Post by tigeress on Feb 1, 2008 21:35:57 GMT
About you
Name: Tiggs
Age: 20
How to contact you: AIM: tigeress1603
Role playing experience: 6 years or so. Mostly wolves, some humans/fantasy humans in there somewhere.
Other Characters on this Site: None yet.
About your Character
Name: Conor McCarthy
Nickname: Conor
Age: 19
Country: England
Position: Peasant
Job: Stable Hand/Leather Worker
Eye Color: Grey/blue
Hair Color: Dusty blond
Height: 5'10"
General Appearance: At a medium height, Conor is not very imposing. His general build is a lithe one, with a lean body and functional understated muscle tone. His arms are particularly strong from his work, and his sturdy hands are warm and calloused. His face is well-proportioned and somewhat homely. His eyes are a cool blue and grey mixture which suit the dusty blond of his hair. His hair is shoulder-length and naturally wavy. He usually pulls it up into a pony-tail else it curls about his face and falls into his eyes.
Conor usually wears sturdy trousers made of well-treated leather. He prefers them to lighter leggings as they protect him when he rides or works. He wears a loose cotton shirt and a leather body-warmer and either strong leather boots or leather slipper/moccasin depending on his tasks for the day. All his leather attire he has made himself and the quality is well above par.
Likes: Horses, leather, venison and bird song.
Dislikes: Soldiers, loud noises, snakes and thunderstorms.
Personality: Conor is a quiet individual, with a tendency to spend more time with the horses he attends than his few human friends. He is a recluse, and when he's not tending horses or riding them, he's working in his employer's shop working leather for clothing or saddles. He takes great pride in his work, and will put the safety of the horses before his own.
He keeps social interactions to a minimum, and rarely initiates a conversation. He will not reject human interaction but he feels uncomfortable talking to most people. His body-language is either defensive or apprehensive but he ever watchful of his surroundings. He never lashes out, and is slow to anger preferring to be passive in most situations.
Family:
Mother - Anberlin - Deceased
Father - Jack - 50 - Currently living further West.
Sister - Aideen - 20 - Currently living in Nottingham.
Brother - Berach - 17 - Living with Aideen in Nottingham.
Background: Brought up in Ireland, Conor and his family moved to England when he was young in search of work. Settling in Nottingham Town, his father found a job as a blacksmith and became famous for his excellent work. His mother was fond of the horses, and found work here and there tending to wounded horses.
To his father's disappointment, Conor became more interested in the horses than blacksmithing, and he took an interest in making saddles for the majestic beasts. His father found him an apprenticeship in the village of Knighton, and at the age of 16, Conor moved to the village and worked with the blacksmith there who taught him the art of leather-working. On a weekend visit to Nottingham, a terrible storm rolled in suddenly and he and his mother rushed to gather in the horses from the pasture. One young stallion, frightened by the thunder, reared and kicked out blindly. The horse's hooves struck his mother who fell unconscious and two nights later, died without waking.
Conor's father was distraught, and after making sure his children were settled in Nottingham, travelled West in the hopes of forgetting the terrible tragedy. Conor now spends most of his time in Knighton and only sees his siblings on the rare excursion to Nottingham.
Anything else: PONIEZ. RIP Heath <3
Face Claim: Heath Ledger <3333
RP Sample: The straw mattress beneath him rustled as Conor shifted restlessly. The storm was rumbling in the distance, and even though he knew the horses were safely shut up in their stables, he couldn't help but worry. The rain started to fall, he could hear it - slow at first - hitting the paved areas outside his shuttered window. It felt like minutes though it was probably an hour before the storm came over head. The claps of deafening thunder seemed to rattle the house, and Conor unconsciously tugged his sheet higher over his chest.
He closed his eyes tight, but the lightning flashes found a way around the shutters and lit he inside of his eyelids red. The storm eventually passed, and Conor was still shivering slightly under the sheet. The world was eerily quiet until the sun broke the horizon and the cockerel song his wake-up crow. Conor's head throbbed at the sound, and he was tempted to try and sleep until noon to catch up with his sleepless night, but the soft whinny of his favourite mare drifted through the shutters, and the stable-hand reluctantly dragged himself out of bed to dress.
