Your characters' appearances?

Fallen London
81

[b]

Charlotte de Witte

Gender:[/b] Female.
Race: The 4.10 at Epsom.
Age: Younger than the picture in the attic.

Height: 170cm/5’6&quot
Build: Lissom.

Skin colour: Pellucid drifting to pallid.
Eye colour: Stormy.
Hair colour: Dark brown/black.
Hair style/quantity: Long, wavy and messy. Tends to tie it in bunches or braids.

Usual clothing style: Dresses eclectically, but likes to impress. Prefers her battered green Khanate Deel (and freedom from d–med corsets). Taking tips from those very stylish devilesses.

Usual demeanor: Cheerful and very curious. Polite if possible. Can be annoyingly cryptic when trying to be clever. As with so much in life it all
depends a great deal on who is sober, and whether or not we’re trying to kill each other.

Voice: Soprano (Soubrette) - Elsewise rapid, staccato and excited

Other remarkable details: Unhealthy fascination with blood. Unusually long fingers.

Image in my head: -Cléo de Mérode

.

edited by Charlotte_de_Witte on 1/30/2016

82

8

Gender: Gender-fluid
Race: Human
Age: 29?

Height: Tall
Build: Thin

Skin color: A light tan?
Eye color: Purple? Green?
Hair color: Black, or something similarily dark
Hair style/quality: Short

Usual clothing style: They’re usually not seen anywhere without a Staveling Stole wrapped around their shoulders, fond of wearing their Ivory Gown and minijackets when feeling feminine.

Usual demeanor:

Voice:

Other remarkable details: They’re covered in scars, what with being a Monster-Hunter and all.

I’m posting this for my own future reference.

83

Psyche Labyrinth


Gender: NB
Species: Human
Race: Black
Age: A number lost to the Surface.

Height: 5’0
Build: Small framed/ thin

Skin color: Dark brown
Eye color: Black
Hair color: Black
Hairstyle/quality: TWA

Usual clothing style: Prefers the macabre and mysterious but ultimately makes decisions based on functionality and usefulness.

Usual demeanor: Quiet, unreadable, unpredictable

Voice: Constantly shifting. Light as a feather, tinkling like a bell, deep as a canyon, and sharp as a blade. One never knows what they might hear.

Other remarkable details: Wears a mask of a bird’s face at all times. No one has ever seen their real face, but it is rumored that it was shredded to pieces by the very bird of the mask and healed horrendously. The bird, however, got what it deserved.
edited by Psyche Labyrinth on 11/28/2015
edited by Psyche Labyrinth on 11/28/2015

84

Morcant, Joseph A.

Gender: Male.
Race: Human.
Age: Late twenties/early thirties.

Height: 5"9’.
Build: Gaunt, all sharp angles and hollows, moreso since he settled in the Neath.

Skin color: Pale Caucasian, bordering on sallow.
Eye color: Green as Surface-absinthe.
Hair color: Very dark brown, almost black.
Hair style: Naturally wavy.

Usual clothing style: No-nonsense and practical, with a striking preference for black he waves off as being “old habits”. Tries his best to remain reasonably tidy, but his energetic motions tend to cause disarray after some time.

Demeanor: Always brimming with insatiable curiosity. Polite and reasonably conversational, although it slowly becomes apparent that he can talk for hours whilst divulging very little about himself and his opinions. His oft-seen smile has been described as making him look “like a honey-mazed loon”, but to his core few trusted confidants (there is strong suspicion that the grand total is exactly one), he shows his natural melancholy. Surprisingly austere in his habits, and loathes honey with a passion rarely seen in Londoners.

Voice: A somewhat bright tenor, usually either chattering too fast or drawling in half-incomprehensible murmurs.

Other details: N/A

85

Gender: Female
Race: Human - presumably of Chinese and British descent given her family in Hong Kong
Age: 17, as of 1893. Arrived in Fallen London in 1889.

Height: 146.26 since 1888… and still there. One day she will hit her growth spurt! In the meantime she is frequently interrupted by adoring pats on the head by assorted aunts, monster-hunters and even fellow urchins.

Build: Lack muscles. Slightly plump, enough to let the world know she has suffered little hardship.

Skin: Probably beige? Too stupid to tell, in or out of character.

