Post by mortmerrik on Sept 6, 2008 22:50:50 GMT
About you
Name: Tigglepot
Age: Ancient
How to contact you: Brainwaves
Role playing experience: Enough
Other Characters on this Site: Conor, Mari, Mason
About your Character
Name: Mortimer Merrik
Nickname: Mort
Age: 26
Country: England
Position: Peasant
Job: Farmer
Eye Color: Grey
Hair Color: Blond, darker facial hair and nearer nape of neck.
Height: 6'
General Appearance: Like most farmers Mort is sun-bronzed with the right muscles for heavy lifting. He stands a modest six foot in height and sports not-too-wide shoulders and a distinctly built chest. Its fairly obvious that Mort is a hard-working man as his physique and calloused hands can attest to. Mort could be a rather handsome man if it weren't for the perpetual scowl and uninviting body language.
His dark blond hair is usually in disarray and gets cut when it becomes a nuisance. His dark stubble often gets the same treatment, sometimes going uncut for the winter to add some extra warmth.
Mort can always be found in sturdy boots and trousers, and during the summer months, sans-shirt. His attire is usually straggly unless he gets round to his meagre attempts to patch them up. Only his boots seem to be in good repair. Perhaps annually washed, Mort usually looks (and smells) as dirty as the sow he keeps inside his house unless he spends some time out in a rain shower.
Likes:
+ [Piña Coladas and] Getting caught in the rain
+ Ale
+ Potatoes
+ Hard work
+ His dog
+ His property
Dislikes:
- Trespassers
- Children
- Sloth
- Taxes
- Thieves
- Everybody
- Especially Nicolette
Personality: Grumpy. adjective Synonyms: (colloq.) surly, cantankerous, crabby, cross, crotchety, disgruntled, grouchy, irritable, moody, sullen, surly, testy.
Mort is never happy. He's always complaining about something. Even if everything is good and dandy, he'll find something or someone to take to the dogs. He doesn't have much reason to do what he does, though the fact that he was the least favorite child in a brood of 10 probably never helped matters. He finds every opportunity to put someone down, and unsurprisingly doesn't make many friends. Though he seems quite pleased about this - and maintains that he's quite happy all alone - he harbors a secret need to be wanted by someone somewhere.
The only care he shows at all is to his farm, and his cruelty doesn't extend to his collection of beasts though he doesn't give them undue attention. Only his loyal dog, Killer, receives the odd pet or treat. Mort spends all his waking hours either working on his farm, or sat in a corner of a tavern somewhere drinking vast amounts of ale. He's usually the one to start brawls or be the first to be chucked out every night. He's actually banned from the tavern in his own village of Nettlestone, and has to walk the few miles to neighboring Underwood to drink there when he has the spare coin to do so.
Family:
Father - Bartholomew
Mother - Harriet
9 Misc. Brothers and Sisters
Background: Born into a typical farming family, Mort didn't have a particularly enjoyable childhood. With six other boisterous brothers, every day was a fight to be top dog. By the time he hit his teens, the constant scraps started to become a little more vicious and Mort would often have to tend to his own scraps, bruises and split lips. Their parents were hardly worthy of the label, more interested in the process of making children than raising them. Mort was usually in the middle of the ranks, not quite the worst off but not the most dominant brother. Markus was the cruelest and oldest of the seven boys, the only son that the father paid much attention to. He was to inherit the farm and fortune, and the rest of the offspring were effectively cast out on their ear as soon as they were old enough to work.
Rather than hanging around at the family home, Mort took an apprenticeship at a farm in Nettlestone and as luck would have it, he inherited the farm from the old man who had only daughters. The old man died a few years ago, and since then, Mort has been running the farm on his own. The old man's daughters had already left long ago, and Mort doubts they even know of their father's passing let alone care. Not that he shed a tear, but he at least buried the old man rather than dumping him in the forest to rot.
Scarping an honest living, Mort has little in the way of luxuries, and all his profit goes straight back into the farm and any leftovers goes on ale.
Anything else: Yummyyumyum. He has a dog called 'Killer'. He's not very friendly either.
Face Claim: Josh Holloway
Password: Oh la-di-dah!
