avoid them.
I spend the days || Léon is serving as a King's Musketeer, though his reasons for this career choice are varied.
My justice || In addition to the standard issue musket, Léon favours (predictably) the rapier and main gauche. His own sword is Spanish made.
Purchased for him by his uncle, it is a simple style and, at the time of purchase, poorly cared for. But it appealed to Léon, for its simplicity and function, as well as what it represented to the boy (from the moment he saw it). Constancy, forbearance, longevity, and a respect for the past. --And, indeed, when cleaned up, and blade replaced (with one, also Spanish, approximately forty inches in length and diamond in cross section) it did appear almost new again. The guard is a functional blend of swept and cup hilt styles similar to the Pappenheimer, and since becoming a musketeer, Léon has had it etched with a French-style cross.
His dagger, in comparison, is fairly unremarkable
Myself || In order to justly paint the portrait of his personality, we must first reveal something of his past. Léon is a Huguenot. It is this, first and foremost, which has shaped his life from childhood. He'd lost family, many years before his birth, to the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre in 1572, and the successive uprisings. Finally, his own father was killed for his beliefs, several years later. Léon, being but two at the time, would remember his father only through his mother's memory and her hatred of the Roman Catholic Church.
It was only another eight years before she passed on as well, victim to some illness or other. The boy was then sent to the region of Picardie to live with his uncle, also a devout Protestant réformee. Between being raised by his angry mother and an active Huguenot uncle, Léon is bitter and his beliefs are extreme.
Still, Léon loves his country, despite the flaws of the church and its rulers. He does not, however, love the king who would refuse them the privileges which had been granted to them by the Edict of Nantes. A king who, when reminded of the claims the Protestants had, (if the promises of Henry the Third and Henry the Fourth were to be regarded), would answer "the first-named monarch feared them, and the latter loved them; but I neither fear nor love them."
So, from his youth, he was raised to be staunch, and active, in his beliefs. He dedicated himself to becoming a guardsman for the crown, getting closer to the king and Cardinal. He is, perhaps, vengeful, and certainly an extremist. --And this 'just' king, has not proved so just, after all. The Huguenot free cities were lost one after the other, after they were conquered by the forces of Cardinal Richelieu, and the last and most important stronghold, La Rochelle, fell in 1629 after a siege lasting a month.
Léon was there.
As for his personality, Léon is secretive, about his religious leanings as well as his past. He acts as a Catholic in public to avoid drawing attention, and practices as a Protestant in private. He is hot-headed where religion or politics are concerned. A flaw which he struggles to keep under rein, lest his true opinions be discovered. He is unlikely to approach, or initiate conversation, though whether because he is shy, or simply cautious and reserved, is hard to say.
When he does find allies, he is unerringly loyal, but ally does not equate to friend.
In truth, he is wary of most people, and slow to trust. And, though he feigns amicability well enough, his countenance may give his true feelings away.
Clever and keenly perceptive in his observation, Léon is a fair judge of character. His opinions tend to be just and well regarded by his acquaintances, as he is not inclined to offer his point of view unless requested and, then, not until he's given it due consideration. This, combined with the necessary secrecy, evinces that the young man does nothing without, first, thinking his actions through. Léon's methodical nature, being well known to his friends, reassures them of his loyalty to his king. A loyalty which few could doubt, despite his reticent ways.
While he is not overly large, nor commanding, his will is strong and his quiet determination impressive. These are the traits that earned him a place with the Musketeers, after his two years service with a lesser regiment.
In five words, I am || Determined, methodical, cagey, Protestant, and dutiful. (Whether in filial respect for his family, his beliefs, or his country)
My dreams || His dreams are realized by becoming a Musketeer. The only other thing he could hope for would be a definite end to the religious disputes, and for the Protestants' right to worship publicly to be enforced. If there's any way he can do this in his position, he surely will. But he's simply hoping that the king will do something to stop the Cardinal's attacks, and that further persecution is not to come. is a geek from a slightly futuristic space exploration sort of RP. He's just good for comic relief and fanboy parodying. Geoffrey
Geoffrey Leland Faulk [ Twenty~two && September 25 ]
Geoff ;; Lee
Technician (Systems Sciences) && Navigation
Callsign
 Cameron is a blind children's malpractice lawyer from a fantasy/dreamworld sort of RP. Could be used there or any other modern setting, with or without the strange special abilities in the dreaming. Cameron 11th~Ffaux Pas  Under the M A S K
»_F oundation B eneath;; Ffaux Pas
»_F allen R ainbow;; #3D59AB and #778899
S H A K E It U p
»_Don't W ear It O ut //. Cameron Gareth Tarleton . Cam, Gar, or Gare are most common.
»_M oon R ise //. Thirty-three.
»_L ook Mommy Its A //. Little boy blue
»_I nside My H eart //. Are people.
»_I A lways Wanted to B e an //. Attorney
»_R andom Facts Y ou Just Might N eed //. I like people. I am endlessly forgiving, but I like to see good and unfortunate people get what they deserve. This is what propelled me in the direction I've taken with my life. More about that later. For now, be content to know that, even should you hate me, I want what is best for you.