Eye: Normally black, currently stormy-eyed. Unfortunately, Estelle is not threatening enough to complement her stormy-eyes, so she just look confused and dazzled with the swirling cloud on her iris.

Hair: Black. Frustratingly lacks both luster and the ability to blend in the darkest night, or something. Usually in double side ponytail - enjoying it while youth last!

Usual clothing style: Anything that is comfortable, easy to put on, and preferrably presentable everywhere from bedroom to bathroom, Spite to Palace, Corpsecage to Carnelian Coast. Frustratingly kiddy as a result. (It is not like she didn’t try - but that subtle and sophisticated business just didn’t work out.)

Voice: Smooth and chirpy. Sounds like she is perpetually happy and interested. Alas not capable of anything else, even in extreme situation. Or maybe she just had it easy so far?

Demeanor: Perpetually interested and awed by everything! Cheerful and compassionate with the attention span of a goldfish. Persistently optimistic.

Less flatteringly, weak-willed and fear confrontations. She yields easily to opposition superficially, but refuse to learn in these cases, yet not defiant enough to stand her ground. Genuinely naïve due to her luck in avoiding the crueler side of the Neath so far.

Extremely dependent - she needs companions, or at least something to latch into. She can go out alone, sure, but if she encounter something that moves, she latches. Deep beneath, she has taken an odd liking to ganging up people and enjoying numerical advantage, but she is generally too nice to get into that sort of situations.

She meant well - and prefers everyone to come out from a situation with what they want. Generally at a loss when dealing with hostilities, which contributes to her dependency.

Occupation: In the past, waitress, courier, odd jobs there and here. It’s all about making friends with everything and coasting by on their goodwill. Somewhere along the way, she got a few bestsellers out and is now living by collecting rent. Currently running an orphanage, where she provides an out for urchins unwilling to spend their life on the street. She is not treated with especial respect from them, but affections are present.

She is technically a Notary at the Mysterie of Writers of Court Letters, but the Mysterie is more interested in the orphans in her care - several has displayed an exceptional proficiency for this line of work. She herself is definitely not. As a result, most of her paycheck actually goes directly to the children in questions.

An overly flattering portrait hanged at her lodgings and normally vandalized:

edited by Estelle Knoht on 12/5/2015

86

La Melusine

Gender: La, not le.

Race: Mais pourquoi?

Age: Older than you ought to guess, if you want to be respectable.

General dimensions: Lithe in a disquieting (differently musculatured?) sort of way. When affronted, she always seems to stretch taller than you might expect.

Complexion: Wan, with large inscrutable eyes.

Countenance: Expressive and changeable, with dominant moods of anger, sorrow, and keeping her own counsel.

General appearance: Her appearance is always meticulous, with a great deal set on personal hygiene. If she permits you to press close, expect a strange smell to linger on your clothes (some have smelled myrtle, others swear by rose water, and a very few can only describe it as &quotmusky&quot). She dresses like she is used to finery. She wears her clothes like she’s about to shed them. But you might not want her to.

General demeanor: Aristocratic and French. But there’s something wrong. Don’t ask her too many direct questions.

87

Saevitia (almost certainly a pseudonym)

Gender: Female but not really concerned by pronouns people choose, she’s a flexible sort
Race: Human, although she’s been known to sigh wistfully after devils with a sort of envy
Age: Late twenties, quite possibly even, gasp, thirty!

Height: 5’8&quot or 1.73m depending on one’s metric
Build: Broad shoulders, solid, more like a boxer than a weightlifter

Skin: All the colour one would expect from a child of mixed German/Russian heritage (i.e.: not much); prone to freckles
Eyes: Still has both, somehow; they loiter inconsiderately on a boundary between grey and blue
Hair Colour: Natural colour is dirty blonde/mousy brown, but she’s a fan of dyeing (unnatural shades preferred)
Hair Style: Hair is kept short, but not too short – sometimes she’ll grow it long enough to make a pair of teensy buns just aft of her ears; the general idea is to maintain a perfect middle-ground between &quotliability in fisticuffs&quot and &quotcushioning in case of blows to the head&quot.

Typical Dress: Dresses are a no. Pants, coats, shirts, vests… traditional &quotmasculine&quot clothing is all she owns and all she willingly wears. For nights out, it’s usually a black suit, maybe some variety of jaunty chapeau; for nights in, it’s whatever was under that black suit, meaning undergarments. If it gets particularly chilly, she may toss on a robe or blanket.

