WIP
OP
Name: Kieran Gallagher
Age: 10
Gender: Male
Personality:
Few people have a perfectly consistent personality, and Kieran is certainly no exception. Actually, perhaps this applies to him even more so than it does others. Kieran is emotionally unstable, gets bored easily and is typically a bit of a reckless risk-taker, though he's not entirely fearless. His moods are constantly changing, and he seems to be quick to jump to paranoid conclusions. As a result of this, and his absolute lack of a filter on his words and opinions, he has considerable difficulty forming and maintaining relationships.
Despite his unpredictability and apparent lack of social decorum, Kieran is also fairly intelligent and extremely loyal. He often acts like someone who would ditch his allies on a whim, but in actuality he's more trusting than he is trustworthy and would never leave behind someone who claimed to be his companion.
On a side note to his sense of loyalty, he has an intense fear of abandonment, which isn't helped by the fact that he only really has one friend who he relies far too heavily on. He tends to become even more unstable when left alone, and constantly dreads the thought thought of being betrayed or left behind.
Bio:
Kieran, up until he was kidnapped, had a pretty normal middle-class childhood. His parents emigrated to the U.S from Ireland when he was five years old, only two months before he was kidnapped from school. He never knew, but his parents were shot to keep them from reporting him as lost. They hadn't been in the country long enough for anyone to realize that they'd gone until years later, and few efforts were made to locate any of them.
Now in the hands of Bane, Kieran did his level best to gain Bane's approval. Incidentally, he actually became a rather talented thief and his weapon skills were nothing to scoff at either, especially for a mentally unhinged child. However, he was far from the best and Bane had little time to spare for anyone other than the select few he seemed to raise personally. As a matter of fact, Bane eventually became annoyed with the kid, often sending him on more difficult missions with the hopes that his lack of judgement would be his undoing. In the face of Bane's disregard, Kieran only became more set into the idea that he was a reject, that he would always be left alone. Though, soon after he gained the friendship of Snake, who quickly became his only real reason for persevering, but it was more than enough to regain his morale. Though he always got the feeling that a lot of things were being hidden from him, but he never bothered to ask many questions for fear he would lose the trust of his only friend.
After Bane was killed --no great loss to Kieran, naturally--, he wound up back on his own in the streets. Though this had a considerable impact on his sanity, he managed to convince himself that Snake would return at some unknown point. Despite several setbacks, including the loss of his left eye at the hands of the Knights, he managed to survive and improve upon his skills as a criminal.
Weapon: Machete, tri-blade dagger
Skill with Weapon: 55 (Machete) 30 (Dagger)
Appearance:
Kieran is four feet tall exactly, weighing an unhealthily low 40 pounds. His sickly pale skin is marred with freckles and several scars, the most noticeable being under his right eye. His left eye is missing, having been gouged out in a fight about a year ago. He usually covers the empty socket with a white eye patch, which is usually covered by his light brown hair. His one remaining eye is large and dark grey, with a lackluster and hollow appearance.
Extra: Kieran is Irish, left handed, has a bad habit of biting his hands when nervous and can't stand high pitched noises. Because of his missing eye, he has impaired peripheral vision and depth perception.
Though naturally this has never been professionally diagnosed, Kieran has Borderline Personality Disorder.
Age: 10
Gender: Male
Personality:
Few people have a perfectly consistent personality, and Kieran is certainly no exception. Actually, perhaps this applies to him even more so than it does others. Kieran is emotionally unstable, gets bored easily and is typically a bit of a reckless risk-taker, though he's not entirely fearless. His moods are constantly changing, and he seems to be quick to jump to paranoid conclusions. As a result of this, and his absolute lack of a filter on his words and opinions, he has considerable difficulty forming and maintaining relationships.
Despite his unpredictability and apparent lack of social decorum, Kieran is also fairly intelligent and extremely loyal. He often acts like someone who would ditch his allies on a whim, but in actuality he's more trusting than he is trustworthy and would never leave behind someone who claimed to be his companion.
On a side note to his sense of loyalty, he has an intense fear of abandonment, which isn't helped by the fact that he only really has one friend who he relies far too heavily on. He tends to become even more unstable when left alone, and constantly dreads the thought thought of being betrayed or left behind.
Bio:
Kieran, up until he was kidnapped, had a pretty normal middle-class childhood. His parents emigrated to the U.S from Ireland when he was five years old, only two months before he was kidnapped from school. He never knew, but his parents were shot to keep them from reporting him as lost. They hadn't been in the country long enough for anyone to realize that they'd gone until years later, and few efforts were made to locate any of them.
Now in the hands of Bane, Kieran did his level best to gain Bane's approval. Incidentally, he actually became a rather talented thief and his weapon skills were nothing to scoff at either, especially for a mentally unhinged child. However, he was far from the best and Bane had little time to spare for anyone other than the select few he seemed to raise personally. As a matter of fact, Bane eventually became annoyed with the kid, often sending him on more difficult missions with the hopes that his lack of judgement would be his undoing. In the face of Bane's disregard, Kieran only became more set into the idea that he was a reject, that he would always be left alone. Though, soon after he gained the friendship of Snake, who quickly became his only real reason for persevering, but it was more than enough to regain his morale. Though he always got the feeling that a lot of things were being hidden from him, but he never bothered to ask many questions for fear he would lose the trust of his only friend.