»_Y ou Make Me W ant To Shout! //.Brighten my day with:Music Winning a caseInteresting texturesChildrenSpeed (Velocity) No joy from:NegligenceIgnorancePrejudicesTree nutsAlcohol Since, my friend, you have revealed your deepest fear:Failing a family in needSituations you can't talk or reason yourself out ofHeights
»_L OOK At M E //. I've been told that my personality is the best thing I've got going for me. Whether this means I'm unattractive or just have a great personality, I couldn't say, but I hope it's the latter. You see, unlike many people who've been placed in a situation like myself, I did not respond with cynicism, hate, or anger. I've always been an optimist, a trait I can only attribute to my parents' outlook, during my childhood. They've always supported me in everything I've undertaken, and endeavored never to treat me like I was any different from their other normal children.
But I am different. I've never lied to myself about that. And as cliché as it sounds, it has made me stronger. I'll tell you, since I hope you're interested enough to be curious, that I've been blind since about two weeks after birth. I'll go into more detail on that later, but this defect, as many people call it, has shaped me into the man I am today. Not bitter at the negligence of my pediatricians, but determined to make other such cases as 'right' as possible. From the time I was a small child, I have wanted to be a lawyer; specializing in negligence and malpractice cases. Not for the money but for the chance to help people in similar situations.
I don't approach a case with the intent to make the doctors or hospitals pay for their mistakes, but to earn the injured party everything they deserve. You may argue that money doesn't make it better, that no settlement can make it right, and that's a fact I know as well as anyone. But money can provide chances, opportunities, and care that the family might never afford otherwise. My case was an example of this.
So -against the odds- to this day, I like people. All people. I forgave my doctors. As a boy I wrote, care of the hospital I was treated at, and told them as much. People make mistakes, it's human nature. I prefer to let things bounce off me, rather than be hurt by them. After all, "An eye for an eye only leads to more blindness." --So, from the doctors to the children who harassed me as a boy, everyone who has crossed me has been forgiven. In some cases it has taken time, since I never built up walls as do most people who are disabled. Instead I held out hope. Hope that people would be understanding and supportive. And, in many cases, I have not been disappointed. I believe that people are inherently good, and I want what is best, even for the worst.
»_D ance Down Memory L A N E //. The events surrounding my birth are important to the rest of my life. Most babies are born at one hour or another, of healthy weight, in some given hospital. Mothers remember these details to the end. However, it was not the hour of my birth which would be of importance, but the date. I was born two months premature, so, understandably, my weight was also of note. But, unfortunately, it was the actions of my pediatricians which carried the most lasting effect. As with many premature babies, I barely survived. It was a struggle from the beginning. My lungs were underdeveloped, which resulted in my being placed on oxygen for close to four hundred hours. Now, this is completely reasonable, but what they failed to take into consideration was the risk of retrolental fibroplasia. Medical guidelines warn that supplemental oxygen, at high concentration, damages cells and often leads to Retinopathy of prematurity. It is recommended that doctors closely monitor arterial blood gases in any premature baby placed on oxygen, but unfortunately mine did not do so. I was blind before I was sent home.
My parents, generally pacifists and, like myself, forgiving in all things, sued the hospital. They wanted what was best for me, and they would not have been able to provide that on their meager incomes. They had one child already, and while they'd be able to support two healthy children comfortably enough, certain accommodations needed to be made on my behalf. And I am certainly not complaining. The settlement they received from the hospital paid for all of my care and, more importantly, my schooling. I went to law school without incurring one student loan, and did so comfortably. My parents were also clever enough to put a large portion of the money aside for my future, which, with the interest it's accruing, will not serve me poorly. In fact, despite my disability, I have been very fortunate.
Of course I was not always so happy as a child. I'd insisted in going to a normal school for the first few years, and it had not been easy to find one. My parents were reluctant, at first, but they gave in eventually. They put me in a good school, but children will be children, and though I was in special classes we were still together at recess. I wanted to make friends with the other children, to play games, to tell my mother stories of the fun I'd had at school. But the other children found their fun in mocking me. Throwing things. Inviting me to play with them, then laughing when I could not keep up. Still, until it got to be too much, until it detracted from my grades and my cheerful disposition, I always tried to join in. Perhaps I was naive, perhaps I just wanted to prove that they couldn't hurt me, but I did really want friends.
Finally, my parents took me out of that school, and sent me to a school for the blind. This helped me in two ways. First, it was in this school that I made my first friends. I still remember them. Their names, not their faces, of course- and I could tell you about them, but our friendships ended like most childhood friendships do. We eventually moved on and grew apart. But suddenly the world looked a whole lot nicer. The second thing the special school did for me was reaffirm the notion that I did not want to be relegated to special schools, special jobs, special housing, etcetera, for the rest of my life. I wanted to live a normal life. I wanted to pursue my dreams.
So I went to college. I went to law school. I bought special books, used special software; some accommodations cannot be avoided. But I lived as normal a life as I could manage. I was a typical student, staying up too late, even partying too much, when I could procure invitations. I graduated with high marks, found a job with a law firm with lawyers specializing in malpractice, accidents, and child neglect. It was a perfect fit, and now I'm doing what I love; helping people like myself. The rest is history.