Typical Demeanor: Saevitia is usually excited about something. She tends to come across as flighty, bouncy, and with a short attention span. Most of that has to do with simply having a higher internal clock speed than others, although the regular use of stimulants, hallucinogens, and/or intoxicants certainly plays a role. &quotBrash&quot is a fair descriptor.

Voice: Middling to low, with a husky/raspy undertone. Unfortunately, she is also a fan of singing without regard for doing it well.

Other relevant details: She typically introduces herself as &quotVitya&quot to save others the trouble of deciding how to shorten her name. Also, she is a great fan of getting into fights. Brawling is a preferred way to spend time, although drinking is acceptable. The combination of the two – such as offering to take her to a bar where there is a &quottwo drink, one fight&quot minimum – is an extremely reliable way to get into her good graces. Despite her preoccupation with booze and violence, though, Vitya is a scholar at heart. She wants to know everything, right now, and is willing to conduct her own experiments to find out more. Since she’s not great at bothering with safety precautions, it is not unusual for her to be covered in soot, scorch marks, burns, and/or completely lacking eyebrows. In short: If she runs by yelling expletives, it is highly recommended you run the same direction (or at least dive for cover).

88

(Totally ganking Saevitia’s format, since I live with them and they probably won’t mind. Probably.)

Yvraine (a deliberate misspelling of Evraine, used to bolster book sales)

Gender/Sex: Female, and she uses feminine pronouns when addessed)
Race: Human
Age: Mid-thirties. She’s seen some things and been some places and has the scars, grey hairs, and developing wrinkles to show for it.[b]

Height:[/b] Middling
Build: Also middling[b]

Skin:[/b] Slightly florid in the cheeks, otherwise on the pale end of the spectrum
Eyes: A lighter shade of hazel-y brown
Hair Colour: A fetching shade of Venetian (strawberry) blonde
Hair Style: There’s a good chance there’s either a pencil or cigarette in there at any given time. For society events, she curls it to within an inch of its life, otherwise it’s usually in a loose chignon or bun.

Typical Dress: It rather depends on the occasion, doesn’t it? The life of an author and magazine editor doesn’t afford enough income for an incredible wardrobe, but she usually has one solidly constructed, in-season gown for nice events and wears clothing from years past everywhere else until it gets too shabby/honey or wine-stained/indecent to wear out. She reserves those for painting and writing. Yvraine also has quite an extensive collection of bonnets and hats for different occasions. [b]

Typical Demeanor:[/b] Yvraine takes her work seriously and chases creativity to extremes at times. People would describe her as quite fairly as &quothot and cold&quot - when engaged in something of interest or in writing, she is fervent and focused, willing to plumb unsavoury depths to get to the bottom of a store or unravel a troublesome plot. Otherwise, she acts rather like a lady - stiff and somewhat pompous.

Voice: Well-enunciated. Also also middling in tone.

89

Sir Valiant Carrington

Gender: Male
Race: British, from London itself
Age: ~32-34

Height: ~180 / 5.9
Build: athletic, on a slimmer side (and he spends a lot of effort to stay that way)
Skin colour: pale. Where does one get a healthy tan here?
Eyes: hazel
Hair: light brown, shoulder-length or a bit more, always well-groomed, usually loose
Face: poor chap recently lost his left eye in a risky adventure and still is deeply distressed, the injury spoiling his good looks and all this. He’s still quite handsome though. Always clean-shaven and well-groomed.
Voice: smooth, rich voice of experienced and trained public speaker

Usual clothing style: dandy-ish and elegant. Everything must be ideal, from boots to eye-patch. He cares greatly about his appearance and spends absurd amounts of money on appropriate clothing and accessories.

Usual demeanour: loves to be the center of attention and will always try to be one by almost all acceptable means; not succeeding this may drop his disposition rather sharply. He’ll readily be the center of a scandal if this will turn heads in his direction.
Valiant is very self-centered and narcissistic and considers himself better than majority of people, but is clever enough to hide it from others most of the time.
Despite apparent love for bohemian debaucheries and society soirees, he is a passionate scholar and sometimes even adventurer - if he can quickly return from adventure to a hot bath, soft bed and sumptuous dinner, of course. And yes, recent travel to the Elder Continent was a disaster to Valiant’s retinue, with him bossing everyone around and dramatically complaining without end.