After Bane was killed --no great loss to Kieran, naturally--, he wound up back on his own in the streets. Though this had a considerable impact on his sanity, he managed to convince himself that Snake would return at some unknown point. Despite several setbacks, including the loss of his left eye at the hands of the Knights, he managed to survive and improve upon his skills as a criminal.
Weapon: Machete, tri-blade dagger
Skill with Weapon: 55 (Machete) 30 (Dagger)
Appearance:
Kieran is four feet tall exactly, weighing an unhealthily low 40 pounds. His sickly pale skin is marred with freckles and several scars, the most noticeable being under his right eye. His left eye is missing, having been gouged out in a fight about a year ago. He usually covers the empty socket with a white eye patch, which is usually covered by his light brown hair. His one remaining eye is large and dark grey, with a lackluster and hollow appearance.
Extra: Kieran is Irish, left handed, has a bad habit of biting his hands when nervous and can't stand high pitched noises. Because of his missing eye, he has impaired peripheral vision and depth perception.
Though naturally this has never been professionally diagnosed, Kieran has Borderline Personality Disorder.
OP
Ivan Mikhailovich Vasiliev
Character Summary
Name: Ivan Levin Mikhailovich
Aliases: None. He hates nicknames.
Age: 10
Birthday: November 12th
Birth Place: A lovely house in Troikovsky, Russia
Current State of Residence: An orphanage in Pine Lake, Colorado
Gender: Male
Appearance
Height: 4 feet
Weight: 40 pounds
Eyes: Light blue
Hair: Blond
Skin Tone: Very pale
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: None that are at all remarkable
Personal Style: Ivan dresses in exclusively neutral colors such as black, grey, white and occasionally brown. His typical style is a bit more formal than most kids, choosing sweater vests, ties and slacks over t shirts, jeans and sneakers. As such, he's a bit put off by the camp's dress code.
He is very neat in appearance, keeping himself very clean and well dressed. He always looks as though he were attending some somber, formal occasion such as a funeral rather than a casual camp. His style, as such, very well matches his attitude.
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Traits that define your character
Quiet * Anxious * Stiff * Shy
Sexuality: Too young to really know, but he's mostly had crushes on boys.
Personality: Ivan is quiet, mostly because his English isn't very good but also because he's extremely shy. When interacting with others, he seems stiff and unfriendly, speaking in a hushed and hurried voice and stammering. He's very sensitive and is easily made upset, especially when asked about his past or his parents. He'll often go days without ever speaking to anyone, or even leaving his room. He's reluctant to try new things, preferring to stick with what he knows.
Habits: Bites his knuckles when nervous, ties his shoes with triple bows
Hobbies: Reading, playing piano
Fears:
- Snakes
- Heights
Likes:
- The dark
- Quiet spaces
- Classical music
- Cats
- Chocolate
- Sweaters
Dislikes: 6 minimal
- Loud noises
- Bright lights
- Bitter foods
- Loud, annoying people
- Most music
- Pain
History
History: Ivan was born to rich parents in a small town in Russia. He and his four older siblings lived in comfort and were generally a happy family. Ivan attended school a year ahead of where he was supposed to be as his parents believed he was intelligent enough to handle harder work. Then when he was only five years old, his parents and siblings were killed in a fire while he was away at a friends house. He spent the next five years of his life in an orphanage.
Around his tenth birthday, the staff at the orphanage noticed that Ivan hadn't been faring well. He'd become weak and sickly, refusing to eat or even leave his room most of the time. He didn't interact with the other children, most of whom only wanted to pick on him anyways. On top of that, he was falling behind in his studies and his English wasn't where it should be. Afraid that he was going to become to sick and depressed to be adopted, the orphanage decided to send him to camp to improve his English and social skills.
Extras
Character Quote: "Цель оправдывает средства" - The ends justify the means
Anything Else: He's allergic to dairy and garlic.
OP
Character Summary
Name: Ciel Doran Jaquith
Aliases: None. Ciel refuses to be called anything other than his proper name.
Age: 12
Birthday: December 16th
Ethnicity: Ashkenazi Jewish, half French and half Polish.
Birth Place: Watford, Georgia (Fictional town)
Location: Somewhere in the woods on the outskirts of the state of Georgia
Gender: Male
Major/Minor: N/A, though he planned to go to medical school and major in psychiatry.
Occupation: Student, Domestic
Languages: English, learning French and Hebrew
Appearance
Height: 4'8.
Weight: 49 pounds
Build: Emaciated and frail
Eyes: Light blue, almost grey
Hair: Platinum blond
Skin Tone: Sickly pale
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: A few scars and scratches, but nothing noteworthy
Psychology
Headstrong * Arrogant * Intelligent * Sensitive
Sexuality: Unknown, leaning towards asexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Ciel is proper and mature for his age, but he is also curt, stiff and a bit arrogant. He is distrustful of most people, having doubts about the loyalty of even his closest friends. Despite this, he would never betray anyone who trusts him. He is loyal and headstrong, however this also makes him sensitive and easily embarrassed. When upset, he shuts down and refuses to speak, not wanting to seem weak in front of others. He prizes his maturity above all else, and would be humiliated if he were ever treated like the child he is.
