Winter Member
- Last Seen: 9 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Blue Fox
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 793 (0.17 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Winter 12 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
In
GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Amelia smiled and gave a small wave of her own when she caught Oliver looking over at the Colonel, looking herself and catching his greeting. There seemed to be quite a few pilots around and all of whom would naturally be an owner of the GEAR's the passed in the hangar. As she looked around she kept a mental note of names and the GEAR's they piloted, wanting to keep a sharp memory for when it came to a real field scenario. She turned back to face Oliver, swiveling on her stool and crossing a leg over the other as she leaned onto the bar a little. He certainly was a confident one and seemed to pay no mind to the difference between their ranks. Not that she minded at all, it was actually refreshing to speak with a private who wasn't constantly tripping over their tongue calling you 'ma'am' or looking like a deer caught in headlights. She gave a warmer smile when he complimented her field work, "Thank you, but really I was more impressed you were able to tag on my frequency without me having realized sooner. Allot of pilots in your line of work are clumsy and leave easy to recognize signatures. I can tell you're very competent at what you do" she replied in kind before taking another small sip from her wine as he asked her a question. She placed the glass down gently before her eyes looked up to the ceiling as though she was thinking for a moment. "Well, originally I had planned on becoming a maths teacher. But the work just wasn't exciting enough and I wanted to travel. So I looked to the military and signed up for GEAR division" she replied. She cocked her head to the side, pulling her hair around her shoulder again before running her hands down it to straighten it a little. "What about you?" she asked curiously.
Well, even so. I wont be trying my luck with a Switchblade lol
Now imagine if it was Remnant Enclave power armour that you were up against :P
Hmm he's also experienced with knives. Maybe he could help Annabelle brush up on her own knife skills at some point :)
That's fine. I mostly just like the concept of her being requested to entertain whether she want's to or not at various places for various reasons. Anyway, definitely look forward to this.
Acting as a guard? where did I put that? I'm not supposed to be anything to do with a guard at all. I'll edit out the 9mm, it's not really important. Just might have been useful for latter.
Name: Annabelle Stephens.
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Stands at around five foot six inches.
Clothing:
Depending on the temperature or weather conditions she can be seen in plain tops such as the one in the image.Or long sleeved jumpers and jeans for colder weather. She also has a set of plain black clothing set aside for various reasons which consist of a black long sleeved turtleneck and black assault trousers.
Role in Society:
Entertainer at various theaters, Guard facilities and sometimes events.
Current Member of the Resistance: No.
Skills: Medicine, Stealth tactics and mostly anything to do with bladed weaponry.
Equipment:
1x Switchblade
2x Bottles of water
1x First Aid Kit
1x Flashlight
1x Strap bag
History:
Annabelle was born in the south near another city called Brighton. When the call came that sanctuary could be found in London, her family packed up and began to move further north using the old motorways which connected to what was known as the 'London Orbital' before the war. Her mother was a doctor and her father was a caravan merchant, both having met through a trade deal before latter falling in love. And it was because of this that Annabelle grew up with a firm understanding of medicine. When she came of age she assisted her mother, observing and even getting involved when it came to removing bullets from wounds or stitching up a deep cut caused by the dangerous wildlife. Annabelle intended to use these skills when they reached London, positive that they would all have better lives within the safety of the cities walls.
However once they arrived, the reality was far worse than they had expected. The rules, the conditions and the behaviors of those who were assigned to protect them were nothing more than an oppressive dictatorship. And so it seemed everything wasn't as the message had claimed. Those in power wasted no time putting them to work, sending both her and her mother to work at a clinic in Doggsville while her father was made to manage stock and trade at various places which were closely watched by the guards. She worked long hours, tending to the sick or injured with strict instruction that anyone who enters must be ready and fit to work within a certain time after entering. Sometimes they wouldn't be able to fix them in time, leading to harsh consequences for the person. It was truly saddening to see.
Sometimes during her shifts she would sing to her patients, or just sing to herself as a way of keeping her mind alive, she needed that at least. Her patients found comfort in her voice, especially some of the children. But with it came a consequence she hadn't expected. One evening a guard had entered with a note from one of the lords requesting that she sing for him as he'd heard of her voice of comfort and wished to hear it for himself. She wasn't given the option to refuse and was escorted to a location which was drastically different to the slums that the regular people were forced to live among. The place was guarded well and upon arrival she could see the lord which had sent for her as well as a few of what she guessed were friends.