Other personal quirks: doesn’t give a damn about other people except few close friends and a certain very reserved gentleman, although has a great number of relations who think that they are best pals.
He is really good with people, always knows what to say and how to make others like him and shamelessly uses this to his own ends.

90

MY SOUL IS MAPPED

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91

Looks rather like the carpet in my rooms after a Bohemian party.

– Mal

92

[quote=Robin Mask][quote=Hobnail]MY SOUL IS MAPPED

[spoiler]

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[spoiler/][/quote]

So many pokeballs . . .[/quote]

:roflmao: - you Sir win the forum today!

‘Neathymon! Gotta seek em all!’

@Hobnail, I’ve always looked on you as a Bosch lady (Not the dishwashers!) - but that is Impossibly Beautiful!

93

Lucan Ashfield


Gender: Male
Race: Human (surface born)
Age: 22 as of 1893
Chiropteromantic Zodiac Sign: The Bat

Height: 6’ 2&quot
Build: Lean and Wiry

Skin: Pale White
Hair: Dark Brown
Eyes: Hazel

Usual Attire: Often seen wearing a Ratskin Suit and Kingscale Boots.
Voice: Light Baritone, with a trace of a New England accent.
Face: Gaunt with a long, thin scar which runs along his left temple where the arm of a pair of glasses would lay. An inch to the right and that Black Ribbon duelist would have put her sword through his eye and out the back of his head.

Typical Demeanor: Well mannered and educated, he despises being the center of attention. Generally avoids crowds and when meeting an acquaintance at Caligula’s he insists that they sit in a corner or against a wall. He has a dark sense of humor and affects an air of cheery apathy.

Closest To: Known throughout the criminal underworld as an Enforcer for the Cheery Man, and as the leader of his own gang of hoodlums.

Backstory: Lucan was born in Boston, Massachusetts, in 1871. When he was eight his mother died of cholera, leaving him an orphan. He would have died during that first winter had it not been for another orphan, a girl a few years older than himself who had never known either parents. She would become like an older sister to him, sharing shelter and whatever meager scraps of food there were to be had. When he was thirteen, she was murdered, and he found himself alone again. With nothing left for him in Boston but grief he set to sail with some privateers and spent five years hunting pirates all across the Atlantic. At eighteen, he received his first lead on the man who killed his honorary sister. They had captured a pirate vessel just as it arrived at the entrance to the Neath and had taken half the crew alive. They knew the man, they said, and had taken him into the Neath themselves when he fled Boston half a decade ago. Lucan stuck around long enough to see them all hanged before taking the money he had saved and buying passage on a ship below.

After arriving in the Neath, he would spend another two years zailing the Unterzee aboard a merchant vessel named The Wandering Maria, working in the galley as the cook’s assistant. In 1891 The Wandering Maria was zailing near the Crying Heights, where the great birds known as Blue Prophets call out the names of those about to die. The ponderous merchant vessel was too slow to escape the winged horrors, and soon they wheeling about shrieking the names of his fellow crew and tearing holes in the hull as if it were made of tissue. Three days after The Wandering Maria went down he washed ashore in London on a battered lifeboat with the ships cat and a strong dislike of birds. After witnessing the deaths of the men and women he had zailed with for years, and convinced death would follow him forever, he walked into a Veilgarden honey den and didn’t come out for a month. When he did, a passing society gentleman made a snide remark about his crazed appearance. He responded by emptying his derringer into the gentleman’s chest. A year later the man had long since recovered from his death and Lucan was in New Newgate, plotting his escape.
edited by Lucan Ashfield on 12/10/2015

94

Absimiliard the Elder


Gender: Difficult to determine
Race: Human
Age: Late twenties, early thirties


Height: Tall for a woman, short for a man
Build: Like a runner, tight, no fat, few curves; more Atalanta than Aphrodite. With strong, sharp, features and long delicate fingers.


Skin color: white – typical for a Neath-dweller
Eye color: Impossible to tell behind the cosmogone glasses.
Hair color: Black/dark-brown.
Hair style: A lock in front, tight in back, very practical for a Zailor, very &quotNot&quot for a socialite in a gown.


