Charlotte_de_Witte
Posts: 360
11/21/2015
|
Charlotte de Witte
Gender: Female.
Race: The 4.10 at Epsom.
Age: Younger than the picture in the attic.
Height: 170cm/5'6"
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
--
"Do one thing for me, Sredni Vashtar."
Social actions welcome. Only, send me dupes if you need help with the Affluent Photographer please, I like the bats! [And boxed kitties, and extreme gardening]- Thank-you!
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Charlotte%20de%20Witte
|
|
|
+4
link
|
Erika
Posts: 528
11/27/2015
|
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.
--
 Where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep.
Going on a fate expedition? I'm collecting data! Help me?
"Bottles of Oblivion" drunk in the name of content: 57
Catboxes (send more!) opened in the name of science: 1093
Fancy a friend?
|
|
|
+2
link
|
Psyche Labyrinth
Posts: 159
11/28/2015
|
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
--
Neath citizen, zee captain, possible deranged serial killer...
Profile
Backstory
Appearance
Always happy to meet new people and help out where I can!
|
|
|
+2
link
|
Morcant
Posts: 30
12/3/2015
|
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
--
Joseph Morcant, the Wan Detective -- http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Morcant
Joscelin Kenway, the Peligin Lurker (or the Caustic Playwright, depending on where and when you encounter them) -- http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Joscelin~Kenway
|
|
|
+2
link
|
Estelle Knoht
Posts: 1751
12/5/2015
|
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:
[spoiler] [/spoiler]
edited by Estelle Knoht on 12/5/2015
--
Estelle Knoht, a juvenile, unreliable and respectable lady.
I currently do not accept any catbox, cider, suppers, calling cards or proteges.
|
|
|
+7
link
|
La Melusine
Posts: 7
12/7/2015
|
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 "musky"). 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.
--
"'Ha, valyaunt Serseul, how ofte haue I sene your mortal enemyes tofore your presence that neuer ye were aferd, and now for a serpent of femenyne nature ye shake for fere..."
|
|
|
+5
link
|
Saevitia
Posts: 58
12/7/2015
|
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" 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 "liability in fisticuffs" and "cushioning in case of blows to the head".
Typical Dress: Dresses are a no. Pants, coats, shirts, vests... traditional "masculine" 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. "Brash" 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 "Vitya" 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 "two drink, one fight" 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).
--
Saevitia's profile and appearance! [Gone NORTH]
Now playing Esméralda, Saevitia's former helmswoman and moralistic Campaigner; she looks like this.
I'm usually up for RP. Social actions are generally accepted; those with in-character RP invitations are most likely to be reciprocated.
|
|
|
+3
link
|
Yvraine
Posts: 3
12/8/2015
|
(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.
Height: Middling
Build: Also middling
Skin: 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.
Typical Demeanor: Yvraine takes her work seriously and chases creativity to extremes at times. People would describe her as quite fairly as "hot and cold" - 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.
--
No Affluent Photographer or bags of critters, please.
|
|
|
+2
link
|
Valiant
Posts: 115
12/8/2015
|
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.
--
Sir Valiant Carrington, a heartless hedonist and honorary governor of Port Carnelian. You can ask him for a sip of Cider (here's how by an_ocelot) if you catch him in London.
Farshin Jarrah, merry trickster and incorrigible optimist.
Serine, gone down the well but not forgotten.
Avatar artwork by lovely Farseer Drijya
|
|
|
+1
link
|
Hobnail
Posts: 179
12/8/2015
|
MY SOUL IS MAPPED
--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Hobnail
|
|
|
+6
link
|
malthaussen
Posts: 1060
12/8/2015
|
Looks rather like the carpet in my rooms after a Bohemian party.
-- Mal
--
"Of two choices, I always take the third."
Will do all socials except Loitering or Private Evenings (all my Free Evenings are accounted for), and Affluent Photographer Betrayals only, please. I am not currently accepting calling cards.
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/malthaussen
|
|
|
+3
link
|
Mr Sables
Posts: 597
12/8/2015
|
Hobnail wrote:
MY SOUL IS MAPPED
[spoiler]
[spoiler/]
So many pokeballs . . .
|
|
|
+7
link
|
Charlotte_de_Witte
Posts: 360
12/8/2015
|
Robin Mask wrote:
Hobnail wrote:
MY SOUL IS MAPPED
[spoiler]
[spoiler/]
So many pokeballs . . .
 - 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!
--
"Do one thing for me, Sredni Vashtar."
Social actions welcome. Only, send me dupes if you need help with the Affluent Photographer please, I like the bats! [And boxed kitties, and extreme gardening]- Thank-you!
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Charlotte%20de%20Witte
|
|
|
+2
link
|
Lucan Ashfield
Posts: 7
12/9/2015
|
Lucan Ashfield
Gender: Male
Race: Human (surface born)
Age: 22 as of 1893
Chiropteromantic Zodiac Sign: The Bat
Height: 6' 2"
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
|
|
|
+3
link
|
Guest
12/9/2015
|
Until recently I would have said for you to use your damn imagination. However, that now has changed.
|
|
|
0
link
|
absimiliard
Posts: 759
2/13/2016
|
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 "Not" 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 "simply MUST be in the spotlight" 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:
[spoiler]
[/spoiler]
edited by absimiliard on 5/8/2016
edited by absimiliard on 7/3/2016
--
"Because, Parabola!" -- the Curious Captain
Eating nightmares from friends -- and I'm easy to befriend.
Absimiliard: the Black Rose of Wolfstack Docks
|
|
|
+2
link
|
Appolonia
Posts: 248
2/14/2016
|
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:
[spoiler]   
[/spoiler]
edited by Appolonia on 2/14/2016
edited by Appolonia on 2/14/2016
edited by Appolonia on 8/12/2016
edited by Appolonia on 8/12/2016
--
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Appolonia%20VonRavenscroft
|
|
|
+2
link
|
The Absurd Rogue
Posts: 1049
2/15/2016
|
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 "I was never here" engraved along the side.
edited by The Absurd Rogue on 4/2/2016
--
"There is never another story. There is only one, and I try to tell it with every page. I fail, and I try again. There are no new stories; I have this one."
-S.N
RemainProfane#2532
|
|
|
+2
link
|
Wormwood
Posts: 17
2/16/2016
|
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.
|
|
|
0
link
|
Zero
Posts: 136
2/23/2016
|
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"
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
--
SEND ME CHESS AND I SHALL RECIPROCATE
Daniel Ember - Once a doctor. Now something else.
My Twine games
|
|
|
+2
link
|