Characters
Most of the below are characters which star in
an online roleplay; others are purely from my imagination that will no doubt fit
into furture stories.
Rocky Maltio
Rocky
walks in, fairly slow unhurried walk, with his gaze drifting over the area,
inspecting through his Spanish deep blue eyes, his gaze showing an obvious shade
of sorrow, haunting over his eyes. His hair often caught by the wind, drifting
exasperatingly over his eyes, adding a more daunting look to him, the colour to
his hair being a deep shade of red, almost folding onto a brown. Around his neck
hangs several necklaces, the more profound being the necklace of winds, drooping
down over his shirt, between the folds of his jacket, along with the a locket,
golden in the shape of a boot usually always worn over his shirt, Then a
necklace usually worn underneath the shirt, but the chain is visible, then the
initial main piece of necklace if shown it looks to be a dragon's scale, crystal
clear like a prism that breaks up the light that hits it into dazzling rainbows.
On its surface, is a single rune surrounded with many others, almost too tiny to
make out. His shirt peeks through most often to none black, a perfect fit, not
overly tight, but not loose and baggy, white lines of cotton detailing the
initial sewing of the shirt, his Jacket drawn over his shirt covering most of
his shirt to the eye. The shoulders more harder then previously seen, tougher
but fabric still over the section, visually more of a blind effect three parts
each atop the other, before continuing with the closer tighter material. More of
a blue colour then a black, but the sheer darkness of it, showing it as black
with a toning of blue, the collars following the normal path of a collar yet the
corners turned up curving only slightly, the cuffs of the arm, stopping neatly
just over his wrists, feeding a way through for his hands, fairly rough hands
not to smooth, holding a copper coloured ring over a finger, the other piece of
jewellery on the left hand on his wedding finger a ring formed from primroses,
combining to give the shape for the ring, each linking from one to another to
form the wedding band. ….. The shirt seen in between the two ends of his
jacket either tucked in or let free to hang over his trousers. The belt
separating the two halves, holding daggers sheath, two on either side, his
trousers taking on the shade of a dark red, seen to be more of a black with the
tinting of the red only sometimes showing through with artificial lights
directed over the material, the bottom cuffs of his trousers, folding onto over
his shoe’s, taking the form of black, rather strong looking, yet worn heavily
. . .
Smooth
His gaze a constant flicker of pale
blue….yet…. light, oh so light it could easily be missed within the blink of
one’s eye, yet its always there. . . Usually. His body reaching heights,
reaching around six foot. Though his body held and wrapped within the wall of
soft darkness. Hair casing over his forehead fairly long fringe, a recent colour
change in hair it’s ‘turning’. Brought to a faint style of blue pulling
through the red strict shade the strands held before; perhaps a washing? His
eyes seemingly replacing the colour his hair lost, red. The pupils a white-red
easily becoming accustomed to their flicker during colour change. His eyes for
most of the part seem dead; perhaps wintriness emerged over? The next imperative
facial feature would be the lips. . . The ‘opening’ to his inner being,
usually held in a strict sense of being untailored, which perhaps made it
formal. . . held extremely tight. The collars of his clothing, the shirt covered
half of his neck, a stiff tense collar…folded down onto the actual shirt a
dark black, in all its glory the most recognized essence of black was its
smoothness, his shirt was truly smooth; a bare ripple with any of his movements.
The sleeves were long, reaching down to his wrists, the cuffs the usual pattern
folded back onto itself, held a lighter form of black. . . The colour was grey.
. . Yet Black is darker then grey. His skin pale. . . as though it had never
lived; yet it hadn’t, his fingers coiled. . . held against his sides. The
trousers he wore we’re indeed black, following the previous suite, yet they
were different. . . They were reddening black. . . Deep, the trousers are not
heavy, yet not light, not big nor baggy, yet not clingy and tight; smoothly
fitting to his figure allowing enough room for suave movement. The trousers
folded over the boots he wore, they indeed were heavy yet not worn, and they
looked brand new, as if he took great pride in their visuals. The trim to the
boot was red, the stitching, the lace all the same, if the underside was ever to
be seen, the grip ridges they were given would be seen as red, yet somehow
seemed alive within a dead manor, they would almost appear blood like.