Usual clothing style: Usually seen in a Navy uniform sewn from Parabolan linen dyed a shade of irrigo so dark it looks black. At social events, or in bar-brawls, they usually wear fine gown of similar material dyed in the memory of sunlight.


Usual demeanor: In uniform the Captain is confident and daring. They stand straight, if not particularly tall. When dressed for the evening you see an even more socially aggressive nature – though the words cheerful, outgoing, magnanimous, and the phrase &quotsimply MUST be in the spotlight&quot all occur to you as you watch them.


Voice: Contralto, or possibly tenor, hard to say


Other notable details: Observation over time reveals solid evidence that this person was once a dock-rat and Zailor before rising to Captain, though their habits and quirks are far more feline than murine. Even longer association will more solidly confirm the impression of feline mannerisms.

Image:

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edited by absimiliard on 5/8/2016
edited by absimiliard on 7/3/2016

95

Appolonia VonRavenscroft

Gender: Female
Race: Human
Age: Appears to be in her upper 20s

Height: Not particularly tall. Average.
Build: Slender – a ballerina’s body

Skin color: Pale as a woman who stays mostly indoors
Eye color: A pale blue that varies from the placidity of a lake to the flash of a storm at sea
Hair color: Blonde
Hair style: Elaborately pinned in a fashionable updo (see profile pic)

Features: There is a plainness to her features that could charitably be described as ‘fresh’, less so as ‘stern’, that is relieved only when she smiles. Her most common expression – her face at rest – has a slight downcast to the eyebrows which makes her look a bit bewildered and a bit sad. She blushes easily.
Ethnicity: Germanic, specifically Bavarian

Usual clothing style: She dresses predominately in shades of white (ivory, cream) with accents in black (ribbon, lace, fabric). She almost always wears a choker around her neck. Several are embroidered with chess pieces, with the Queen at the center, like a cameo. Her clothes are inevitably appropriate to the time of day and occasion, which requires frequent changes. Her gowns are expensive, and often show signs of expert tailoring to match her mood or whimsy.

Usual demeanor: Thoughtful and reserved, except with those to whom she is extremely close.

Voice: Soprano. Operatic training.

Other notable details: She is often seen with a fluffy green sorrow-spider on her shoulder. The sorrow-spider has luxuriantly long hair bound in tiny red ribbons. It looks suspiciously at anyone not well known to her in the manner of a chaperone or bodyguard, or both.

Recent portraits:


[li]
edited by Appolonia on 2/14/2016[/li][li]
edited by Appolonia on 2/14/2016[/li]
edited by Appolonia on 8/12/2016
edited by Appolonia on 8/12/2016

96

Gender: Male
Race: Soulless Russian
Age: 53 (Stuck in mid-30s)
Build: Almost tomb-colonist like slimness, despite being very alive. Seems to have a bad back, but he can run and vault over things without issue.
Hair: Black as pitch and very rarely arranged
Features: His face looks like a cutting board, but he usually conceals the scars with a special make-up every morning so that they do not identify him.
Accent: Thickly Russian, but his pronounciation and vocabulary is on point with typical British upper-class. Can imitate a wide variety of different accents with varying degrees of accuracy.

Usual Attire: He often can be found trimmed in modest but respectable garments, favoring the vest over the tailcoat. When he visits his associates in Flowerdene street, he wears whatever he can find in a pawnshop, often strengthening the material with spidersilk to protect himself.

Daily Carry: Doesn’t leave the house without his revolver and straight razor. His gun has the quirk of only jamming when aimed at someone with a noble soul. Every bullet that he fires splinters upon impact and cannot be put together by anything less than a prodigal puzzle-solver. Every shell casing has the words &quotI was never here&quot engraved along the side.
edited by The Absurd Rogue on 4/2/2016

97

Vivien Wormwood

A slight and weary gentleman of uncertain age. His suit is simple but well-made and sternly-cut and his overlong blond hair is tied back with a black silk ribbon. He speaks with eloquent dispassion. When his mouth smiles, his eyes do not.