She was incredibly nervous, having never performed to anyone before and worried of the consequences if he wasn't pleased with her voice. He certainly didn't help either, watching her with features of stone as she stood before him, guards at the entrances and exits, some of which watching from behind blacked out power helmet visors. She took a steadying breath before she sang her first song, closing her eyes to try to convince herself she was alone in the room. The song itself was a sad melody, emotions of suffering and hardship pushed from each breath of her lungs. When the song was finished she held her hands together in front of her, nervously pleading it'd been enough. A minute of silence followed as the lord watched her, his friends looking to each other questioningly before he began to clap as a widening smile ran across his features, his friends seeming relieved before clapping with him. Ever since that day, she was given a new role to perform at various places within the city. The lifestyle was a small improvement. But she was never able to see her parents again.
Triva:
Wears a ring given to her long ago by her mother. It has a silver band with words engraved into the inside of the ring. Only she knows what it says.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hope this is ok. I wanted to go for something a little creative with her history and development. Let me know if anything is wrong.
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Stands at around five foot six inches.
Clothing:
Depending on the temperature or weather conditions she can be seen in plain tops such as the one in the image.Or long sleeved jumpers and jeans for colder weather. She also has a set of plain black clothing set aside for various reasons which consist of a black long sleeved turtleneck and black assault trousers.
Role in Society:
Entertainer at various theaters, Guard facilities and sometimes events.
Current Member of the Resistance: No.
Skills: Medicine, Stealth tactics and mostly anything to do with bladed weaponry.
Equipment:
1x Switchblade
2x Bottles of water
1x First Aid Kit
1x Flashlight
1x Strap bag
History:
Annabelle was born in the south near another city called Brighton. When the call came that sanctuary could be found in London, her family packed up and began to move further north using the old motorways which connected to what was known as the 'London Orbital' before the war. Her mother was a doctor and her father was a caravan merchant, both having met through a trade deal before latter falling in love. And it was because of this that Annabelle grew up with a firm understanding of medicine. When she came of age she assisted her mother, observing and even getting involved when it came to removing bullets from wounds or stitching up a deep cut caused by the dangerous wildlife. Annabelle intended to use these skills when they reached London, positive that they would all have better lives within the safety of the cities walls.
However once they arrived, the reality was far worse than they had expected. The rules, the conditions and the behaviors of those who were assigned to protect them were nothing more than an oppressive dictatorship. And so it seemed everything wasn't as the message had claimed. Those in power wasted no time putting them to work, sending both her and her mother to work at a clinic in Doggsville while her father was made to manage stock and trade at various places which were closely watched by the guards. She worked long hours, tending to the sick or injured with strict instruction that anyone who enters must be ready and fit to work within a certain time after entering. Sometimes they wouldn't be able to fix them in time, leading to harsh consequences for the person. It was truly saddening to see.
Sometimes during her shifts she would sing to her patients, or just sing to herself as a way of keeping her mind alive, she needed that at least. Her patients found comfort in her voice, especially some of the children. But with it came a consequence she hadn't expected. One evening a guard had entered with a note from one of the lords requesting that she sing for him as he'd heard of her voice of comfort and wished to hear it for himself. She wasn't given the option to refuse and was escorted to a location which was drastically different to the slums that the regular people were forced to live among. The place was guarded well and upon arrival she could see the lord which had sent for her as well as a few of what she guessed were friends.
She was incredibly nervous, having never performed to anyone before and worried of the consequences if he wasn't pleased with her voice. He certainly didn't help either, watching her with features of stone as she stood before him, guards at the entrances and exits, some of which watching from behind blacked out power helmet visors. She took a steadying breath before she sang her first song, closing her eyes to try to convince herself she was alone in the room. The song itself was a sad melody, emotions of suffering and hardship pushed from each breath of her lungs. When the song was finished she held her hands together in front of her, nervously pleading it'd been enough. A minute of silence followed as the lord watched her, his friends looking to each other questioningly before he began to clap as a widening smile ran across his features, his friends seeming relieved before clapping with him. Ever since that day, she was given a new role to perform at various places within the city. The lifestyle was a small improvement. But she was never able to see her parents again.
Triva:
Wears a ring given to her long ago by her mother. It has a silver band with words engraved into the inside of the ring. Only she knows what it says.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hope this is ok. I wanted to go for something a little creative with her history and development. Let me know if anything is wrong.
Intensely interested. If you still have room I'll get working on a CS.
I sent it again! D:
Silverrrr you have a PM! :)
© 2007-2026