Name: Tigglepot
Age: Ancient
How to contact you: Brainwaves
Role playing experience: Enough
Other Characters on this Site: Conor, Mari, Mason
------------------------------------------------------------
Mortimer Merrik
Mortimer Merrik
About your Character
Name: Mortimer Merrik
Nickname: Mort
Age: 26
Country: England
Position: Peasant
Job: Farmer
Eye Color: Grey
Hair Color: Blond, darker facial hair and nearer nape of neck.
Height: 6'
General Appearance: Like most farmers Mort is sun-bronzed with the right muscles for heavy lifting. He stands a modest six foot in height and sports not-too-wide shoulders and a distinctly built chest. Its fairly obvious that Mort is a hard-working man as his physique and calloused hands can attest to. Mort could be a rather handsome man if it weren't for the perpetual scowl and uninviting body language.
His dark blond hair is usually in disarray and gets cut when it becomes a nuisance. His dark stubble often gets the same treatment, sometimes going uncut for the winter to add some extra warmth.
Mort can always be found in sturdy boots and trousers, and during the summer months, sans-shirt. His attire is usually straggly unless he gets round to his meagre attempts to patch them up. Only his boots seem to be in good repair. Perhaps annually washed, Mort usually looks (and smells) as dirty as the sow he keeps inside his house unless he spends some time out in a rain shower.
Likes:
+ [Piña Coladas and] Getting caught in the rain
+ Ale
+ Potatoes
+ Hard work
+ His dog
+ His property
Dislikes:
- Trespassers
- Children
- Sloth
- Taxes
- Thieves
- Everybody
- Especially Nicolette
Personality: Grumpy. adjective Synonyms: (colloq.) surly, cantankerous, crabby, cross, crotchety, disgruntled, grouchy, irritable, moody, sullen, surly, testy.
Mort is never happy. He's always complaining about something. Even if everything is good and dandy, he'll find something or someone to take to the dogs. He doesn't have much reason to do what he does, though the fact that he was the least favorite child in a brood of 10 probably never helped matters. He finds every opportunity to put someone down, and unsurprisingly doesn't make many friends. Though he seems quite pleased about this - and maintains that he's quite happy all alone - he harbors a secret need to be wanted by someone somewhere.
The only care he shows at all is to his farm, and his cruelty doesn't extend to his collection of beasts though he doesn't give them undue attention. Only his loyal dog, Killer, receives the odd pet or treat. Mort spends all his waking hours either working on his farm, or sat in a corner of a tavern somewhere drinking vast amounts of ale. He's usually the one to start brawls or be the first to be chucked out every night. He's actually banned from the tavern in his own village of Nettlestone, and has to walk the few miles to neighboring Underwood to drink there when he has the spare coin to do so.
Family:
Father - Bartholomew
Mother - Harriet
9 Misc. Brothers and Sisters
Background: Born into a typical farming family, Mort didn't have a particularly enjoyable childhood. With six other boisterous brothers, every day was a fight to be top dog. By the time he hit his teens, the constant scraps started to become a little more vicious and Mort would often have to tend to his own scraps, bruises and split lips. Their parents were hardly worthy of the label, more interested in the process of making children than raising them. Mort was usually in the middle of the ranks, not quite the worst off but not the most dominant brother. Markus was the cruelest and oldest of the seven boys, the only son that the father paid much attention to. He was to inherit the farm and fortune, and the rest of the offspring were effectively cast out on their ear as soon as they were old enough to work.
Rather than hanging around at the family home, Mort took an apprenticeship at a farm in Nettlestone and as luck would have it, he inherited the farm from the old man who had only daughters. The old man died a few years ago, and since then, Mort has been running the farm on his own. The old man's daughters had already left long ago, and Mort doubts they even know of their father's passing let alone care. Not that he shed a tear, but he at least buried the old man rather than dumping him in the forest to rot.
Scarping an honest living, Mort has little in the way of luxuries, and all his profit goes straight back into the farm and any leftovers goes on ale.
Anything else: Yummyyumyum. He has a dog called 'Killer'. He's not very friendly either.
Face Claim: Josh Holloway
Password: Oh la-di-dah!