98

Daniel Ember

Gender: technically male, though he likes to exploit his androgynous appearance whenever it suits his needs.
Race: half English, half Italian
Age: almost 40

Height: 5’6&quot
Build: the mighty build of a bookworm: he’s short, pale and scrawny. He likes reading much more than eating.
Hair: light brown, shoulder-lenght, messy.
Face: a foxy face with yellowish eyes, nose too long and lips too thin, often curled in a melliflous smile. He always seems tired, but this doesn’t stop him from looking irritating.
Voice: squeaky. He often talks too loudly, and in a high-pitched voice.

Attire: he likes long coats, capes, loose shirts and high boots. Black and red are his favourite colors. If he needs to dess up as a woman, he does it with garish and plenty of laces.
Demeanor: hyperactive, too chatty and with no sense of personal space. He may seem annoying, but he’s actually a decent fellow when he’s not drunk.
He’s often drunk.
When he’s not, he reads a lot. A witty and curious fellow, charmed by the secrets of the Neath. Such secrets can often lead to lunacy, but this never stopped him from making the wrong questions and studing the wrong Correspondence signs.
He likes to hang out with bohemians and urchins, and has a strong dislike for the law and the church. He was pretty friendly with the devils, too, until they started knocking at his door and asking for his soul.
Now his hot friends don’t really look so friendly.
Also of note: likes sharp things. Probably has at least five scalpels hidden beneath his clothes.

edited by Zeroebbasta on 2/23/2016

99

Dirae Erinyes

Gender: Fluid (Has two hearts, one from a women and one from a man. The rest of their parts are equally varied.)
Race: Steampunk Frankenstein (The parts seem to be mostly human. . .)
Age: About forty, didn’t keep good records of their early years after parents died and before meeting Morning Glory

Height: Massive (over seven foot).
Build: Broad shouldered making them more intimidating. They are well proportioned, as if their parts were specifically picked out to make a nice figure. Their frame is supported by metal gears, and support to be help with flexibility and toughened the body against wear and tear.

Skin color: Many kinds, but they have all taken a greenish tint after reanimation.
Eye color: Green eyes with a glass exterior.
Hair color: Black
Hair style/quality: Wavy, shoulder length.

Usual clothing style: The above is usually not seen, since Dirae Erinye prefers to be dress in all concealing clothes. A long dress or full suit complete with gloves, good footwear, and a cowl covering their face. Has been known to wear hats on top the cowl, with varying degrees of fashionable success. They love different patterns and designs – dark or bright. Particular fondness for armor.

Usual demeanor: Dirae Erinyes presents a friendly, boisterous exterior upon their marriage, much different to their sullen and withdrawn demeanor they had when they first came to London.

Voice: All over the place. Usually prefers a low tenor, but can reach high soprano or low bass without much difficulty.

Other remarkable details: -
With their own skills and the help of their rat friends, Dirae Erinyes can repair and modify the mechanical portions of themselves. (The fleshly bits have remained in good condition in the Neath – probably thinks to the unnatural vitality that most Londoner’s experience.) As such, they can prepare themselves for any job at hand, magnifying eyes, concealed weapons, or more exotic options. They are reluctant to demonstrate these modifications to just anyone however.

Has two tattoos - their first wife (Morning glory) in the palm of their right hand. Their left palm contains all the names that they have had (Subject 5, Galatea, Dirae Erinyes) They have Hebrew word for truth branded on their forehead.

Evensong

Gender: Female
Race: Snuffer
Age: Looks about 24-26, actual age is unknown.

Height: Average
Build: Slender but surprisingly dense.

Skin color: Fair.
Eye color: Blue
Hair color: Brown
Hair style/quality: Straight, long hair. She keeps it pinned up, but usually varies the exact style week by week.

Usual clothing style: Evensong is somber shadow compared to Dirae Erinyes. She favors high collar and long dresses in dark colors in order not draw too much attention when she’s working. This doesn’t stop her from ending in Parabola dresses with tiaras because Dirae Erinye’s insists they looks so pretty on her and Evensong is bad at saying no.

Usual demeanor: Calm and collected, the voice of reason and caution in most situations. Nothing that would make her stand out on her own.

Voice: Mezzosoprano.

Other remarkable details: This is just her most commonly seen face. The details could quite vary for other faces, let alone what’s under the face. . .
edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 5/20/2016
edited by Shadowcthuhlu on 3/6/2017

100

Passionario in Watchful gear:


edited by Passionario on 4/2/2016