Password: Good day to die. *sniffle*
Name: Tiggs
Age: 20
How to contact you: AIM: tigeress1603
Role playing experience: 6 years or so. Mostly wolves, some humans/fantasy humans in there somewhere.
Other Characters on this Site: None yet.
------------------------------------------------------------
Conor McCarthy
Conor McCarthy
About your Character
Name: Conor McCarthy
Nickname: Conor
Age: 19
Country: England
Position: Peasant
Job: Stable Hand/Leather Worker
Eye Color: Grey/blue
Hair Color: Dusty blond
Height: 5'10"
General Appearance: At a medium height, Conor is not very imposing. His general build is a lithe one, with a lean body and functional understated muscle tone. His arms are particularly strong from his work, and his sturdy hands are warm and calloused. His face is well-proportioned and somewhat homely. His eyes are a cool blue and grey mixture which suit the dusty blond of his hair. His hair is shoulder-length and naturally wavy. He usually pulls it up into a pony-tail else it curls about his face and falls into his eyes.
Conor usually wears sturdy trousers made of well-treated leather. He prefers them to lighter leggings as they protect him when he rides or works. He wears a loose cotton shirt and a leather body-warmer and either strong leather boots or leather slipper/moccasin depending on his tasks for the day. All his leather attire he has made himself and the quality is well above par.
Likes: Horses, leather, venison and bird song.
Dislikes: Soldiers, loud noises, snakes and thunderstorms.
Personality: Conor is a quiet individual, with a tendency to spend more time with the horses he attends than his few human friends. He is a recluse, and when he's not tending horses or riding them, he's working in his employer's shop working leather for clothing or saddles. He takes great pride in his work, and will put the safety of the horses before his own.
He keeps social interactions to a minimum, and rarely initiates a conversation. He will not reject human interaction but he feels uncomfortable talking to most people. His body-language is either defensive or apprehensive but he ever watchful of his surroundings. He never lashes out, and is slow to anger preferring to be passive in most situations.
Family:
Mother - Anberlin - Deceased
Father - Jack - 50 - Currently living further West.
Sister - Aideen - 20 - Currently living in Nottingham.
Brother - Berach - 17 - Living with Aideen in Nottingham.
Background: Brought up in Ireland, Conor and his family moved to England when he was young in search of work. Settling in Nottingham Town, his father found a job as a blacksmith and became famous for his excellent work. His mother was fond of the horses, and found work here and there tending to wounded horses.
To his father's disappointment, Conor became more interested in the horses than blacksmithing, and he took an interest in making saddles for the majestic beasts. His father found him an apprenticeship in the village of Knighton, and at the age of 16, Conor moved to the village and worked with the blacksmith there who taught him the art of leather-working. On a weekend visit to Nottingham, a terrible storm rolled in suddenly and he and his mother rushed to gather in the horses from the pasture. One young stallion, frightened by the thunder, reared and kicked out blindly. The horse's hooves struck his mother who fell unconscious and two nights later, died without waking.
Conor's father was distraught, and after making sure his children were settled in Nottingham, travelled West in the hopes of forgetting the terrible tragedy. Conor now spends most of his time in Knighton and only sees his siblings on the rare excursion to Nottingham.
Anything else: PONIEZ. RIP Heath <3
Face Claim: Heath Ledger <3333
RP Sample: The straw mattress beneath him rustled as Conor shifted restlessly. The storm was rumbling in the distance, and even though he knew the horses were safely shut up in their stables, he couldn't help but worry. The rain started to fall, he could hear it - slow at first - hitting the paved areas outside his shuttered window. It felt like minutes though it was probably an hour before the storm came over head. The claps of deafening thunder seemed to rattle the house, and Conor unconsciously tugged his sheet higher over his chest.
He closed his eyes tight, but the lightning flashes found a way around the shutters and lit he inside of his eyelids red. The storm eventually passed, and Conor was still shivering slightly under the sheet. The world was eerily quiet until the sun broke the horizon and the cockerel song his wake-up crow. Conor's head throbbed at the sound, and he was tempted to try and sleep until noon to catch up with his sleepless night, but the soft whinny of his favourite mare drifted through the shutters, and the stable-hand reluctantly dragged himself out of bed to dress.
Password: Good day to die. *sniffle*
