[font=Arial, sans-serif] Here are just a few of my characters, I may be adding more as time goes by..
__________________________________________
Full Name: Alassea Helyanwe
Father: Erestor
Mother: ?
Siblings: One brother, Valandil.
Race: Half Elf, her father was a Dark Sorcerer.
Age: 24 (appears younger)
History: Alassea was born in Lothlorien to an Elven Mistriss of some sort. She died during childbirth, and her father refused to speak about her at all, pretending as if she had no mother to begin with. That was just his style, too. He wasn't exactly the caring and compassionate kind of father. He was infatuated with the Dark Lands and Mordor, many questioned his alliegance, others already knew it was to Sauron.
It was not natural for a wizard to have children. When Alassea turned four, another mysterious Elf gave birth to her brother, Valandil. She too, died during labor.
Erestor wanted a son, a powerful son. One that he could teach and show how to use power, yet still be able to manipulate to his own liking in the end. Alassea proved stronger and more powerful than he had expected, if it had not been so, he would have disposed of her. He had hoped that Valandil, though younger and second born, would become greater. It did not turn out to his wishes.
Valandil was in love with nature, and dispised killing at all costs. Alassea loved her brother dearly. Erestor saw this, and used it to his advantage. He threatened to kill Valandil, if Alassea had not done what he wanted her to do. Many times he used this strategy, most of the time it worked.
What Erestor did not know, was that he passed on a trait to Alassea he didn't intend. A simple power created when the blood of a wizard and an Elf mixed. ..Alassea was a shape-shifter. She could easily transform into an animal at will. Her animal was a falcon. She was smart enough not to tell anyone, especially her father.
Appearance: Her eyes bore the shade of a dark brown. Her silky, ebony hair reached down to the small of her back. Her skin was fair tone, almost pale, but healthy looking. She stood at a good elven stature of 5'7".
Alassea's usual attire consisted of a black pants, black peasant blouse and a black leather belt. On her hands she wore protective leather gauntlets. Several daggers concealed in various places, she relied on her natural assets when it came to fighting.
______________________________________
First Name: Eilwynn
Last Name: Unknown
Race: Half-human, half-something else.
Age: Appears to be in her early twenties.
Parentage: Unknown
Siblings: None--That we know of..
Spouse: One, but he died long ago, and was never heard of again. She never mentions his name.
Children: Had one miscarriage just before her lover's death.
History: Just bits and pieces.. Eilwynn can't remember anything past her fifteenth year of life. ( Mind you, that's a rather large chunk of life missing..) She had always been independant, and self-assured, completely aware of what was around her--Or so she'd like to think. Eilwynn had always questioned authority, perhaps not rudely, but in her own little sly way. Despite her rogue-ish way of life, constantly moving from place to place, and sometimes stealing, she remained astonishingly polite and kind. However, the world is never enough in her eyes. She was self-taught with the sword, and fairly good; but archery remained her greatest asset.
She made a sort of living off of doing 'Dirty-Work.' Small things, such as getting rid of beasts and of the like that would plague villages and things. Being without family made her the perfect one to do it.
Women would scowel behind her back, some would be even bold enough to do it in her face.. insisting that she was some form of witch or devil. After all, what sort of female lived and wandered alone, killing beasts, and husband-less at that!
She ignored rumors and taunts such as these, and continued doing what she did best.
Appearance: Her eyes bore the shade of a deep amber on the outside, but closer towards the iris they were a swirling of green-ish gold-- It was her eyes that proved to the scowling women that their conclusion was true. She had long dark hair that seemed to curl near the bottom, and around her face, somewhat like ringlets, only more loose. Her skin was soft, yet pale, for she was always under-nourished, and somewhat skinny, despite her toned build. She stood at 5"6, clad in shades of dark brown, and sometimes black, weilding two machete-like swords at her back, along with several hidden daggers.
______________________________________
Name: Originally Isabell Cortez, but when she was twenty-four she bought the title of Isabell de Rousseau.
Parents: N/A, she was adopted at the age of thirteen, her adoptive parents were Cathryn and Louis Cortez.
Siblings: (Adoptive) Emma, 3, Josephine, 12, Katrine, 7, and her twin brothers, Jack and Victor, 9.
Age: Appears to be around 19, though she dates back into the early fifteenth century.
Race: Vampire
History: Isabell was born to a peasant woman in a small orphanage of Eastern Europe, who died the following night of giving birth. From there Isabell was raised. For twelve cold and cruel years she lived humbly within the damp walls of the orphanage with the other misfortunate children.
For what reason, Isabell was still unsure of, but a couple who seemed to have a cart-load of children, and one on the way, decided to adopt Isabell. Why they took her, who was the most quiet, and stood near the back, was a mystery.
In any case, she was saved. The mother who was pregnant, gave birth to a still-born, but did not grieve, because of their new child. She lived for six happy years with the Cortez family, in the outskirts of France, in a small cottage.
On the night of Isabell's nineteenth birthday, she awoke to blood-curdling screams. She had been strapped to an old oak, forty or so yards from the cottage with a thick rope, and forced to watch her family burn alive. The had been trapped inside their own home, confined within their own fiery hell.
Her father, to avoid thwarting the culprit's plan, had been hanged on the same oak that she was tied to. She could even feel his feet lightly brushing against her shoulder as he swayed. Her sisters tried frantically to open the windows but they were boarded shut. Her mother, who was sick with the flu, no doubt burned in her bed. Her brothers managed to kick down the front door, but were instantly shot down with arrows.