But there is something else I want to talk to you about. Something that's always been present in my life, but always run mostly parallel to my past, rather than affecting it. Dreams. I've always had them, and always in vibrant, if somewhat out of focus, color. I couldn't tell you which colors, or whether they're right. I know that grass is green and that the sky is blue, but I cannot tell you if they are still those colors when I am asleep. They seem to be always shifting, but always beautiful. I am not sure whether it makes it harder to cope with being unable to see them when I am awake, or easier, knowing that I will see them again when I sleep. Sounds and music hold a similar beauty and comfort me during the hours of wakefulness.
»_ I mage in the M I R R O R //.What use for a mirror?
As you have probably determined by this point, I have never looked in a mirror. I have occasionally stood before one, wondering what I would see, were I able to see. Imagining, as best I could, how the face I'd often touched would translate into a real, visible, person. It would have been a simpler task, had I some basis for comparison. But I could tell by feel that my face was less fleshy than my fathers. I'd been told that I have my grandfather's nose and my smile comes from my mother's side, but I am afraid I cannot give you the precise description you may be looking for.
I will tell you that my hair is kept short, as a precaution. I imagine, though I may be in the wrong, that a person is more likely to appear presentable with a modest length and style. And as an attorney, it is a safe option. My eyes and hair are dark; I will not be more specific. If this information is enough for I, who cannot see, it ought to be enough for you who can.
The only other matter of appearance I am concerned with is my weight and physical fitness. Having been premature, I was always a little small growing up, but I finally caught up, thanks to my last growth spurt. Now I am afraid of becoming complacent and lazy. I refuse to, like many blind people, use my disability as an excuse in any situation. Being blind does not prevent me from exercising. True, I cannot go out and run or bike, as you might, but I can swim, and I have purchased a treadmill. Occasionally I'll put in a CD of nature sounds and imagine I am running through the woods, or along the beach, and I tell myself that it's more beautiful in my imagination, and in my dreams, than it could ever be in real life. And that's more of a comfort than you can imagine. When you have never seen, you have no predetermined concept of what things may or may not look like.
»_T his is What I S ay: None so blind as those that will not see.
Inside the D R E A M
»_The F I R S T Kiss (Birthdate) //. November 11, 11:OO AM
»_Name H E Y You! (Nickname)//. NA
»_Swing S E T (Sexuality) //. It's a question, rarely asked, except in dreams and, even then, then it's the personality which matters most.
»_ARMOR && P O I S E N //. It may only be a strength to me, but I can see in the dreaming. Whether I see what is actually there, or something else entirely, will have to be determined, but it's more than the darkness I've been accustomed to all this time. I'm also a good mediator and my talent for reasoning things out, explaining them in a variety of ways, or justifying anything are all abilities I have always possessed. I may seem like dead weight, but you will see my worth eventually, if you overlook the fact that I am reluctant to harm anyone, and rarely have a negative word to say about any person or situation. Yes, I fear this will be seen as a weakness, in time.
»_B ig and S H I N N Y //. A sharp mind and senses work as one. I may not hear as well as the bartender, but I may infer more from what I do hear. I have learned to interpret situations rather quickly with only minimal sensory information, and will think or even react as quickly, though sometimes clumsily. My cane is not the sturdiest, nor my dog the most vicious, but corner us and we will do our worst.
»_B L A S T //. I can name and distinguish most sounds, smells, tastes, etcetera, from only the briefest exposure.
I'm a lawyer- a human lie detector, but a hell of a manipulator of terminological inexactitudes, myself, if necessary.
And another quote for you, “There is a condition worse than blindness and that is seeing something that isn't there.”
»_D ance With One A R M Waving F R E E //. The Blind Fiddler - A traditional tune, and Wolfsheim's Blind .
What, you expected anything else?
Sample posts for most of these characters can be found somewhere in the thread linked in my sig. Some of those other characters are also available. The suicidal architect xD for example, but these are the ones I haven't had enough chance to play. You probably won't read any of these, since they're a little long, but the effort is made.
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Posted: Mon Dec 10, 2007 9:06 am
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Posted: Mon Dec 10, 2007 9:12 am
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Posted: Mon Dec 10, 2007 5:38 pm
Hello Ffaux Pas. I was in the fun futuristic roleplay with you with Geoffrey! I did love that roleplay, and I'm still quite found of Vitt, from the same roleplay...
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Love.Makes.The.World.Go.Round. - Right?
Vittoria . Madeline . Wilp .
twenty-two && December 04
Vittoria; Vitt
Ambassador
Tongues
Understanding. Generous. Clever. Respectful. Companionate. Maternal.
The preceding words sum up Vittoria in the best way possible. They will be explained, of course, with bits of information on her personality, history, and tidbits.