Ciel rarely smiles and never laughs unless drunk or otherwise out of his right mind. His rare smiles usually come in the form of curt little smirks, usually prompted by people who amuse his dry sense of humor. Ciel also enjoys riddles, logic puzzles and mind games.
Despite mentally and logically functioning at the same level as any adult, in truth Ciel is weak and sickly. He’s lived a life of relative comfort and is dependent on others for basic survival needs. If left on his own, he would likely die within a fortnight. He knows this and because of it he tries his best not to get on anyone’s bad side. Someone as weak and dependent as him must be equally amicable and useful in order to survive.
Habits: He talks in his sleep, bites his knuckles and nails when nervous, paces when thinking deeply and ties his shoelaces with triple knotted bows.
Hobbies: Drawing.
Fears:
- Heights
- Spiders
- Being forcibly restrained/unable to move
Likes:
- Dogs
- Tea
- Candy of all sorts
- Reading
- Sweaters
- Classical music
- Watching political debates
- Logic puzzles, mind games and riddles
- Though he’d never admit to it, he enjoys being touched, held and cuddled
Dislikes:
- Seeming weak or incompetent
- People discovering his secrets
- Being sick or injured
- The smell of wet paint
- Milk
- Cats
- Coffee
- Sleeping
Cards On The Table
Pre Outbreak Skills:
- Logic and general craftiness (Puzzle solving, improvisation, etc.)
- Drawing and mapmaking
Post Outbreak Skills:
- Marksmanship (bow, crossbow)
- Marksmanship (light rifles)
- Knives
- Sneaking, hiding and general stealth
Current Supplies:
- Current Clothing - A light grey hooded jacket that’s a bit large on him with two front pockets. A plain white t shirt that fits him perfectly and is in surprisingly mint condition. A pair of dark grey jeans that are a bit long and are held up with a black leather belt. One white sock and one grey-and-black striped sock. And finally, a pair of ratty and worn out red sneakers, two sizes too small.
- Hiking boots
- A length of rope
- A flashlight
- Several sheets of paper
- Two pencils
- A stainless steel water bottle
- His inhaler
History
Your First Walker Encounter: Though his parents were both killed by walkers, the first time Ciel ever saw one was on his own. Wandering through the forest, starving and alone, he was ambushed by a group of two walkers. They were both relatively weak and old, so he was able to pick them off with his rifle after climbing up a tree to escape being bitten or scratched by the undead fiends. He had known about their presence before he ever saw one, so he wasn’t as frightened as he would have been otherwise, but the situation cemented in him the idea of just how much danger he was really in.
History Before Outbreak: Ciel was born the only son to a rich politician and his trophy wife. His parents adored him right from the start, and he led a pampered lifestyle. Anything he needed or wanted was provided as soon as he but asked. Being a somewhat weak and sickly little boy, his medical needs were painstakingly attended to by the best doctors available. There was only one problem he saw in his life, and that was that he had little to no contact with the world outside his home. He never made a single friend, he never had the valuable solo experiences that other children had, and most of all he was never exposed to foreign pathogens and as such his asthma and allergies only worsened instead of improving.
By the time he was six years old, he desperately hungered for a life of adventure. He never even went to school with other children; his parents homeschooled him and provided tutors at home. The good thing about this is that his individualized education meant that he could work at his own pace, and he quickly excelled at all the work his tutors could give him. His parents, who had both been good students themselves, were ever so proud to see their son grow to be so scholastically advanced. A specialty of Ciel's was always drawing, and he loved making maps of his parent's estate, the only world he knew.
Then the walkers came. His parents initially barricaded themselves in their mansion, but one of Ciel’s doctors became a walker, somehow broke into the heavily guarded estate, and killed them both in their beds. Ciel heard scratching and tearing sounds coming from his parent’s room, and fearing the worst he escaped through his bedroom window, taking only his father’s rifle.
History Since Outbreak: After the deaths of his parents, Ciel escaped to the woods and started to journey his way across the landscape, trying to get as far away from the outbreak as possible. It quickly settled in just how much he was unprepared for life on his own. He seemed to be allergic to almost everything, his asthma being terribly bad for the first few days. He had no idea how to find food or make shelter, eating only the raw animals he shot and getting very sick from them. He surely would have died if he hadn't found his first companion on his fifth day alone.
Charles Greywater was a stocky, bearded man, fond of flannel shirts and armed with a crossbow. He found little Ciel starving and ill in the woods, and nursed the boy back to health, taking him in as a sort of apprentice. He taught Ciel how to properly use the rifle he had, and even taught him a few crossbow tricks. Ciel learned to make a fire with flint, and how to gut and cook animals so he wouldn't have to subsist off of raw meat like he had been. It was with Charles that Ciel committed his first murder. They came across a woman on their travels, one who was trying to raid their shelter. Charles woke Ciel, handed him his rifle and told the boy to shoot. Ciel shot the woman dead, and the two ate her corpse and used her clothes and supplies. Ciel was of course more than slightly troubled by this at first, but quickly became accustomed to his own immorality.