Corran Rocky Maltio
CorranRocky walks in rather proudly
formation. Wearing mainly black attire, as if in mourning of a loosed one, or
vampire or neither…perhaps he just likes the illusions that come with
darkness. His eyes darker then usual the once warm blue solidifying to more that
of ‘ice cold.’ A previous youthful; ‘cute’ appearance broadened to a
more intense show of a reflection of his ‘inner’ self. His blonde hair now
darker deep to that of the colour black...spiked roughly without any care, rough
and urban just idle slapped up with gel. Infiltrating his hair are a few streaks
of purple. Wearing as previously stated black, all black near enough, a black
cotton shirt thrown over a black cotton tank top, his arms not left
bare…covered by this shirt. The collars of his shirt stiff and rigid, but. A
silver necklace coming from both sides of the collar long and fairly drooping
holding a locket, swinging briskly with the wind as he walks. Black tight pants
clinging to his legs, not making a sound, not even a rustling sound as he walks
through, creased and crinkled falling down over his boots, made from tough
material protecting his feet from unsightly disasters. Thrown over from around
his shoulders a bag held low to the rear, black in colour, with a yellow trim.
Holstering several weapons in various place some seen some not, those seen
obviously at brief times are the shoulder holsters inside underneath his shirt,
holstering two pistols, followed by an ankle holster strapped over his pants,
holstering a smaller sized pistol. A small thin sized scabbard also strapped to
him having holes in his shirt not big open holes, just big enough for straps to
go around underneath his shirt from prying eyes. The straps black the bow Silver
well decorated holding design styles of not once culture but many, the main one
portrait being Spanish. Held inside the scabbard only the hilt seen when
unsheathed. The hilt itself very stylised twisting and turn into the grip, meet
by the cross bar, the bar running sideways along having a green gem, emerald
perhaps? Not really able to judge the stone of it unless they had a keen eye for
such gems. The gem inlodged into the metal, curving leaves vine type figures
holding it. Then meet the scabbard. When exposed brought out into the open its
seen to be a very bright silver no rust blade, many scratches giving the
impression its been used countless times in many battles, wars. That all his
weapons he holds perhaps? Maybe not there the ones visually seen obviously,
others many hidden in different locations to prying eyes. His face one of that
of sure kindness if it could be unmasked from the darker ominous glow through
the seeming rough hard, and unsympathetic gaze…were these really his
qualities? The harshness portrayed in his face a real representation of him?
Tyson LeeHawk
Jessica
Jessie walks into the room with. Long
brown hair, which is flowing over onto her shoulders, closer inspection would
bring soft flecks of purple into sight, bouncing into the light. Her face curved
and shaped to an acute ‘childish’ despite her actual age; the reflection
unto her personality was bona fide. Her hair stopped short at her back, rippling
over the backpack, stylish design a certain ‘tomboy’ appeal; branded
‘Nike’. The straps of the backpack ran round over her shoulders onto her
chest, the straps constricted the shirt little, fabric was a soft dark black,
yet formed no ‘scary’ presence. The cuffs of the shirt hung over her hands
yet not concealing the light from bouncing of the ‘synthetic’ ring, looking
to be that of a wedding ring. The shirt stopped barely at the forming of the
trousers matching the previous color hanging slack, dropping over a pair of
white trainers. Though she doesn’t hold a card which states her children’s
names history and past including their friends she apparently has many
(someone)
Through the cavernous russet eyes the soul within stares out into the nexus she’s found herself in, watching out of the field of vision the pupils allow. Curling strands of eyelashes coated with shady thick mascara adding a characteristic inquisitive tint to the manifestation partially cover the lower and upper view. Her eyebrows emaciated relaxed causing no wrinkles to emerge over the shiny flesh of her forehead; bronzed with a light golden shade. The flesh of her face enhanced by the applying of makeup, adding a soft hue to her cheeks. A dominant aspect of her face is her lips; intense brought from the coating layer of pink lipstick, complementing her facial features. The lower of the lip alluring the light often adding an soft reflection. Shrouding her face often blurring before her are the lengthy copious strands of dark tresses. Bare shoulders appealing to the daylight obviously stated by leaving a darker golden personification. Clothing only coming into visual around the lower chest, perfectly covering the ample sized breasts. The purple fabric allowing easy path for wrinkles the lower it stretch. The hem of the clothing stop inches from the waistband of her jeans, allowing a brief section of flesh to be in visual when moving. The jeans embrace close over her hips a tough dark navy blue shade covering the legs completely down to the ankle from their they spread out over the black leather ankle boots.