1 -- Understanding :: Born as an only child, Vittoria lived a simple, so-called, quote on quote “normal” life. With a mother and father, along with her grandmother, Vitt was raised to be a good citizen, a good girl, who would give back to the world that she was borne from. Vittoria never saw any reason to rebel against her parents and their wishes. Even at a young age, she held some kind of uncanny wisdom that kept her obeying the rules, and looking farther than any other child into the future, with a third eye keeping her calm and understanding. Vitt didn’t ever hear - she listened ... there is quite a big difference, and she understood since birth, or so it seemed. And she chose to listen. And with this constant listening, she quickly learned to understand. It fits her job to the “t,” for she put herself into other’s shoes in moments, only imaging what their situation and lives could be like. She understood her parents, their relationship, and her grandmother’s sorrow and joy. And with that understanding, she quickly learned to do what would produce a good outcome. She understood people, situations, and facts - her favorite being math and maps, which explained her secondary subject at school. Vitt understood.
2 -- Generous :: Vittoria is one of the most generous people there could be. She gives her all to everyone. She leaves very little for herself, giving away ever part of her. Her ears always listened, her mind always thinking of others. Known to many as a rock, for which you can always lean on, and never worry about falling, Vitt gives her entire body, mind, spirit, and soul for others. Giving more than just her wisdom to others in the form of advice when asked for it, she also volunteered in school, gave money and clothes to others who really needed it, and anything else she could do. In school, Vitt would always pay for everything she did, never wanting to force her parents to pay for her education. She is selfless, but also knows when to stop ... well ... most the time. She would give her own life for another she is close to. But she will stop if the mission needs it. This keeps her outreaching hand for others who she contacts on the job. But, if they refuse enough, procedures will occur on schedule. She would have tried her very hardest though. Still, she was selfless to her own crew too. The only time when she isn’t all giving of herself is when some certain drinks enter her system, making her mind go loopy, along with her sense of morals. Then she is quite a different person, loud, hearing but not listening, and making a good time, or so she wishes. Instead ... most mainly laugh at her, not with her. So, Vitt stays away from that stuff.
3 -- Clever :: Vittoria knows how to work her way around a situation. Some would say she is manipulative, wrapping a person around an idea and forcing them to see it her way, without them even knowing it. She does have street smarts, to say the least, and she knows how to get her opinion across without forcing it on someone else. But, Vitt doesn’t think herself as manipulative. She does everything for other’s good. When she was at school, this was a great skill, working her way around problems and situations. She has a certain flare around people, which makes them simply want to like her. Maybe it’s those big brown eyes. Anyway ... Vitt can talk her way out of almost anything, and though she may not be “book smart,” (though she secretly wishes she was), she is most definitely street - or in this case - space smart. She knows each planet’s culture by a few factors, and lots of studying in school. She uses this to her and her crew member’s advantage. This trait was passed down from her Father, whom came down with a rare disease, and still now is in a medical facility for the problems, including memory loss and speech impediments. Vittoria misses her father dearly.
4 -- Respectful :: Vitt respects all shapes, sizes, faces, and actions. There is a rhyme and reason to every action, word, and character, Vitt has learned this from experience, and her points of view on life - thanks to her wisdom. She learned this virtue at a young age, from her grandmother. She realized from her grandmother, everything makes sense to the person who is doing it. No one does something that doesn’t seem right in their mind. So - respect is needed to observe the world in the way an ambassador does. Vitt uses this philosophy all the time. Respect is one of the most important things to Vitt.
5 -- Companionate :: Vittoria gives everything away, and loves all. She doesn’t look down on people, as she could. Pity is something no one wants. Instead, she gives them compassion - the idea that she can understand somewhat. That she wants to help, but not because she feels bad for them. Only because it is the right thing to do - help one another, however small or big the problem. For this fact, Vitt is always giving advice, and is much like the “mother” or consoler of the ship, and to the people she gets to know. It is also something people figure out about Vitt right away. She has a soft spot in her heart for every person she meets.
6 -- Maternal :: There is a certain love that forms for Vitt when she meets someone. Suddenly, she is like a mother goose. She wants the best for everyone else, not worrying about herself, but only silently and sometimes unknowingly looking out for everyone. Like that nice hall monitor from elementary school. Your mom for when mum isn’t usually around. She has a way of watching out, and being much like a mother - discipline but loving to all. All these things made her excel in her field of being an ambassador, especially with the drive she has. A book lover, Vittoria is always there.
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I also have a old west character I love. Ffaux, I do believe she was from one of your roleplays also. Yes ... strange.
