Your characters' appearances?

[Huey]

Huey Nomure
Addressing: Advocate (previously), Lady (currently) (she/her)
Physical traits: Rather tall (5’9&quot, or 1.75m) and slender, leaning toward gaunt lately. Bronze curls, grey eyes, pale skin with a hint of freckles.
Attire: Form-fitting suit, white for preference, a brimmed hat from her vast collection and impeccable gloves.
Demeanor: Languid, poised, flirty, somewhat verbose. Her sadistic streak is starting to show, and there’s an off-putting hunger in her eyes since she started Seeking. Watch out when she stops smiling.

Perky Talespinner
Addressed as: Silver (she/her or they/them), although she appreciates most terms of endearment that lack a demeaning aspect (&quotpet&quot is a no-no, for example).
Physical traits: Tall (6’2&quot, or 1.88m), lean and athletic, somewhere between a free climber and a martial artist. Olive skin, long wild black hair, black eyes, sharp facial features. Nonexistent breasts.
Attire: They’re partial to elegant dresses modified for maximum mobility. When necessary, she tames (to a point) her hair into a rough tail with brightly-colored ribbons.
Demeanor: Energetic, positive, restless, headstrong. Struggles to use an indoor voice, but their footsteps are always soft. Always enjoys a challenge, but adventure is her true love. Generally kind, in a &quotrough love&quot kind of way, but Judgements help those who stand between her and her goals. A constant source of tall tales, but not just for the boasting itself: she evaluates people according to their ability to discern facts from fiction, which explains her Mystic stint and her current publishing career.

Mischievous Socialite
Addressed as: Lady, Advocate, Elphisa (she/her)
Physical traits: Rather tall (5’9&quot, or 1.75m) and slender with some hidden muscle. Bronze curls, grey eyes, pale skin with a hint of freckles. (does that remind you of someone? No, you must be mistaken)
Attire: Form-fitting suit, white for preference, brimmed hat, silk gloves.
Demeanor: Languid, poised, flirty, playful, sociable. A hopeless hedonist that holds nothing sacred. She hides her cruel streak rather well, all things considered.
edited by Huey on 5/17/2021

[masseurse]

Now that my main account is accessible again - I give you the Inquisitive Masseurse!



Name: Zemer Epitaste (née Tarshem)
Race: Human, surely?
Gender: Certainly. Which one would you like today?
Age: Late twenties? Early thirties?
Height: 1.78m
Build: Willowy, well-toned, ambiguous.
Hair: Black ringlets, approaching waste length.
Eyes: Left is green, right is gray. Black eyeliner is, with rare exception, his only concession to cosmetics.
Skin: White, with a neathborn Londoner’s pallor. There is a touch of down on her cheeks, forearms, and according to rumour - lower back.
Voice: Sultry, with a slight rasp here and there.
Manner of dress:

• While on call: a white outfit consisting of sleeveless vest, very loose and heavily pocketed pants, a broad girdle with yet more pockets, and a harness holding whatever equipment did not fit in said pockets. She works barefoot.
• On social occasions: usually an ostentations gown, often with clashing colors; and startlingly high heels.
• In informal settings: very little. Sometimes, the harness from his work outfit; except with nothing underneath. More often, a short and brightly dyed peticoat. A sash or two are not unheard of.

Other traits of note:

• Fingers. Their length verges on the disproportionate; and while counting the joints on these fingers will readily dismiss the illusion of their supernumerary quantity, they are certainly very prominent.
• Timna and Etsion, the Clay pair carrying the Masseurse’s sedan and equipment, are dressed like medieval pages. They are apparently used to very egalitarian treatment, though Mister Etsion has the courtesy to not make that fact obvious to strangers.
• Smells quite strongly of frankincence, ylang-ylang, and sometimes less readily recognizable oils.

[lacrymae]

After a while I decided to get into the forums more; I only really use two characters for RP, which are Vlad/The Lethargic Enforcer & Lacri/The Ethereal Versifier. So, those are the ones I’ll do for this in this updated reference.

