Post by Fyvle on May 13, 2006 16:09:36 GMT -5
Name: Fyvle
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Race: Elf but can shapeshift
Birth Place: The Forest somewhere
Appearence: Fyvle has shoulder length dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She is 5 foot 6 and has an athletic body after years of swordplay. Her clothing sense is...different. She prefers greens and browns (colours of the forest) to pinks and reds like her friends wear.
History: She was brought up by her grandmother who was a shapeshifter but she never recieved any of her mothers powers, or so she thinks. Little is known about her father, except that he worked for the Royal Fmaily and that he was a complete idiot who beat her mother about. From a young age, she leart how to use the sword and became a very powerful spellcaster. When she was 15, she ran away from home and has been travelling since.
Personality: Fyvle is a fiesty young woman. Although she is not particularly fond of violence, she never backs down from a fight. Tending to keep more to herself, she does have a tendancy of falling for the bad boys. She loves to run away from where she should be and going against all the rules.
Sample Role Play: Footsteps echoed through the streets of the town. Strands of the young girl's dirty blonde hair escaped from her band which tied her hair back. Her green tunic was blood stained and her sword thudded softly on the back of her legs. Her pursuer was getting closer.
She skidded to a stop, Oh perfect, she thought as she looked down the fork in the street. She spun around, "Ahhh!" she yelled as she saw him, No! Spinning back around, she darted left up the street. Leaping over a crate on the ground, something grabbed her round the waist.
Fyvle fell to the ground with a thud, her chin cracking against the ground. She could taste blood where she'd split her lip. Her capturer rolled her over and raised a dagger, "Do you know how much trouble you've caused?" he demanded. The blonde girl smirked, "I'm about to cause a hell of alot more!" She beant her leg and pulled a dagger out one of her boots. With a quick reflex, she rammed it into the side of his head and slid out from under him, his blood covering her.
Her head snapped up when she realised someone was there.
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Race: Elf but can shapeshift
Birth Place: The Forest somewhere
Appearence: Fyvle has shoulder length dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She is 5 foot 6 and has an athletic body after years of swordplay. Her clothing sense is...different. She prefers greens and browns (colours of the forest) to pinks and reds like her friends wear.
History: She was brought up by her grandmother who was a shapeshifter but she never recieved any of her mothers powers, or so she thinks. Little is known about her father, except that he worked for the Royal Fmaily and that he was a complete idiot who beat her mother about. From a young age, she leart how to use the sword and became a very powerful spellcaster. When she was 15, she ran away from home and has been travelling since.
Personality: Fyvle is a fiesty young woman. Although she is not particularly fond of violence, she never backs down from a fight. Tending to keep more to herself, she does have a tendancy of falling for the bad boys. She loves to run away from where she should be and going against all the rules.
Sample Role Play: Footsteps echoed through the streets of the town. Strands of the young girl's dirty blonde hair escaped from her band which tied her hair back. Her green tunic was blood stained and her sword thudded softly on the back of her legs. Her pursuer was getting closer.
She skidded to a stop, Oh perfect, she thought as she looked down the fork in the street. She spun around, "Ahhh!" she yelled as she saw him, No! Spinning back around, she darted left up the street. Leaping over a crate on the ground, something grabbed her round the waist.
Fyvle fell to the ground with a thud, her chin cracking against the ground. She could taste blood where she'd split her lip. Her capturer rolled her over and raised a dagger, "Do you know how much trouble you've caused?" he demanded. The blonde girl smirked, "I'm about to cause a hell of alot more!" She beant her leg and pulled a dagger out one of her boots. With a quick reflex, she rammed it into the side of his head and slid out from under him, his blood covering her.
Her head snapped up when she realised someone was there.