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The Basics
Name :: Mrs. Daniel Elizabeth Lee Mills
But call me :: Mrs. Mills, Elizabeth
Gender :: Female
Age :: 24
Title/Rank/Position/Profession :: local school teacher
Appearance/Possessions
Appearance :: Mrs. Daniel Elizabeth Mills was one beautiful woman. Common? Well ... maybe. Dull to some, but Elizabeth had a shine and sharpness to her that was anything but ugly. She was petite, standing five feet and three inches tall. She had a small, soft hourglass shape to her. Obtaining small hips from her mother; soft and slowly sloping to make a gentle curve, and a slightly full chest, for her size at least. She looked like the girl next door that you couldn’t help but like. Her pretty stature was nothing like the overbearing and inhumane saloon girls and dancers of the west. She stayed away from that look. Her face and body were thin, for she had always been a poor girl. Her body processed small lean muscles, from the occasional farm work or other jobs she set herself to. Her skin, once pale and perfect, could not stay untouched by the world. From the sun’s strong rays, she became lightly tanned, but still very fair. Mrs. Daniel Mills had long locks of gold, glowing with the power of the summer sun. Her hair had natural soft curls, and is often tightly curled, or in an up-do. Her eyes; sapphire blue, the color of the clearest streams and brightest blue skies. With full smooth lips to finish off her face, she smiled or frowned at the world - whatever was appropriate in the situation. She had a natural soft look to her, as if she couldn’t hurt a fly. But, when angry or upset, it showed on her brow, and her eyes could gleam with any emotion, stronger than the wind.
Style of dress :: Elizabeth had a sophisticated style of dress, never showing off anything she didn’t have to. Most all her dresses never showed off her chest, or even her collar bone. Dresses always went to her feet, and shoulders were never shown. Some her of her favorite dresses are as the following ... Teaching dress, Summer dress, Day dress, Yellow Dress, Sunday Dress, and her Dinner Dress
Always carrying/Meaningful to me :: On her right hand is a simple silver band, her marriage ring. Her and her late husband had never had enough money to get anything fancy. She doesn’t wear it on her left hand anymore, for she is now a widow, but still keeps it with her.
Otherwise of note :: Mrs. Mills is more fond of the petticoats and evening gowns than simple clothes. But, she will wear anything.
You Ought to Know
History :: Elizabeth Lee Wright was born in a small cottage in Kansas, her father a strong-headed farmer, her older brother following in his father’s footsteps, and mother kind and Christian. She learned everything she needed to from her mother, and on the way, her brother taught her how to read, write, and do some small arithmetic. The two had been close and Elizabeth strived to learn anything she could. Her brother taught her well, and she easily grasped the concepts and thing he taught her. She lived an uneventful life, until her parents decided to leave Kansas, for hopes of a better life somewhere else. They all moved toward the West. The land was hard and new to them all, and their journey had been long, hard, and dangerous. Her mother became ill on the trip, dying two years after settling in a small town in Oregon. Elizabeth was sixteen at this age, and helped her father through the rest of his life. He died peacefully when Elizabeth was eighteen. She moved to where her brother was, a small town north of where she had lived; a place that didn’t even deserve the name town. There, her brother informed her he was off back to Kansas, missing the open lands and good farm land. He invited her, but Elizabeth Lee Wright didn’t believe she could make the trip. She was not in the best of health, and feared for her life, seeing what the trip did to her mother. Her brother accepted it, and knew they would stay in contact, thanks to both of their writing abilities. Here, before he would leave, Elizabeth was bond to find a home. She met Daniel Richard Mills, a young man who fell madly in love with her. Elizabeth was different than most in the town. Without vice, a full Christian and with a gentle streak in her firm beliefs and lifestyle. She would be his only vice. They married when Elizabeth was nineteen.
Now, Mrs. Elizabeth Lee Mills had one hell of a husband. Daniel was hard working, with a handsome face, dark curly hair, and eyes of jade green - the best catch of the town by far. he was honest and true, like her, and his only vice was Elizabeth herself. They lived in a small farm, trying their best to make a living. They tried to have themselves a child, unsuccessfully. Elizabeth did go through a still birth, and knew she wanted to try again with her love. Still, they lived their life, happier than any other with each other. That was before the accident. Mr. Daniel Mills had gone to see his sister, and all had gone well as he saw his new nephew. Elizabeth had stayed home to keep to the house, with only her Tabby Cat Charlie, her books, and her quilt work. The then twenty three year old woman planned to meet her husband just outside of town. With a basket full of food in hand, dressed in her favorite blue dress and a smile on her lips, she went to meet her husband. But the smile disappeared at the sound of gunshot and the sight of a man dropping to the ground. Just as quickly, she dropped the basket and rushed to him, tears streaming down her face and eyes fixed on the man with a smoking gun.
Mrs. Daniel Elizabeth Lee Mills was a widow. The farm was quickly sold, for Elizabeth could never run the farm herself. She thought of keeping her beloved husbands land, and getting ranch hands, but knew better. Instead, she carried her books, cat, and belongings into town, getting a small home with three rooms for herself. Elizabeth knew she wouldn’t stoop down to the lifestyle most women would though. She wouldn’t ever do that to her husband. No - she would not go to the whore houses. Instead, she found herself to uphold her respectful lifestyle, with morals and meaning. She became the local school teacher of the one-room school house. She had always loved knowledge, and would now give it to the rest of her community. And being around children kept her from getting too lonely. Elizabeth was known as the backbone of the town, one of the best women around, without a vice and immune to most gossip. She stayed modest and pure, and advised all on the straight and narrow pathway, leading by example.