----°-----

Lacri Edelstein
Gender:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Female[/color]
Race:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Human[/color]
Age:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] 25 as for 1899[/color]

Height:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] 5’2ft / 157 cm[/color]
Build:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Curvy, slightly chubby and with a noticeable bust.[/color]

Skin color:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Pale, almost ghostly.[/color]
Eye color:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Cerulean blue.[/color]
Hair color:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Blonde, naturally. Parts of it, like the tips, have been dyed with apocyan-color. For the aesthetic, she says.[/color]
Hair style/quality:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Wavy and poofy; around mid-back lenght, often put into various hairstyles: a lower bun, a mid braid, braids, side plaid or even a ponytail but the last one is rare. Incredibly soft to the touch, for she grooms it and takes meticulous care of it every morning and night.[/color]

Usual clothing style:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Lady Lacri favours different hues of blue, black and - ocassionally - some golden in her clothes, to accentuate her feautures (she knows she’s beautiful, and tries to play up the charm in order to seduce her way out of trouble). She loves chiffon, ribbons and lace; you’ll never catch her in a suit, for she prefers traditionally feminine clothing: dresses and skirts, high heels and ballerinas. Very rarely she’ll use heavy makeup or jewelry, and said jewelry is often Cosmogone or Apocyan.[/color]

Usual demeanor:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Sweet of demeanor and kind to whoever she meets, whether they’re fingerkings, devils, thugs or a bohemian in need. Misunderstood; ethereal; gentle. Deep within her lies a hedonistic, alluring demeanor, but that really comes out when she a) needs to secure a deal or b) around her loved one, one of the many longshanks of London. She willingly associates with the devils of London, being utterly fascinated with them - and perhaps as a protest against the Church, but she hides her secrets so well it’s hard to tell. An incredibly sentimental Nocturnal with a verbosa language to match.[/color]

Voice:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] A sweet-sounding mezzosoprano. Her accent is somwhere between Romanian and Bavarian, with a slight hint of French, which makes her exact ethnicity hard to determinate. [/color]

Other remarkable details:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] [/color]

• [color=rgb(194, 194, 194)]There’s multiple marks and bruises in her pale skin; scratches and knife cuts mostly. You wouldn’t like to snoop around too much, would you?[/color][/li][li][color=rgb(194, 194, 194)]Her aura is comparable to the Captivating Princess’, but much, much lowkey. What relationship those two have, it’s a mystery. She does, however, try to campaign for Hell and bohemian causes.[/color]

----°-----


Vlad Cristea
Gender:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Male[/color]
Race:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Human[/color]
Age:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] 29 as for 1899[/color]

Height:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] 5’7ft / 170 cm[/color]
Build:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Athletic, not excessively muscular but doesn’t lack for it either. Has some fat from all the Prisoner’s Honey he binges.[/color]

Skin color:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Pale, sickly.[/color]
Eye color:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Olive green.[/color]
Hair color:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Dirty blonde; in the half-darkness of the Neath, often mistaken for brunette.[/color]
Hair style/quality:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Straight, and really messy; it is kept short to ear-lenght, although side hair covers his ears a little (it’s also insanely hard to keep brushed - every time he has tried to brush it, it’ll be worse than a wasp’s nest in a matter of minutes). Though it used to be really greasy and dirty due to not taking care of himself often, nowadays he’s cleaner and it is reflected in his hair.[/color]

Usual clothing style:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Vlad isn’t a fan of fashion. He’ll wear whatever it’s more comfortable for his work; that said, he enjoys worksman boots for their resistance, perfect for whenever he has to run after his target. He mostly enjoys browns, accents of yellow and grey for his clothes - almost always they have faint traces of blood, whether stains or smell. More often than not he’ll wear black gloves so he won’t leave evidence in the crime scene. Likes to roll up his sleeves, it makes him feel a little more threatening, he says.[/color]

Usual demeanor:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] Curt; terse; timid. Those words define the Licentiate rather well. Vlad’s a naturally withdrawn person and more akin to a gruff stray dog in human’s skin than anything else: he feels threatened when touched or watched for too long, he’ll growl at those who present a danger to himself or his loved ones, and he’s incredibly devoted and loyal to those he considers of a trusted circles. Ruthless, melancholic and, despite being a bit dazed, demonstrates that he’s a predator when it comes to pursuing his mark: no mercy and no truce for them. A fan of delicious food and chill towards those he likes.[/color]

Voice:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] A growly baritone, his accent is, unmistakably, Romanian - specifically from the region of Transylvania. However, a good listener will noticed the faint trace of New Yorker accent, more evident in how he speaks American english.[/color]

Other remarkable details:[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)] [/color]

• Tattoos on his shoulders, upper back and arms; one commemorate New Newgate, where everything started, back when he started to plot his revenge quest.[/li][li]Multiple scars on his left arm, due to always using it to block attacks.[/li][li]Bite marks from his multiple pets.