Then one sunny July afternoon, the two of them were attacked by a lone walker. This one was stronger than the two Ciel had encountered before, and killed Charles while he tried to protect Ciel. Ciel was forced to shoot them both, but he missed the walker and made a narrow escape by jumping into a river and swimming downstream away from the monster, who could not maneuver itself so easily in water. Ciel was once again on his own, but this time a bit more prepared.
One week passed, then two. Today is Ciel's fifteenth day of being alone. He hasn't had much luck in finding food and is slowly fading again. He's learned by now that he doesn't do well solo, and has learned it the hard way. He's narrowly survived a few more walker attacks, which seem to be getting more and more frequent as if he were approaching some sort of colony of the creatures, like an abandoned town or something. If he doesn't find help soon, his little adventure may soon come to an untimely end.
Extras
Character Quote: The ends justify the means
Theme Song: Confessio (Puella Magi Madoka Magica OST)
How Many Walkers Have You Killed: 3
How Many People Have You Killed: 1
Why: The human, he killed for food. The walkers he killed because they would have killed him otherwise.
Anything Else: Here
*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy.
OP
Tobit Ishmael Broflovski
“I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying.” - Oscar Wilde
Great Things Come in Small Packages. Apparently so do Awkward Things.
|| NAME ||
Tobit Ishmael Broflovski. Just call me Toby, okay? Nobody needs to hear that my middle name is Ishmael.
|| GENDER||
I'm a guy. I know I sound like a little girl, but I'm a guy.
|| AGE ||
15, believe it or not.
|| GRADE ||
Tenth.
|| SEXUALITY ||
I'm gay, big surprise.
|| RELATIONSHIP STATUS ||
Single, forever and always.
|| APPEARANCE ||
Well, first and foremost I look like a nine year old kid. There's a reason for this, and that reason is hypopituitarism, so don't blame my parents for giving me shit for genes.
I have a baby face, which just makes the whole problem even worse. Big brown 'Bambi eyes', cute little button nose, the whole spiel. My hair is a boring shade of sandy brown and too long, but I look like shit with short hair so I keep it that way.
I'm on the cusp of being slightly overweight, which just adds to the equation of madness which is my childish appearance.
I mostly dress in drab and slightly dirty clothes. Whatever my parents can salvage from the thrift store, I guess. Sometimes I even end up wearing hand-me-downs from my dead sister. My shoes are so worn out the soles have taped-up holes in them and I've replaced the laces at least eight times.
One other thing you'll notice about me is that I walk with a bit of a limp on my left side. That's because I broke my left leg in two places when I was eight and never got it fixed properly. Don't mention it or I'll fight you, I swear to God.
“In a nutshell, I am not unaware of my failings. Neither am I a stranger to irony.”
|| Curt, quiet, sensitive, touchy, hotheaded||
|| PERSONALITY ||
Most people say I kind of have a chip on my shoulder. Mention my height, my voice, my limp, or just about anything else and I'll.... well, I won't fight you. I'm too tiny to fight people. I'll probably just flip you off and swear at you in Yiddish until you go away.
I mostly just try to stay out of people's way, though. Nobody really wants to be friends with me, so I generally assume anyone who approaches me is just here to pick on me like everyone else does. If they prove me wrong, well... they're in for a bit of a letdown because I'm not very charming. At my best, I'm quiet and socially awkward, and at my worst I'm a touchy little bitch. So... just leave me alone, okay? I promise I won't bother you.
|| QUIRKS ||
* I bite my nails and knuckles when nervous
* I tie my shoes with triple knots
* I pace when thinking
* I have pretty bad asthma and I'm allergic to dogs and shellfish.
|| HOBBIES ||
* drawing
* reading
* soccer
* hiking
|| LIKES & DISLIKES ||
+The dark
+Quiet spaces
+Classical music
+Cats
+Chocolate
+Sweaters
-Loud noises
-Bright lights
-His height and general appearance
-Loud, annoying people
-Most music
-Pain
-Dogs
As Far as Anyone Else Knows, We're a Perfectly Normal Family.
|| FAMILY MEMBERS ||
img hostingFinally, here's my aunt April. She's a deadbeat drunk and that's all you need to know. Trust me.
|| HOUSE DESCRIPTION||
My family lives in an apartment complex in a run-down, shady neighborhood. The address is 41 Chevalle Street. It's a brick building, with several broken windows and leaky plumbing. We live in apartment number 5.
|| CAR DESCRIPTION ||
My dad's car broke down a long time ago. I walk to school.
"I'm not small, it's the world that's too big!"
|| BIOGRAPHY ||
I was born one snowy January evening 15 years ago. My parents were poor and currently supporting my mother's piss-drunk sister, so my birth came at kind of a bad time. The family already had a two year old girl in tow, and tons of debt piling up. I was born with a couple of different medical problems, most of them having to do with asthma and allergies. Nothing is harder on a dirt poor family than a kid with medical issues. I can only be glad my parents didn't dump me in the orphanage on the spot.
The early years were uneventful, at best. My mother never really liked me much, but my father and I got along like peas in a pod. We did just about everything together, and shared a lot of interests. Even though we were always dirt poor, there was tons of stuff to do. When I wasn't at Hebrew school or regular elementary school, I'd play soccer with my dad or go hiking. We'd always get into a lot of trouble, but we'd have lots of fun. Except for that one time when I was eight and I broke my left leg in two places. My parents couldn't afford to pay to have it fixed up at the hospital, so it didn't really heal properly and now I walk with a bit of a limp.
