Post by Halfblood on Jun 9, 2009 10:28:07 GMT -5
Call me Cleo !!
Name: Cleo Rorivak
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Age: 18
World of origin: Rodylia
Allegiance: Mercenary-for-Hire/ Hitman
Description:
Hair Color/Length: Cleo's hair is a deep russet brown color that is sometimes mistaken for being black. It is shaped in a short bob so it stays out of her way.
Eye Color: Very light blue
Body Build: Petite
Complexion: Pale with a slight tint of gold, but Cleo doesn't tan, she burns.
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 108
Apparel: Cleo is known for wearing men's clothing, and usually has a baggy black longsleeved shirt under a gray jacket she normally wears. She also wears black leggings and leather shoes to maximize movement.
Summary: Cleo is a very narrow-framed girl with thin and papery skin and a fragile appearance. Although this is how she appears, it is not how she acts. She has muscle hidden underneath her tiny arms and legs, and hard bones that need a lot of force if they should break. Cleo is blessed with this facade and puts it to good use. Although she is a woman, Cleo has little curve to her, and can pull off looking like a man if needs be.
Skills/Weapons:
BRUTE STRENGTH:; Because Cleo possesses no such magic skills or any of the sort, she distinctly relies on her muscle power and speed. She is very skilled with a sword and is agile on her feet. Cleo is very strong, and is able to take on men twice her size by herself because of this fact.
SWORD PLZ:; Being a mercenary, Cleo has to possess some kind of weapon, and all though her killing resources seem unlimited, she mainly uses her trusty sword. This baby was created using dragon scales, meaning they can deflect magic, and it is hard to break. It shines a deep orange red color under the sunlight, but in darkness, it looks like a normal sword.
ASSORTMENT OF WEAPONS:; Cleo is known for her endless stream of tiny buy-em-anywhere tools. She has daggers, needles, poison barbs, even whips, all hidden somewhere on her body. Although this is helpful, it is also dangerous because one of her many weapons could easily knick her and cause damage.
Personality:
Likes: Feeling Strong, Short Hair, Money, Reputation
Dislikes: Her Father, Her looks, Long Hair, Loss
Orientation: Heterosexual
Fears: Death
Goals: To become a skilled enough Mercenary to be considered by the higher ups of society
Summary: Cleo is stubborn and independent. She enjoys doing things her way and will rarely ever follow someone elses advice. Her mouth is somewhat foul when it comes to arguing, and she is known for the vulgar words she knows. Cleo is happy with herself sure, but her self-esteem is very low, and a single flaw that someone happens to notice throws Cleo into offensive mode. She isn't known to cry infront of people, but that doesn't mean she hasn't shed a tear in isolation. Although people think of her as a stronger mercenary then most, she sees herself as a weak child and lucky to boot. The only thing that keeps her going is the money she is lucky enough to earn, and she puts it to good use.
When Cleo is with others, she rarely ever shows her soft side. She appears to be tough and smart, when really she is panicking on the inside. Luckily, she can hide her mind's eye from others so no one can know what is really going on in her head.
History:
Cleo had a pretty normal upbringing. She was born to a rich merchant under his third wife, and inherited the woman’s lovely brown hair. Her infanthood was highlighted with trips to aristocrat’s homes and playdates with the higher ups of society. As she progressed through her baby years, her polygamist father welcomed in three more children in that same year. His first wife was no longer obsessed with the baby Cleo as she had been before, but focused on her other son, who had inherited her father’s red locks instead. The second wife, too had a son, and his tresses were crimson in color, the same as her husband’s. Even Cleo’s own mother had another daughter with curly red hair that was so similar to the man who had given her life, and she, Cleo, was stuck with pencil-straight long brown hair. Because she looked nothing like her father, she was not treated the same in the household anymore, and she no longer played with the aristocrats’ children. She merely played by herself.
As Cleo aged, she became a beautiful, but not attractive, woman. She was skinny, but her face carried a certain rugged quality. Her hair was boring, and made her head appear flat. Compared to her other siblings, she was the black sheep, and she acted like it too. The only one who took sympathy on her, was her father. He held her when she cried, listened to her when she was angry, and comforted her when she was criticized. The two shared a very endearing relationship, and every time the girl left his office, he told her that he loved her hair the most. Cleo was happy the man treated her so, and spent hours upon hours in his study, talking with him.
By the time she was sixteen, Cleo led a secret life. She had mastered the skill of swordsmanship and was highly respected by her peers. Her family had no idea what kind of things she did, but her father had hints of her behavior. Cleo worked as a hitman in her early days, killing people who needed to be killed, and not thinking a thing about it. Only when her father yelled at her, and told her to leave, did she realize how bad she had seemed to her whole family. She didn’t care though, and ran away as her father instructed, leaving behind everything she knew. Before she left though, she managed to take with her, her father’s most prized weapon. The glinting orange sword that could deflect magic and never break rode with her away from the village where she had grown up in.
At 17, Cleo earned her first real job. Her client was a grimy old man who paid her to amputate his old lover’s left hand. Confused, and a little uncomfortable with the offer, she agreed, and went and completed his task. Little did she know the woman was actually her sister. When she saw her, she tagged her and now she will never be allowed to own property, or anything of the sort. She has made it so she seemingly doesn’t exist.
A year has passed and she still follows this pattern. Cleo does not own anything and carries everything with her. She stays away from big cities and kills who she needs to kill. Sure she lives a gory lifestyle, but this is who she is.
RP Sample:
She sat, idle in the branch of the large oaktree. Her eyes scanned the perimeter, her sword perched right beside her as she mindlessly swung her legs back and forth. A lazy breeze grabbed locks of her hair, and she grabbed them and straightened them with a flick of her tiny wrist. Her client should have been here by now, but because he was late, she would demand for a higher price. Cleo lighted from the tree in a lithe movement, and headed for the ground face first, a look of sincerity plain on her face. She dropped like a weighted doll through the air, but before her brain could liquify due to impact, she rotated herself so her feet hit the ground instead. Brushing herself off in haste, she straightened up and looked on as a tiny man came trotting to their meeting place.
Cleo grimaced, her sword supporting her as she leaned against the hilt, paying no mind to the dwarfish man and his many ogre-like henchmen. She could have easily beheaded them all of course, but she refrained herself. Cleo needed this money. Her eyes traced the tiny man's figure and smirked as she overexaggerated a bow, so her forehead nearly touched the ground. Grinning when she came back up, she kneeled so they were face-to-face. Her free hand came from her side, and the little man took it gruffly, shaking it once before letting it fall again. His voice was squeaky and annoying as he spoke, but the mercenary listened intently. Nodding at his words. "Listen Cleo, I need three heads this time. One man refused to pay me his taxes and left the area before I could arrest him, I would also like my wife's head and her alledged boyfriend. She cheated on me and I would like her to know that nobody can do that to Ulrich Rastershire the third." Cleo rolled her eyes, but stood up and bowed once more.
"Give me three days and then come back here, all three of their heads will be sitting at the foot of this tree. No remember the deal, no less then 300 gold for this one." She stated as she accepted the portraits of each victim. Nodding once in agreement, Cleo sheathed her sword and started sprinting towards point A, leaving the little man and his three henchmen behind her.