[Atlas_J]

This thread hasn’t been added to in awhile but I’m bringing it back because I was about to make a similar one and want to see people’s characters and also talk about mine.

My PC, the Esoteric Correspondent, Atlas does not cut a particularly large nor intimidating figure and isn’t all that broken up about it.

Standing at 168cm, he is fairly thin and has the kind of wiry muscle that is only built out of necessity. His skin is quite dark, his hair long, but to be honest I still haven’t made up my mind about whether I imagine him with braids or locs. He has bags under red-brown eyes and a smattering of scars on his face, with many more on his torso and legs from Black Ribbon fights, monster hunts, Zailing mishaps, and general Neathly hazards. In terms of specific example, 3 of his knife scars are from when he was stabbed on 3 separate occasions for 3 separate reasons (mugging, academic rival, Jack). His hands are very scarred as well, and more often than not sport bandages from overambitious Correspondence studies or disregard for lab safety (if not both); due to this, he has pain and mobility issues that can flare up rather badly on occasion.

His standard mode of dress is formal, although he does carry at least 2 concealed knives (one being a “Completely Unassuming Palaeontological Accessory”), and he is a fan of red.

[Stanley]

@soran

a bit like a crow who’s undergone some heavy elocution classes.

I love this…I only developed my character identity as I played through this game, but I’m feeling inspired now so maybe I’ll write something about Stanley later.

[Nolongeranidiot]

OHHHH-this thread is great! Thanks Atlas!

THE GREAT JACK WALKER:

Gender: did you ever hear about that time somebody called David Bowie a homophobic slur for wearing a dress and he responded with *actually I think I’m quite pretty" and went about his way? That!

Race: technically entirely human but has gone through multiple cosmetic shapeling arts powdered changes to his body which. Will be detailed later. White.

Age: 27 years old

Height: around 5’7

Build: slim but athletic-clearly does alot of Aerobic exercise.

Eye color: as a result of being a monster hunter, his eyes are entirely peligin with no pupils(yes, I know the lore says only the pupils turn peligin but honestly I think this fits more)

Heir color and style: black short and well cuampt in a way that projects importance.

Clothing style: adores fancy suits and dresses, usually black, white or blue and nearly always with at least a bit of jewelry on it. he HAS to stand out-after all, someone as amazing as him can’t be in the background! That’s absurd!

Usual demeanor: flashy, energetic and politely threatening in a quite charming way that makes it clear that he could cut your head in seconds if he wanted to but that, fortunately for you, he doesn’t. Utterly In love with himself and with the neath and it’s pleasures-and of course with his bewildering procession of partners who he loves very much. Doesn’t care much for social pressures and largely ignores them. occasionally goes entirely feral on a hunt and losses himself entirely.

Voice: surprisingly deep and yet somehow extremely sweet-enough that he’s been mistaken for a not particularly well disguised devil by layman on a few occasions.

Other notable features:

-The aforementioned shapeling arts alterations include very Sharp, tiger like teeth, pointed, claw-like fingers and a long, panther like tail-all of which cost him a fortune in wine paid to The Shouting Monks, none of which he regrets.

-Has a paculier fondness for urchins and a far greater fondness for cats.

-always plays Chess with the boatman and enjoyed that quite alot. After evolution…well, lets just say he enjoys it alot less.

-has a tattoo of a massive zee-beast on his back. Plans to expand it next feast of the rose into a full tattoo of London overlooking the zee.

This was fun! This was really fun! Hope this helps revive this thread.

[Nolongeranidiot]

Good luck! Have fun!

(“Man are cute, woman are cute, what do you want from me!?”-a mood)

[somenotoriousnobleman]

Oh dear. This took far longer than necessary, but for whatever reason I decided to draw my main myself. It took quite a few hours, so here’s the prototype character sketch. probably’ll take forever to finish for both of my characters.