My sister Rachel was more of a shy, inside person, so she wasn't a huge influence on my childhood in the way my father was. She had her friends, and for a while I had mine. We never fought, but we weren't close.
And then there was my aunt April. Oy vey, was she ever a bitch. She'd always be drunk and hitting me around and the only one who ever stood up for me is my dad. But that's not that important. I never called CPS on her or anything, mostly cause my mom wouldn't let me tell anyone about the abuse. She felt bad for her sister and wanted to keep her safe in our house, even if it meant me getting beat up and yelled at.
When I was about ten, My doctor noticed that I had suddenly stopped growing. I never hit any of my growth spurts or showed any signs of developing any further. Later this was diagnosed as hypoputuitarism, a hormone disorder that prevents puberty and essentially traps someone in the body of a child for the rest of their life. This, of course, fucking sucks. But there's more! It also happens to make one rather susceptible to disease and most with the condition die young. Not great news for an already financially struggling family. This only made my mother even more distant from me, and gave my bitch aunt -who still lives with us, incidentally- another reason to get on my case. I mean, really, this woman is a nightmare. One time she hit me over the head with a glass bottle and gave me a concussion, and that definitely wasn't the first time she struck me. She never hit my older sister, though. My older sister wasn't an in-your-face hothead like I am, so she and my aunt very nearly got along. I wish I could say the same for me. I'd give anything not to have to be constantly fighting with that old hag.
Anyhow, over the years I stayed the exact same height as my peers grew, as if I was in some sort of time anomaly. My teachers started asking me if I was in the right classroom, assuming I was several grades below where I actually was. By the time I got to freshman high school, I'd been called "sweetie" and "honey" by teachers more times than I could count, and my classmates picked on me endlessly. School is a living hell if you're anything other than perfectly normal, let me tell you.
Then the accident happened. Last month, my sister was killed in a motorbike crash while with her boyfriend, who was also killed in the collision. Our parents were understandably devastated, but I personally only felt rather numb to the whole event. It's as if it never really occurred to me until later what it actually meant to lose a family member. I still have doubts about whether or not I was good enough to her while she was alive, because we never had much of a bond.
After the accident, My family moved out of Colorado all the way to Texas. Right into the middle of the fucking 'Bible Belt'. If it wasn't inherently obvious to you, we're Jewish. And I'm gay. So this wasn't exactly the best move we ever made, from my point of view. Even though this is his second year of high school, this is my first year at this school. Mostly I'm just trying to pass the year and stay out of everyone's way.
|| THEME SONG ||
Teenagers - My Chemical Romance
"The boys and girls in the clique
The awful names that they stick
You're never gonna fit in much, kid"
OP
Clovis Sackville
Character Summary
Name: Clovis Sackville.
Aliases: He gets called a lot of things, but has no one well-known nickname. He introduces himself to people as Clovis and usually expects to be addressed as such.
Age: In halfling years, he is sixteen. (About ten in human years)
Race/Ethnicty: Clovis is a Lightfoot Halfling. Halflings generally refer to themselves as hobbits.
Place of Origin: Twig Town, near Oldoak in Hannia
Gender: Male
Class/Job: Thief
Stats
Strength: 15
Dexterity: 20
Constitution: 6
Intelligence: 18
Wisdom: 9
Charisma: 13
Physical Attributes
Height: 3 feet and an inch
Weight: 22 pounds
Build: Small, even for a halfling, and very skinny, with long slender limbs and a generally rather frail appearance.
Eyes: Hazel
Hair: Brown
Skin Tone: Pale and lightly freckled
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: A couple assorted scars and birthmarks, but nothing particularly striking.
Day To Day Attire: A green tunic with a white shirt underneath and light brown trousers that come to a bit below his knees. He wears a a leather belt at his waist, attached to which is a small dagger and coinpurse. Like most halflings, he never wears shoes or boots of any kind, finding the coarse hair on his feet sufficient to keep them from freezing off.
Strengths:
- Dexterous
- Stealthy
- Strong for his age and size
Weaknesses:
- Prone to disease
- Argumentative
- Somewhat lacking in the common sense department
Psychological Attributes
Intelligent * Egotistical * Hotheaded * Cocky
Sexuality: Clovis isn't terribly interested in romance, but when he is, he's mostly attracted to other males.
Relationship Status: Single, though not a virgin.
Personality: Clovis is an adventurous soul, though some see him as a cocky and reckless boy. His friends around the Guild know him as being headstrong and a bit argumentative and hotheaded, but he does have a kind and nurturing streak and has been seen to actively help out the younger street rats around Twig Town.
Clovis is very good at writing and languages. When he was young, he often rejected opportunities to play with the other children in favor of perusing through his father's old collection of books. As he got older, this fascination with literature turned into a love of linguistics. Those who don't know his past often wonder what a boy like him is doing out with the Thieves' Guild when he could be pursuing becoming a scholar of sorts.
While generally rather intelligent and 'book smart', Clovis has a bit of an inflated idea of his own maturity. His ego can often get in the way when interacting with others, enforcing their perception of him as an ostentatious brat.
