This is my application. Want her to be some sort of Spymaster-esque character. Oh, and any instances of irony are 100% on purpose. Such as how she takes the name of Lowborn to mock the nobles, but is unknowingly a noble herself.

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Name: Elizabeth Lowborn

Age: 22

Physical Description: 

Often mistaken for young man or boy, Elizabeth has almost no womanly characteristics. No doubt a result of her early life. Her skin is pale and rugged, with small scars covering her hands, feet, elbows, and knees. Despite this, she has a face that most would define as 'delicately handsome'. With smooth eyebrows, full lips, and a smallish nose. Inquisitive brown eyes constantly search her surroundings. Having grown up on the streets, Elizabeth often wears rags and long, filthy cloaks to more easily go unnoticed amidst the dregs of the Capital. Her teeth are slightly yellowed, though mostly straight, and her long, platinum hair is so caked with mud and refuse that it appears totally brown. There are several knives on her body hidden from view. 

The only feminine thing about her is that she has a height of 5'4".

[img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a5/bf/aa/a5bfaa2d96b596c2ed536c3f9f002b0e.jpg[/img]

Personality:

Having always looked fairly masculine, Elizabeth learned at a very young age that being a man on the streets was far better than being a woman. So she styled herself as one. She walked like a man, talked like one, fought like one. In fact, there isn't a single living soul in the kingdom that knows of the name Elizabeth Lowborn. They only know of a forgettable lad by the name of Henry. Elizabeth is a rather sly character, always quick to twist her way out of an unfavorable position. She is a master of information, with her own network of beggars and merchants feeding her information about the comings and goings of other gangs and of the Highborn. Her snarky and challenging attitude to threats larger then her is the source of her mocking name of Lowborn.

Backstory:

Unknown to Elizabeth, she was not born amidst the stench and rot of the sewer roads. No, She is the daughter of two nobles, mages truly. Though they were not members of the Darkwatch. The girls mother and father are members of the synod, driven from their family's generational home of Azon by those fearmongering Darkwatch mages. Accused of treason and of consorting with remnant supporters of Daigon, Elizabeth parent's attempted to flee the capitol with their daughter. Alas, they were unsuccessful. Her mother, who carried Elizabeth in her arms, was struck down by Azon's barbed arrows. The Knights charged around the mewling child and dead mother, intent on capturing Elizabeth's fleeing father. A man who still thought his wife and daughter were right behind him. (I would like for him to reappear, but with the goal of making Azon crumble for taking his wife and daughter)

The child, still crying in her mother's cold arms, was found by a poor beggar woman. The woman, taking pity on the child raised Elizabeth as her own. With her, and the other petty thieves of the sewer streets, Elizabeth learned how to move unseen and unheard. How to pick any pocket and any lock. How to defend herself with naught but a nail, though she preferred to at least have a dagger. As she grew, Elizabeth realized that she couldn't stay in the sewer streets. They were merely too small. So she grew her territory, slowly, insidiously. By the time she was 20, Elizabeth had an informant in every room of every building in the capitol. In fact, she had even walked the very halls of the royal palace with no one the wiser. Except for maybe the prince, as they had quite literally ran into each other. But as no cry of alarm went up after that encounter, she counted it as a win.

Flaws/Strengths: 

Not 100% sure what these will be, though I have some ideas.
Since both her parents were proficient mages, I want her to have a natural talent with magic, but since she has had no training she doesn't really know how to use it. So far it just manifests naturally, making her quieter, forgettable to the casual onlooker, and giving her an almost eidetic memory.

However, I also want to make her an almost Loki-ish character. Where she definitely plays both sides for her own benefit, but is more in the prince's basket than his uncle.

Other: 

To be updated as we RP.

IC Sample:
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It had been almost a year since her impromptu visit to the palace. A year of pieces moving in the dark. Of innocuous words spoken in hushed whispers. Of forces readying and deals being struck. 

Elizabeth sat at her desk, dressed in a fledgling merchant's garb, snagged from one of her contact's wardrobe. In her hands was several pieces of paper. Copies of reports that were scattered across the desks of several nobles of the Capitol. She was looking for anything, a word, a name, even just a misplaced letter that would let her make heads and tails of what these documents meant. They were written in code and none of her trusted advisors could break them. Which made this the most worrying thing to cross her desk since she started this whole operation. She new they were tied to the current king and his Synod mage, but what their goal was, she couldn't tell.

Frustrated, she crushed the pages together and threw them across the room. Her fire place sputtered angrily as she glared at it in impotent anger. Damn the gods! She was supposed to be the single most informed individual in the capitol and yet she couldn't crack this code. The only thing she could possibly think was that the Synod mage somehow magicked the original words and that carried over to the copies. How? She hadn't the faintest clue, but that must be it, right? With a nod, mostly to herself, though slightly to the still-sputtering fireplace, Elizabeth got up from her desk. Careful to roll up her too long trousers and sleeves (damnable men with their damnable height) She made her way to the door only to have it open up in her face.

"By the god's! Fuck shit!" Tilting her head to let the torrents of blood flow freely from her nose, Elizabeth realized she had not spoken with her standard male voice. With a start she glanced at who had opened the door and sighed in relief. It was John, one of her middle-men. He was a child of the sewer streets, like all of her middle-men, and therefore was one of the privileged few that actually knew her to be a woman. "What is it John?" She said nasally as she held a piece of cloth to her nose.

John, in his lovably dense way, responded. "Got ya lettah 'ere, Ladee." No one really knew why John spoke like that. He wasn't stupid, just slow, and had always been like that. Maybe it was the fact that they were brought into the sewer streets on the same day that had endeared them to each other, but regardless John would always be her older brother for all things that mattered. He was also, strangely enough, the only one of her middle-men that referred to her as a Lady, though he always carried the 'e' sound at the end a bit to long. Elizabeth didn't know where it started, but someone had started a rumour about there being some princess of the undercity. She had been searching for that so-called princess since the rumour started years ago, but she was still unsuccessful in that regard. There was, after all, no way it could be referring to her as she always went by the name of Henry in public. But that didn't stop John from being convinced that his little sister was some kind of princess.

"Thank you John," She whispered as she opened the letter. It was marked with a stylized 'R' at the top, which meant it was extremely urgent. As in, probably happening now. There was only one line of text on it. 

The Prince is fleeing.

Elizabeth smiled.
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