[Nolongeranidiot]

Oh yes, it will definitely take forever. You should do it anyway-art always takes forever I’m afraid. EDIT: i also like how you draw the main stat symbals! they are very nice.

[Atlas_J]

your style is really fun, there’s something quite satisfying about the blockiness

[Atlas_J]

Hi so I had a really good time reading this, would it bother you if I drew your fine fellow?

[Nolongeranidiot]

not at all! infact, i’d be very much glad if you do.

[JS]

J.S. (Jay)

Gender: Male
Race: Most recent ancestry is Welsh, Celt, and Anglo-Saxon
Age: Late Twenties

Height: 5’5 (approx.)
Build: Slim, soft, hints of masculine musculature; wiry but firm arms and legs, boney chest, slight barrel. Occasionally described as diminutive, even androgynous.

Skin color: Very fair, dark freckles
Eye color: Light, almost luminous green
Hair color: Goat black/sable. On close inspection, an observer may notice singular, interspersed strands of gray or white; hair difficient or lacking in melanin.
Hair style/quality: Straight, jaw-length, brushed but unkempt, lacking in style.

Usual clothing style: Upper class standard masculine; suit vests, suit jackets, cuffed and collared shirts, slacks, dress shoes. Prefers dark or neutral colors. Heavily favours dress that obstructs view of his body without drawing too much attention, even dress that skirts the line of antiquated or strange for the Neath, like hooded rain/traveling cloaks. Frequently employs Neathian color (irrigo, specifically) to divert attention. Those who are unacquainted with him commonly mistake him for a member of the Midnight Mass. Thankfully, the Cosmogone spectacles always clear things up.

Usual demeanor: Cryptic and ponderous, Jay has played many parts and many people for many reasons over the years, and he’s gotten quite good at it. Too good. Below the surface of a practiced performer lies a thoughtful and melancholic young lush, one who loves too easily, one who is anxious about futures and woes he predicts too well. Ever seeking but rarely knowing, Jay has become strange and reckless in his methods, but his ways frequently illustrate a man of mystique, passion, and faith. He desires to free himself and others from their burdens. He needs to know and feel much, even if it should cause him pain. He will create beautiful things, and he will protect them.

Voice: Tenor, soft-spoken; Jay prefers not to shout. Anything worth saying can be whispered or hummed or even growled with the same power. His most common tone is one of pleasant, distant surety. Pleasure and agony come. Do not fear them, drink them, savour.

Other remarkable details: Jay has, well, had, a condition, one that most Londoners now functionally share. The Sun didn’t used to immolate him, no, but it was exceedingly painful, and some of the souvenirs he acquired from it will never fully heal. The dark freckles that litter his center-face, his shoulders, his upper arms and much of his chest and upper back are one of the more charming examples of scarring. Despite having no fear of JUDGEMENT while hiding below, amongst his fellow Fallenites, he still remembers - and memories die hard. Is it fear that causes him to cover up from head to toe in bulky, hooded overcloaks, or is it nostalgia…?

.,.,.,.,.,.

This is a great thread! Next I’ll hit up the backstory one that was recently created by somenotoriousnobleman, preferably after I can use a keyboard again… T AT

If you’re interested in writing, you guys should check it out too. Its called ‘Who’s That Player?’

[captainbloodstorm]

Captain Blood Storm (real name unknown, named by urchins), formerly The Dawnburnt Vake-Rider

Gender: Male. Mostly.
Race: Human. Theoretically. The implications of finishing Bag a Legend on any route are…interesting, despite not attaining his Heart’s Desire™ there. By now he also has a bit of Stone Pig heart, a dash of sea monster-like genetic adaptation, a generous touch of Hell, a regular diet of Parabolan things, whatever long-term exposure to Correspondence, Discordance and the Dawn Machine’s light entails, and various other alterations. It is probably a Samus situation where despite outwardly seeming as and able to biologically function as male, at this point he is basically a snarl of Red Sceince and illegal life-essences crudely welded into the shape of a human being)
Age: Debatable due to frequent Waswood/Irem exposure

Height: Seven feet when not unravelling bones like snakes and making muscles flow like wax with the Shapeling Arts, unverified otherwise
Build: Like a lifetime combat athlete, or a tiger
Skin color: An unnatural palor, akin to certain deep-sea fish
Eye color: Grey. No, not a shade of blue; actually grey thunderclouds from long-term Storm exposure
Hair color: Platinum blonde
Hair style/quality: Ranges wildly between military cut to long, flowing beard and unwashed locks depending on his current focus. Usually reaches a medium of heavy stubble but roughly cut short hair.