Personality :: Mrs. Daniel Elizabeth Lee Mills is one good woman. Known to all for her full Christian morals and teachings, she is an upstanding person of society. She is an average woman, who thinks that people should follow their ways and do their best to stay close to God. She is kind to children, but expects them all to try and learn. She also expects lots of adults, believing they should set good examples for all, doing what is expected of them and more. She believes in all Christian morals, and does her very best to uphold all of them; succeeding. She also has a gentle streak to her, knowing most people go through some sort of hardships. She will forgive, but not always forget. If you correct your ways, you are fine with Elizabeth - but you only get one chance. She does believe everyone should follow her ways, and isn’t very accepting of other religions. Known for looking down on others, Elizabeth tries her best to keep herself humble and not hold her head too high. If she likes you, she is sweet and gentle, with a heart of gold. But if she disproves of your actions she is very critical, still keeping polite, but sometimes curt. She tries her best not to be this way, because of her beliefs. She also doesn’t take criticism well, but does always try and improve herself as a person. Overall, stay on her good side, and all will be well.
Hobbies/Special talents or abilities :: Elizabeth Mills is an amazing teacher. She could teach anything to anything, or so most people tell her. She also has a will of diamond when it comes to her strength. She will not give into anything, for she seems to be vice-less. She also is a wonderful cook, good with patchwork and quilts, and any other thing a usual western woman would have to do.
Quirks/Flaws :: Elizabeth expects a lot out of most people, including herself. She also is known to judge people. Even if she doesn’t usually speak her words of dislike about people, unless she can trust who she speaks with, Elizabeth thinks women should do certain things, and men should do others. When the two mix what they do, she often does not approve of these wrong ways. She also won’t hurt anyone physically, knowing she couldn’t even if she wanted to. She won’t hit a man or woman, but her tongue is sharp when she is angry.
I feel strongly about/My dreams and goals :: Mrs. Daniel believes in the Holy Bible. Religion is very important to her, and she thinks everyone should look to The book for the right way to life. She does so. She also wants to find herself a husband, hoping to have children before it’s too late. Still, she is in no rush to marry someone she doesn’t love or likes. She wants someone honest and true, like her last husband. Elizabeth also believes in the children, knowing with her wisdom beyond her years, that they are the future, and most be taken care of. That is her job, and she is passionate about it.
I love :: Elizabeth is still very much in love with her late husband, dead for a year. She does not only play hard to get, but is hard to get. Daniel had been the catch of this town, handsome, sweet, kind, and truthful, without the regular vices. She only loves the children now.
Anything additional :: Elizabeth refuses to take any nicknames, and will only go into the saloon when need be. She is against any drink, but, of lately, goes into the saloon to watch over the children, taking over the role of care keeper for them, while still being teacher. Most her pupils like her. She expects enough of them to keep them working, but is forgiving and understanding with them.
Five words to describe me :: compassionate, steadfast, religious, critical, intelligent
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Lady Leto "Letti"
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Character Name; Lady Leto Transgot
Nickname; she is often called Letti, and actually prefers this pet name over her real name.
Age; Lady Leto just turned 19 a few months ago.
Allignment; Brinade
Basic Description; Lady Leto Transgot has a very thin frame, and is very petite. She has long red hair, which is thick and full, and lands at the middle of her back. The hair has a slight natural curl to it, usually ending up in soft and loose ringlets. Her eyes are dark grey, big, and full of wisdom and help for any who search for it. She is rather thin, with a small to medium bust size, and small, yet soft and appropriate curves, with an hour-glass shaped body. Her feet and hands are small and thin, along with her arms and legs. She has an almost doll-like and perfect face, with a small widow’s peek at her hairline. Her nose is dusted with a few, almost invisible, freckles which make her dark red hair look native, as if it all belongs. Her lips are usually slightly chapped and a soft pink in color, thin yet still looking very natural. Lady Leto is usually found in dark color, such as maroon, Midnight Navy, dark greens, and browns. She tries to bring her clothing back to the colors of nature, for that is one place Letti is simply in love with. She always is found in some sort of dress, may it be a coarsest and skirt, a long elegant dress, or a simple dress showing her figure off in a modest way. She usually has a pair of small, golden earrings sitting in her ears, dangling from the skin. Around her neck she always adorns a golden locket, usually hidden under the folds of her dresses. Inside is a picture of her mother and father in one side, and her entire family of five brothers and herself, along with her mother and father. She is never seen without a golden ring with a perfectly set diamond on her right ring-finger, which was her mother’s wedding ring. She usually has some dainty golden bracelet upon her thin wrists, and simple shoes cover her feet. She stands always straight and tall, looking quite proper, yet always, always natural.
Height/Weight; Lady Letti stands 5 feet and 6 inches tall, and weighs just over 100 pounds, with a very small and petite frame.
Eye Color; Dark grey
Hair Color; Dark red, with a natural mix of brunette
Skin Tone; She is not tanned, but is also not white, but has a healthy glow to her skin.
Special Effects; Leto has her eye’s pierces, where earrings usually dangle from. Otherwise, the young woman is always picked out by her red hair.
Personality; At the very center of Lady Leto’s personality, is pure humbleness and maternity. She is always helping others, may they be a child, another royal person, someone of great importance, a peasant, or a foreigner. Lady Leto has always been someone to give herself up, and has pure selflessness.
