Basic information
Name: Eirwen Blake
Age: 19
Rp character is typically involved with: fantasy, Victorian era, steam punk
Typical career for character: cook
Physical traits
Height: 6 ft flat
Weight : 130 lbs
Hair color: blond
Eye color: crystal blue
Body type: thin, very boyish
Personality
Shy, polite, religious, curious, intelligent
Fears: darkness, her father
Strengths: cooking, gardening, dealing with animals, fighting, first aid
Weaknesses: dealing with people, speaking in public
Role Playing sample
(Spell checking, please forgive any erors...)
As soon as she entered the market she could feel the many eyes of the wary townsfolk. She could already hear their whispers as she silently walked by.
" Oh would you look at that, the doll has come back." They would chide, followed by their own soft laughter. Eirwen would of coarse say nothing, simply bow her head and pretend that she couldn't hear their hurtful remarks. Doll was just one of the many names the townsfolk called her. Why? Because of the way her body was shaped. She did not look like a woman, at least in their eyes. Woman were supposed to be small, big breasted, were the latest fashions, smell of the sweatest perfumes, adorn themselves with jewlry and adorn their faces with make up. Eirwen did none of this. First off she was vastly tall, standing six foot tall, and that wasn't with the added heal of her shoes. With her shoes she toward over most of the men in the small village. Her body was thin, as if puberty decided to just briefly touch her leaving her with very small chest, and very slight waste. Her choice of clothing also did nothing to help her and only served to cover her small curves. She wore very modest, and long dresses usually of a dull gray color .And she wore no make up, nor adorned herself with any jewelry. Thus, it became to often a mistake for townsfolk to mistake her for a man. Thus evolved their calloused nickname for the poor soul. "Doll" because it very much seemed that she had no gender. The only thing they seemed to approve of was her long well cared for golden locks of hair, which she usually kept up in a taught pony tail.
They also called her ghost, do to the fact that she scarcely spoke and when she did speak she did so softly. Hell, even her voice was not very feminine sounding, sounding neither male or female. They also called her ghost because she would often appear and vanish at rather odd times without so much as a word or making any other sort of sound. Even the click of her heals against the pavement were muted. There was also a rather viscious rumor floating about that she was truly a man dressed in drag. Yes, the townsfolk were quite cruel.
Usually, it lead to nothing. Usually the townsfolk were content to stare and whisper. Calling her doll, ghost, or feed their rumor. Allowing her to for the most part do her business in peace. But today was different. Today a two children spotted the strange awkward girl as she visited the fruit stalls examining them for ingredients for the meals she would prepare for her master."Look it's the ghost!" Whispered one excitedly to his friends as they his away in a nearby alleyway. "No!" Retorted another angrily, "My da' says that's no ghost, but a doll!"
" Nu-uh! It's a ghost!"
" Don't be stupid ghosts don't come out during the day!"
"Yes they can!"
"Can not!"
"Can to! And I can prove it!"
"Oh yeah?! How?"
The first child fell silent for a moment and looked about, when a rather wicked idea suddenly struck him.
"I'll throw a rock. If the rock goes through it, it's a ghost. But if the rock hits it and it doesn't feel it, it's a doll."
That sounded like a rather good idea to the other child.
"Do it!" The first child giggled picking up a rather large rock in his grubby little hand. He slowly drew his small arm back, taking aim... And threw the rock straight at poor Eirwen's unsuspecting head....