Usual clothing style: An eclectic mix of accessories, hanger-ons and sometimes actual clothing calculated specifically to maximise certain outfits. Never leaves the house without meticulously calculating how much pomp and circumstance one requires to be maximally Respectable, or how to be as Dreaded as humanly able even before terrorising other Londoners atop a shrieking predatory horror of Parabola.

Usual demeanor: Barely restrained savagery, paranoia and aggression. In mentality, if not in body, approximately akin to a particularly dim Curator prone to hoarding treasures and strategic advantages while regarding rivals with baleful apprehension. It is immediately clear to all but the least sentient or most delusional that he will not hesitate to kill.

Voice: A really gravelly baritone, sometimes containing alien melodies. Also conflagrations or patches of spreading ice.

Other remarkable details:

-Has loathed mortality since long before any information about the ultimate fate of all souls in the Blue Kingdom was revealed. Despite not officially accomplishing one from his own Ambition, has multiple contingencies for ultimate immortality set up ranging from his purchased Firkin of Hesperidean Cider, to a large collection of notes on the Discordance and Red Science on the other of duplicating one’s existence (or non-existence. His city-self is the most promising success thus far, an Anti-Liberationist leviathan with a certain Lackey as it’s high priest that gnaws at Hell’s borders), to a certain bargain with a Fingerking in a future that may or may never come, to the establishment of his Parabolan Base-Camp as a power to be reckoned with. This loathing is most directly transferred to the Prester, who if nothing else is directly in the way of one of the first known forms of immortality.

-His only regret for Bagging a Legend is not taking the surgery to animate his teeth before the dentist capable of that feat mysteriously vanished. Considers himself the successor to the Vake as London’s apex predator, and Curator Veils to be as much an extension of himself as the original entity. As a Hierarch of the Hunt, one of his preferred forms of immortality would be a hypothetical Lacoonian apotheosis in which he amalgamates with his pet and the nightmares of all their slain quarry to become the nightmare of the ultimate lifeform, the god of predation itself, a hunter that is neither Is or Not.

-Values romance strictly on a strategic basis, ruling out most human spouses. Despite that, enjoys the support of his Platonic Eminence Grise if only because her networks give him just enough leverage to ensure the Inculcating Kraken’s schemes earn him a steady income. The Inculcating Kraken considers itself his true spouse.

-Has no future. Drew the Tower from Irem’s loom, and intends to wield it as a threat of extortion against the stars themselves. Dreams of having a star surrender itself utterly to him, and eating it’s heart once all it’s other defences have been stripped away.

-What little humanity he has left consists of a twisted respect for others who show the strength, cunning and will to carve their own path. Valuable allies at best, and worthy opponents at worst. A friend to Heorot, despite being a fearsome tale-pillager to the rest of the flit. Sincerely congratulated the Youthful Naturalist for achieving true freedom from death. Took the Efficient Commissioner into his inner circle after proving her mettle despite dismissing her earlier. Has sunk many Corsairs, is esteemed by the rest. Is mildly confused that the Captivating Princess, formerly an entity he deemed his greatest rival in London, seems to be actually putting effort into being captivating these days instead of competing with his body count.

-Is the favoured champion of the Red-Handed Queen. Is ambivalent about this. Does not believe his patron has his best interests at heart, but considers all aspects of reality to prove the Beleaguered King a fool at best and a conman at worst.

-May or may not be a distant relative to the royal family. Given that Mr. Mirrors initially inducted him into the House of Chimes for something else, he considers it likely to be a convenient lie the Masters have found useful for the past few years.

-Has been mugging the same little old lady for horror stories year after year. Somehow, this has been a reliable way of being among the most influential Londoners despite his generally inhuman behaviour.

-Is starting to suspect the little old lady is using him as a cheap distributor