But, being the way she is, at all times, it makes her someone who gets used quite often. And Leto does not even know such a thing is happening. Letti has some hurt in her life, from people who she believed she loved, but ended wrongly. And on everything which happens, if the end result is bad she puts all blame upon herself. Letti feels like all things wrong is her fault, and is extremely harsh upon herself, but none see this, so none will fix it. But of course, Letti doesn’t want anyone else to get her extra baggage. At heart, This woman is extremely kind, understanding, and really wise. She can comfort anyone, and is an amazing listener, and comforter to any who need it, accept herself.
History; When born, Letti was the second born, having an older brother who truly wanted nothing to do with his family. Growing up, the girl was extremely quiet and was much like the mother of the family, since her own mother wasn’t always too sure how to be a mother. But this came on naturally to Leto. Leto’s nickname, Letti came from her youngest brother of five other males in her family, when he could not say the “O’s” sound well, hence, Letti. Her father had been a high class warrior, until hurt in battle, and her mother had been a Royal, who slowly seemed to be going bad, wanting nothing but to drink her life away. The family never understood what took such firm grip upon the Mother. She died with Letti was seventeen, two years ago. Letti was happy to see her mother leave to a better place, and Father slowly dealt with the pain, by becoming more involved with the training of soldiers, his new job.
Leto was named after the Titan Leto, who oddly enough, was much like herself. Growing up, she had always been looked upon for that role. Letti herself believes this is the main piece which shaped her to who she was. For, She was the one who was always there, and never worried about herself, even at a young age. That is what others needed, and that is what quickly became herself.
When sixteen, Leto believed she had found true love, though this was all just a vision, created by a manipulation male. He acted like the princess, helpless and needing, and Leto became the prince, who saved the lost and let them see the light. But this only pulled the girl deep deep into the dark, where she was pained more than imaginable. This has caused a deep scar upon herself, where she is now often hates sleep, for there had been memories of sleeping beside him, only to be hurt more. But, actually, this entire ordeal affected her by working harder at helping others, to keep her mind off the problems with herself.
Weapons; Letti is a lady, and should not know how to use any weapon. But this young woman does know how to work a bow and arrow, and do it well. Though almost none know this secret, The wooden bow is what protects her when bad things arise. Though, she uses this weapon only when it is the last resort.
Powers/Talents; Leto has an awesome ability when it comes to aim. With her willow bow and arrows, she is just as good as any warrior archer, though few know of this talent, since she uses it as little as possible. But her main talent is how she just is. I know this seems odd, but Her total selflessness is simply amazing, and this young woman has an almost uncanny way of making others simply relaxed. Her simple presence settles many a person’s fears. And the way that she will listen and give her wise yet simple advice to anyone is quite a talent.
Position; When it comes to position in war, Lady Leto truly has none, for a woman doing such a thing is not lady-like. But, even if not directed, this woman is a scholar, telling many of the male advisers her own opinion. And oddly enough, these men figures agree with her side and her own plans are carried out, just without her name upon them. This is perfectly grand with Letti. The young woman doesn’t want any big attention of the such.
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A medieval Fantasy girlie - where women ruled.
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Character Name: Dylan Beaudarcs A’ Marie {First, Mother’s Maiden, Fathers last}
Age/Gender: 21 - Female
Appearance: Beaudarcs’ bloodline had stayed constant through the family, and most of Dylan’s brothers and sister’s were simply her mother’s children. Blonde, fair, pretty, and all rather petite. The only thing her siblings did not take from her mother was her blue eyes, and her magic. Instead, all of them had deep brown eyes, which clashed utterly with their bright hair. And they lived without a drop of any magic. Dylan, the second oldest was different. The girl achieved two things from her mother. First and foremost, her mother’s eyes. If not more beautiful than mum’s eyes. Dylan’s optics were of the oddest of things. The entirety of the eyes were of the darkest of sea nights, a royal and deep navy blue, the color right before the black of night. But, surrounding her large black pupil, which covered almost half of her eye at almost all times, was a thin halo of bright blue, the entire opposite of the dark night sky which filled her orbs. Instead this ring of bright blue color matches that of the bluest sky one will ever see. The one that is seen on one of the cold, bone chilling winter days, when you haven’t seen a clear sky or the sun in months. And on that one day, you can’t help but stand outside, and just gaze at the wondrous blue sky that you have missed for ever so long. Otherwise, body-wise, she was her Father’s only child. Sure, she wasn’t petite, but that didn’t mean she was big either. Her body had muscles though, and she knew how to work a sword or two, though her mother wasn’t exactly fond of this. She had a curvy body, with full hour-glass shape form, and was much taller than her siblings, standing a proud 5 feet, 8 and 1/2 inches. She had long, extremely thick and rather wild dark brunette hair which loved to play with the wind and always had a soft curl to it. Her skin was sun-kissed, and no where near as frail and sensitive as her mother’s and sibling’s. Her face was thin, with no chubby fat upon it, like her father’s did, and her lips were not thin, though not overly big. Her entire being looked rather natural, but not one fit for any kind of queen or lady of any court. But, the young woman was still very beautiful, for those who didn’t like dainty little things. The other thing she had obtained from her mother was a great amount of magic, though, most didn’t know much about it. She had not been trained by any kind of ruler or person of high ranking of any time. This is, because this magic only appeared three years ago. But, she mastered it quickly. Dylan is usually dressed in a pair of men’s dark brown breaches, which go to her knees, and a long tunic of almost any color, but usually in a light cream color. She also, is always, forced to wear a corset because of her mother. For, Mum is always hoping that some man may see her at work, and notice when the wind hits that loose tunic to show her true bodyline, they may be a bit attracted. Her hair is usually wild and kept down, falling to the middle of her back, and without bangs, but only a few trundles of hair that fell at the sides of her forehead, down to her pierced ears, which sat in spirals. Otherwise, when at work, her hair was kept up, in a high-ponytail tied off with a red ribbon. She also was almost always fond bare-foot, but when forced was found in boots, or when at some kind of formal event, while in an attractive dress, she did wear the customary high-heals. Her lips were often found chapped, and in some sort of grin, and her eyes just dared anyone to come and challenge her.