The archer stood next to her, on the other side of her hanging father, clad in a grey cloak. She could scarcely see his eyes from the glow of the fire, but she could sence that he was smiling behind his masked visage. That was all she could remember of that night. He had been the vampire who made her. He had been the vampire who destroyed the only family she had ever known.
Appearance: She is very beautiful, with long blonde curly hair, and wintry blue optics.
___________________________________________
Name: Ðante
Age: Unknown
Parents: Unknown
Siblings: Same
Race: Some sort of demon...man-eating.. human-looking thing. x_x; I don't know what he is.
History: Guess what. THEREISNONE. <Le gasp.> My first character with no history whatsoever. Oh well, I'll leave you with your imagination on where he came from. <Wink.>
Personality: Ah, yes. To make up for lack of personal background, I shall try and describe his twisted mind for you. Ðante is way too arrogant for his own good, perhaps even self-absorbed. He get's a kick out of seeing the reaction from people when he thinks he's struck a cord. The antagonist. Such a bloody nuissance, but you can't help but like him. Plus, he's grown quite fond of meat, you could say he's an obsessed carnivor. In fact, he even likes human-flesh. Charming, eh?
Appearance: Ðante is huge. He stands at a bulking height of 6'7", weighing nearly three-hundred pounds--He isn't fat, mind you, that's just muscle mass. His skin is a light blue-ish green, and covered in strange, grey, celtic-like markings. They have their own cryptic meaning. His usuall attire consists of black leather pants and boots--( Much like these:
www.hottopic.com/hottopic/store/product ... C%3Eprd_id) Oh. And. He never wears a shirt. He is constantly shirtless. You'd see him trudging miserably through a blizzard before he put a shirt on. But, he's probably just showing off his buff-ness..vain little git.
Weapons: Twin scimitars strapped to his back--(Much like this:
www.rickterrysart.com/images/scimitar.gif) Er, yeah. I stole that from google. xD I'm so lame. I can't describe worth a nickle, so I have to steal images from sites. Anyhoo.. pray you never meet him!
_________________________________________
Name: Celeste
Age: Unknown
Race: Centaur
Gender: Female
Parents: Unknown
Appearance: Celeste is half woman, half Andalusian Mare. Her skin is very pale, a silvery cream color to be more exact. The texture of her skin is soft and smooth as alabaster stone; her eyes baring the shade of dark cinnamen brown, but because she inherits the trait of a horse, her black pupils are so large, the only part of the iris you see is a sliver of a ring around it. The only clothing she wears is a tight albino buckskin vest, her arms and half her mid-section remaining unclothed. Celeste's white hair reaches the very bottom of her torso, and being jet black from four inches of from the tips; her bangs reaching her upper cheek bones. Because a normal Andalusian horse is about 15.2 hands, she stands (on all fours) reaching 7'8". The hair on her horse counterpart is brilliantly white, and shaggy along her black hooves. Slung across her back is a medium brown buckskin quiver and a 48" bow she crafted herself, those being the only form of weaponry she carries.
Personality: ( I usually prefer not to write out a personality for each of my character's, I'd prefer you found out for yourself in the rp's what they're like. But because there is no history for this one, I will describe it. Just as I did so with the Dante character.)
Celeste is a calm and beautiful creature, as most horses are; however she carries a spirited and fiesty side once trifled with as well. She is wise, and caring, but remains mostly quiet and free-willed. Highly independant. Again..Not one to be trifled with.
__________________________________________
Name: (Formal) Prince Orien Judas Tavlin
Parents: (Formal) Father, King Judas Tavlin III. Mother, Queen Leanne ( Pronounced 'Leah-Nay') Tavlin.
Siblings: One younger brother (25), (Formal) Dimitri Judas Tavlin
Age: 28
Race: Human
History: Orien was born on December 16th, in the kingdom Aphetma. He had always possessed a charismatic charm, and was quick to learn. His brother however, held a more enigmatic personality. He had a younger sister, but she suffered from the rare blood disease hemophilia. She passed away in a cold January winter when she was but nine, Orien having been sixteen. Her death affected the royal family so much, her records where destroyed, and the only proof of her existance rested in a secret room that only the Queen had access to. Orien saw it only once as he walked by, the door of this room having been left carelessly ajar. In it, were her possessions, her toys, her clothes. It was a shrine for Leanne to weep in. Depression took her, and she did not speak or eat or sleep for days. Many times the Queen fell ill, and it was not until Orien was twenty that she began to live healthier, neverltheless...still affected.
One morning Judas took his sons ice-fishing on a private lake behind the palace. Orien was digging in a sack that they had brought for canteens, when suddenly Dimitri pushed his father over thin ice. Judas fell through, and was trapped below whilst Dimitri and Orien fought. There was no one else to witness this act, for they did not bring gaurds. Dimitri blamed Orien for the King's murder, and the Queen having been wrought with grief believed him. He was sent to a prison outside of Aphetma, where he stayed for eight years. It was by luck or chance that he escaped, and to this day wanders, planning his return.
Appearance: Tall, being 6'0". His hair is dark and long, reaching inches below his jaw, his eyes were a sea-gray color, and luminous despite his rugged exterior
_________________________________________[/font]