Clovis is a general optimist and loves a good joke or riddle. Halflings have a reputation as affable creatures, and for the most part Clovis is no different. When not being hot-tempered or pompous, he can be quite a good friend to those who gain his trust and affection.
Living out in the streets a couple years has instilled in him a bit of distrust for other people. While not paranoid, he is always prepared for even his closest friends to turn on him.
Habits:
- Bites his hands, nails and knuckles when nervous. He actually has a few scars from doing this.
- Always signs his papers in backwards lettering
Hobbies: Reading, writing, and occasionally he'll draw or doodle.
Fears:
- Spiders, especially large ones
- Water - he can't swim and large bodies of water like oceans terrify him.
- Being restrained or otherwise unable to move
Likes:
- Food, especially cheese
- Good books
- Music and theatre
- Adventure
- Cats, dogs, and other domestic animals
- Stealing
Dislikes:
- Losing
- Skipping meals or seeing food go to waste
- Being bored
- Being looked down upon or belittled
- Boring people
- The law
Skills
- Skill: Small size (good for sneaking, hiding, dodging, all sorts of things)
- Skill: Archery (Short bows only)
- Skill: Climbing
- Skill: Multilingual (Can speak Elvish on top of his native Halfling tongue and whatever the equivalent of 'common' is)
- Skill: Excellent hearing
- Skill: Performance (Can sing. Most halflings are rather musically inclined)
Magic
Clovis doesn't use magic. He finds it too taxing on the brain.
Possessions
Possessions Generally On Person:
- Item: Green tunic, made of some sort of rough, light fabric
- Item: White long-sleeved shirt, made of smoother fabric. Somewhat dirt and grass stained.
- Item: Brown trousers, about knee-length. Made of similar material to the tunic
- Item: Leather belt
- Item: Dark red coinpurse with a drawstring, attached to the belt.
- Item: A selection of lockpicks, kept in the pockets of his trousers.
Weapons:
- Item: Short bow and quiver of 24 arrows
- Item: Dagger
Armor:
- Leather gauntlets
Animals: None.
Pack Contents:
- Item: A week's worth of rations
- Item: A small canteen full of enough water to last him four days
- Item: A long length of rope, about 30-50 feet
- Item: A lantern
- Item: A few rolls of paper and a piece of charcoal to write or draw with
- Item: Thieves' tools. Lockpicks, a bottle of grease, a wrench, etc.
Magical Items:
- Item: Description
- Item: Description
Potions:
- Item: Small healing potion (5)
Creation Materials: Anything used to brew potions or for alchemy
- Item: Description
- Item: Description
- Item: Description
- Item: Description
- Item: Description
- Item: Description
History
Parents: His mother, Eliza Sackville, is deceased. She died giving birth to his younger sister. Clovis was only 2 Halfling years old at the time and doesn't have many memories of her. His father, Ulric Sackville, always had a good relationship with all his children. When he died of disease when Clovis was 10 Halfling years, he and his siblings were grieved beyond imagination.
Siblings: All in all, Clovis originally had four older brothers and a younger sister. The sister and his second-oldest brother are dead of the same illness that took his father. Their names are Talliver, Flynn (deceased), Conric, Quince and Lena (deceased). Quince and Clovis fought a lot as children, but he had a pretty good relationship with his other four siblings. Talliver went off to sea and is now a successful pirate captain, Flynn was a blacksmith's apprentice before his death, Conric and Quince own a tailor shop together, and Lena had no profession before her death as she died at only 8 Halfling years old.
Childhood: Clovis was born one Winter afternoon. He was a bit premature, but was able to survive infancy with a little help from the local healers. His family already consisted of four little boys. At the time of his birth, Talliver was 6 hobbit years old, Flynn was 4, and the twins Conric and Quince were 2. The first year or so of Clovis's life was not very eventful, just a usually Halfling baby life of crawling around and doing baby things. Then, about a Halfling year and a half later, his mother was expecting again. The pregnancy was normal, but there were severe complications during the birth of the baby girl and his mother ended up dying of infection the next day. Clovis, being only two years old at the time, didn't have many collected memories of his mother. Sometimes, if he thinks about it deeply enough, he can sort of remember the sound of her voice a little bit, but there was never a proper portrait painted of her. His father's quick sketches are the only hint he has as to what she might have looked like.
The years went by and Clovis grew up into a mischievous and funloving boy who also happened to have a passion for reading. While he enjoyed playing outside with his siblings, the best moments of his childhood were spent curled up in his father's lap with an old book of mythical tales.
Then, when he hit the age of ten, a plague swept through Twig town. They all got sick, and only Talliver truly recovered. His father, sister and second oldest brother died, and Clovis and the twins were left sickly and weak and missing their father.
Left as orphans, Talliver went out to sea as a cabin boy on a voyage, never to return. Word is he became a pirate captain and is doing very well indeed. The younger three were sent to an orphanage outside of Twig Town, where Conric and Quince decided to stay until they were old enough to get their professions. Clovis, however, craved adventure and decided to run away.
He lived on the streets for a year, teaching himself how to steal and pick locks and pockets before the Thieves' Guild took him in.
Adulthood: Technically speaking, Clovis is not quite yet an adult.
Special Moments: He has fond memories of perusing his father's library.