History: Dylan was the second born in her family. She had an older brother, at the age of 23, and four younger siblings. Her oldest she was rather close to. He was proud yet silent, and extremely intelligent. Her youngest brother is now 9, and simply adores her, who is pouty yet simply adorable. Her youngest sister and only other sister is 14, and is in love with the boy next door, and can’t help but be found always daydreaming and doing needlework as any girl should. She had a twin, also 14, but male, who was quite the same. He loved to read, and did little work, for the boy had always been the sickly one. And her other brother was 17, and just becoming aware that he would have to find some kind of profession. He had always wanted to just watch the sea’s, but now knew he had other things to take care of. He was rather indecisive, and really didn’t want to do much. Dylan didn’t remember much from the party, expect for her mother, father, older brother, and herself running as fast as they could from the doors, at the first sight of blood. She hadn’t seen much, as her entire family hadn’t. They just ran home and cried in the darkness, hoping everything would end out okay. Her Father had always been a fisherman, and knew that his 17 year old boy would soon take over the job. Ryan, the 23 year old had become a teacher, for he had never had enough strength, and though mother hated it, Dylan made a lot of the money for the family, by working mainly as a gopher at Mr. Markson A’ Marie, her Father’s brother, and doing whatever she could for him, either throwing fish from man to man, or cutting off the slippery scaled fishes’ head’s. Dylan loved her worked, and didn’t know how she ever came out as a woman.
Personality: Dylan is a very, to say the least, fiery girl. The young woman is simply obstinate, stubborn, utterly independent, opinionated, assertive, rather cocky, uncompromising, and oddly astonishing. She sticks out as such a strong character compared to the rest of her family, who follow the lines, do what they are told, and never ask questions. She is quite the opposite. She always loved to break what rules are set for herself. She loves telling herself what to do, instead of follow the orders of others. She loved to ask questions, and require as much information as possible, no matter how unimportant it may seem. And she loves to stand out in a crowd, and simply be herself. She is extremely strong, always as a grin on her face, and usually isn’t too bad of a character, though she does her have bad moments. And she knows when to suck it up, and simply do what she is told, though she will silently complain. Otherwise, she always has fun, and loves to hang out with the guys who laugh, fight, and grin. When on her good side, she is usually good tempered, shares her smart side, and is a ball of a lively good time. Otherwise, get on her bad side, you’ll stay there forever. If the hurtful action you took to this girl or one of her friends or family members, was done seriously, you’ll wish you were from another town. She is often known for harsh harassment, and is an awfully good fighter, so don’t even try to stare her down, because she’ll just jump to the fight, and roar like the tiger that she is.
Other: Dylan’s favorite item is a pair of dark blue sharp knives, used simply for fighting. These daggers are used with pure speed by her part, and she wields them with great power and force. Also, she has a wide variety of magical powers, half of which she doesn’t even know of. For, this hidden magic suddenly exploded upon her a few years ago, and ever since she had mastered what she knows of to the best of her limits. Also, though few know it, she is extremely smart, learning all she can from her brother, who now is teaching royalty.
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And two more, which were used in one-on-ones, so therefore have no set-up borderlines. Princess Nenet, from an Egyptian inspired cultured, moved to another land much different than her own. And Lady Lyneth, the headstrong daughter of Lord Everett and of England. After England takes over a small country, their high class men want their land back, and kidnap Lady Lyneth. Lyneth learns a lesson in compassion and understanding others, just as Princess Nenet does.
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Posted: Sun Dec 16, 2007 7:36 pm
Leon!
I remember that roleplay!
I also recall, looking back on it, that my character was total s**t.
Sorry for the intrusion (well, not really). But I don't think I have any characters that I'd like to play at the moment. I generally just make them suit the situation.
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Posted: Sun Dec 16, 2007 7:42 pm
Yeah, no intrusion.
Eh. I'm not in any RPs at the moment, and creating characters seems like a lot of work. Usually I'm obsessive about creating a new one for each situation, but I just don't have the time lately. So using an existing character has its appeal.
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