Current Events: Still working with the Thieve's Guild but mostly doing his own tasks, Clovis is rather enjoying the life he leads. But he's running low on money, and hearing the tales of what his brother's been up to he's been eager to try mercenary work. So he's off to do some jobs for the vigilants, thinking 'how hard could it be to kill a few monsters'?
Extras
Character Quote: "Take what you can - Give nothing back!"
Theme Song: Up is Down - Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End soundtrack
Aura Color: A sharp, alert shade of blue
Scent: Earthy, like dead autumn leaves.
Anything Else:
OP
Name:
Olivier Julien Dutoit Fauchelevent
Age:
10
Appearance:
By all accounts, Olivier is a pretty young thing (and boy does he know it). His skin is ghostly pale, often accentuated with a blush on his rounded cheeks. His delicate features include a narrow, upturned nose and small mouth full of straight white teeth (with a small gap between the two upper centrals). His wide blue eyes complete the look. His hair is a very light platinum blonde, almost white in color, and falls in shaggy layers around his face, often partially covering his left eye. He's light and very thin for his age, but seems to be about average height.
Though he looks like he just walked out of a Disney movie, this is offset by having a pretty horrible taste in clothing. He dresses like a disheveled private school student, his shirts and vests never buttoned up correctly and his ties never tied properly. On particularly bad days, sometimes he'll mistakenly put on mismatched shoes. He sticks out like a sore thumb against casually clad peers, to say the least.
He's usually never seen without an analog watch. He can't stand the digital sorts.
Personality:
Despite being highly intelligent for his age, Olivier is a prejudiced, judgmental and somewhat delusional boy. He quickly becomes obsessed with small flaws, and seems to feel intense hatred for people who have done him very little wrong. Though his appearance would indicate that he is absentminded, quite the opposite is true. He is highly detail oriented and often becomes fixated on trivial things rather than taking the bigger picture into account.
He has quite the ego, but it's all very fragile. The slightest insult can send him reeling with self doubt, and further enforces his need to pick on others. He's not exactly the classic narcissist. It's a bit more complicated than that.
In truth, he actually can learn to care about people. It takes him a long time to learn to trust others, and he's hypersensitive for certain, but he's not completely apathetic. He is very afraid of being hurt or abandoned by other people, and so he's very quick to judge them negatively and distance himself from them.
Bio:
As one might expect, Olivier was born in France. The great city of Paris itself, to be exact. His parents had a lot of money, so he got just about anything a kid could have wanted. Though his parents were both a bit distant, Olivier's father was always kind to his son, trying to keep their relationship as strong as it could be given the circumstances. His father, being a well-known businessman, wasn't around much for his son, and his mother had a job of her own as a reporter. As such, Olivier spent much of his early life being babysat by strangers. This lack of parental supervision was probably what lead to him climbing up onto the roof of their 3-story house at midnight and subsequently falling part of the way down, shattering his left tibia (the bone in the lower leg). Because of some complications and the severity of the break, this resulted in a permanent injury.
A few years later, everything seemed to be normal. That is, until Olivier's parents accepted a business offer that required them to move to the predominantly English-speaking United States of America. Olivier was only 8 years old at the time, and didn't really understand the consequences until after the fact. Needless to say, it was very difficult for him to adjust to the new environment. Truth be told, he still has a lot of adjusting to do.
He picked up English surprisingly quickly, being the smart kid he is. However, he speaks with a very prominent accent which caused him a lot of grief back when kids had a school to attend.
Over the next year, he'd started getting bullied pretty severely, but he fought back by becoming a bit of a bully himself; convincing himself that he was superior to his classmates and that was why they didn't like him. He started becoming very focused on the flaws of others, desperately trying to improve his own self esteem.
His parents divorced a few months before the outbreak. His father moved back to France, while his mother took full custody of Olivier and stayed in the U.S. Needless to say, this was devastating for Olivier. He would have much preferred to return to Paris with his father, and go back to a place where he felt comfortable. However, the court ruled that he should belong to his mother and that was that. This further deepened his insecurity, sending him even further down the spiral towards complete instability. By this point, he desperately needed care. Someone who understood him. His mother had started to drink at this point, and had received a large promotion in her job that caused her to be out of the house even more. By the time she came home late in the evening, she was too intoxicated to care about her child.
Then the outbreak hit. Olivier only barely escaped his mother. Having a damaged leg, he was only able to survive by stabbing her with a kitchen knife until she retreated. He doesn't really know if she's alive or dead, but he doesn't care that much either way. At the time of the attack, he thought that it was just his mother trying to kill him for personal reasons. Soon he found out the truth, that it was every adult versus every child. Despite this making absolutely zero logical sense, Olivier was forced to roll with it, and so far has managed to not die at least.
Likes:
. Cats
.Tea
.Watching outdated horror films
.Exploring (that is, as much as he can, considering his injury)
.Board Games
.Having friends (though he's not good at making them)
.Logic Puzzles
.Reading
Dislikes:
. Digital clocks
.Music (except quiet classical pieces)
.Eating (He's very picky)
.Being asked about his leg
.People who he finds stupid, ugly, annoying or otherwise unlikeable
.Heights
.Spiders
. Speaking English
. Boredom
Skills:
. Piano
.Bilingual (French and English)
.Writing
.Math (at a fairly novice level, but he still understands it fairly well)
Extra:
Olivier's left leg never healed properly after it was broken. Because of the way the bone shattered, the nerves and muscle tissue in his calf were permanently damaged. As such, he has trouble walking without a crutch and experiences chronic pain.
Olivier Julien Dutoit Fauchelevent
Age:
10
Appearance:
By all accounts, Olivier is a pretty young thing (and boy does he know it). His skin is ghostly pale, often accentuated with a blush on his rounded cheeks. His delicate features include a narrow, upturned nose and small mouth full of straight white teeth (with a small gap between the two upper centrals). His wide blue eyes complete the look. His hair is a very light platinum blonde, almost white in color, and falls in shaggy layers around his face, often partially covering his left eye. He's light and very thin for his age, but seems to be about average height.
Though he looks like he just walked out of a Disney movie, this is offset by having a pretty horrible taste in clothing. He dresses like a disheveled private school student, his shirts and vests never buttoned up correctly and his ties never tied properly. On particularly bad days, sometimes he'll mistakenly put on mismatched shoes. He sticks out like a sore thumb against casually clad peers, to say the least.
He's usually never seen without an analog watch. He can't stand the digital sorts.
Personality:
Despite being highly intelligent for his age, Olivier is a prejudiced, judgmental and somewhat delusional boy. He quickly becomes obsessed with small flaws, and seems to feel intense hatred for people who have done him very little wrong. Though his appearance would indicate that he is absentminded, quite the opposite is true. He is highly detail oriented and often becomes fixated on trivial things rather than taking the bigger picture into account.
He has quite the ego, but it's all very fragile. The slightest insult can send him reeling with self doubt, and further enforces his need to pick on others. He's not exactly the classic narcissist. It's a bit more complicated than that.
In truth, he actually can learn to care about people. It takes him a long time to learn to trust others, and he's hypersensitive for certain, but he's not completely apathetic. He is very afraid of being hurt or abandoned by other people, and so he's very quick to judge them negatively and distance himself from them.
Bio:
As one might expect, Olivier was born in France. The great city of Paris itself, to be exact. His parents had a lot of money, so he got just about anything a kid could have wanted. Though his parents were both a bit distant, Olivier's father was always kind to his son, trying to keep their relationship as strong as it could be given the circumstances. His father, being a well-known businessman, wasn't around much for his son, and his mother had a job of her own as a reporter. As such, Olivier spent much of his early life being babysat by strangers. This lack of parental supervision was probably what lead to him climbing up onto the roof of their 3-story house at midnight and subsequently falling part of the way down, shattering his left tibia (the bone in the lower leg). Because of some complications and the severity of the break, this resulted in a permanent injury.
A few years later, everything seemed to be normal. That is, until Olivier's parents accepted a business offer that required them to move to the predominantly English-speaking United States of America. Olivier was only 8 years old at the time, and didn't really understand the consequences until after the fact. Needless to say, it was very difficult for him to adjust to the new environment. Truth be told, he still has a lot of adjusting to do.
He picked up English surprisingly quickly, being the smart kid he is. However, he speaks with a very prominent accent which caused him a lot of grief back when kids had a school to attend.
Over the next year, he'd started getting bullied pretty severely, but he fought back by becoming a bit of a bully himself; convincing himself that he was superior to his classmates and that was why they didn't like him. He started becoming very focused on the flaws of others, desperately trying to improve his own self esteem.
His parents divorced a few months before the outbreak. His father moved back to France, while his mother took full custody of Olivier and stayed in the U.S. Needless to say, this was devastating for Olivier. He would have much preferred to return to Paris with his father, and go back to a place where he felt comfortable. However, the court ruled that he should belong to his mother and that was that. This further deepened his insecurity, sending him even further down the spiral towards complete instability. By this point, he desperately needed care. Someone who understood him. His mother had started to drink at this point, and had received a large promotion in her job that caused her to be out of the house even more. By the time she came home late in the evening, she was too intoxicated to care about her child.
Then the outbreak hit. Olivier only barely escaped his mother. Having a damaged leg, he was only able to survive by stabbing her with a kitchen knife until she retreated. He doesn't really know if she's alive or dead, but he doesn't care that much either way. At the time of the attack, he thought that it was just his mother trying to kill him for personal reasons. Soon he found out the truth, that it was every adult versus every child. Despite this making absolutely zero logical sense, Olivier was forced to roll with it, and so far has managed to not die at least.
Likes:
. Cats
.Tea
.Watching outdated horror films
.Exploring (that is, as much as he can, considering his injury)
.Board Games
.Having friends (though he's not good at making them)
.Logic Puzzles
.Reading
Dislikes:
. Digital clocks
.Music (except quiet classical pieces)
.Eating (He's very picky)
.Being asked about his leg
.People who he finds stupid, ugly, annoying or otherwise unlikeable
.Heights
.Spiders
. Speaking English
. Boredom
Skills:
. Piano
.Bilingual (French and English)
.Writing
.Math (at a fairly novice level, but he still understands it fairly well)
Extra:
Olivier's left leg never healed properly after it was broken. Because of the way the bone shattered, the nerves and muscle tissue in his calf were permanently damaged. As such, he has trouble walking without a crutch and experiences chronic pain.
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