Create a Character Challenge #73

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Kitti, Jun 29, 2013.

  1. [FONT=Verdana][B]This challenge is one about making characters based on the setting that they're destined for and also just a fun romp with one of the most creative aspects of roleplaying: character making. Based on the image posted, my challenge is for you to create a character for that setting and post it here![/B][/FONT]
    [SIZE=12px][FONT=Verdana]This week's image:[/FONT][/SIZE]
    [FONT=Verdana][B][B]Feel free to utilize this character sheet or create your own:[/B][/B][/FONT]
    [FONT=Verdana][B]Current Goal/Purpose:[/B][/FONT]
  2. Name: Areiz Vine
    Age: 16
    Personality: Shy, Calm, Caring, Understanding.
    Appearance: [​IMG]
    Goal: To help others out of the terrible plague.
    Current Residence: Old Lab on the edge of town.
    Reason for Current Residence: A terrible plague has spread throughout the country, causing people's brains to decompose. They start ripping everything in their path apart with unusual strength before collapsing in death.
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  3. Name: Matthew Dean Ethelred

    Gender: Male

    Age: 28

    Species: Human

    Family: His grandmother passed on while he was on tour, no siblings to speak of. His mother gave him up at birth, and they don't get along too well, and his father...well, he's not really sure what the deal is with the man who he never knew, and the one part of the family his grandfather refused to talk about. His dog is about the closest to family he has.

    Personality: He's fiery, with a short temper, and a mouth to match. He's got a protective streak a mile long, and if you get between him and his, you'll find that he's also not afraid to go further than anyone else to get what he needs. He doesn't talk much about his past, and tries hard to be larger than life, funny, manly. He tends to be a little harder on his guy friends, and flirty to a fault, as though he sees every hottie that catches his eye as a potential conquest. Talks about adult life a little casually, doesn't seem to be to serious most of the time. He is, however, pretty friendly, and takes a lot of pride in his work.

    History: Matthew grew up on his grandfather's farm in the south, and didn't know any other life for his early years. Early to bed, early to rise, farm work, hunting, not really doing much. When he was thirteen, someone blew up the local army recruiting center, costing him that same grandfather that took him in. He joined up with the military as soon as he could, starting out as a grunt, and eventually getting himself a job after he finished school with the MPs, or military police. It was there, during his service that he decided to go for a change of pace, and leave his home. He wanted to actually serve his country. So he signed up for training with the special operations group, and managed to get into army Special Forces. For a few years, he served as a sniper, going on multiple missions around the world, mostly in active warzones. Realizing after a time that this sort of life still felt empty, like he was missing something, he got out of the military, and Took a job with the local police force in a city back home. Eventually, he rose to Detective, working out of Homicide and realized this is what had been missing. When his grandfather died, it was written off as a gas leak, and never looked at again. After all, who would bomb a recruiter's in a small, backwater farming town? Noone spoke for Randall. And now, Matthew could be that person, to speak for the dead. To ensure they got justice, and give them a voice after the wicked had robbed them of their lives.
    Current Goal/Purpose: Matthew is investigating the murder of a friend, another former Special Forces soldier living outside of the city. Police initially flagged it as an accident, a gas explosion. But it didn't quite add up, and he knew that Mick wasn't the type to light a match if he smelled gas at all. Well, that and the fact that a later search revealed that the windows hadn't been broken by the explosion, and that the glass splayed across the floor had been there first. Oh, and the fact that the door had been kicked in. No, this was a murder. A damn good one at that, designed to be innocent enough looking to your everyday police and professionally done. And Matt was going to find out who.
    Appearance: Matt stands an easy six foot, with short, dark hair, almost a sandy brown, and bright blue eyes. He's not terribly musclebound, but with a broad, square chest, and a decent musculature, spurred by his maintaining Spec Force physical requirements, and aiming to surpass them by double. He's fit, probably about 210 lbs, and lightly tanned skin. Typically, he can be found in a pullover cotton blend shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a shoulder holster on, blue jeans and dark brown leather boots, and often a black leather bomber. He cuts an impressive, almost rugged appearance, and has a crescent scar beside his right eye from going hunting with his granddad, and putting the scope right up to his eye.
    He maintains himself fairly well, and apart from the occasional two or three day stubble if he's on a case, he's usually clean shaven and smiling. Were one to remove his clothing, they would find his Spec Force division emblem tattooed on his left shoulder, Along with some tribal style ink running down his left forearm. On his chest, over his heart, is a wolf's pawprint and a bear's, and on the right side, an eagle's talon. They would also see scars running down his back, as though he was lashed for an extended period, as well as on the backs of his legs. He's relatively normal in every other respect, other than being more fit than your average joe.
    Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair as he came back to the rubble of what was once a modest house on the outskirts of town. Mick had been working on a farm, and was prone to fits of panic, paranoia, and anger after the last mission he'd run on. But he wasn't the type to break all his windows and blow himself up, accidental or not. The evidence told him that Mick had been killed, and ig he had to hazard a guess, the killer thought that the investigation had been given up on. There were some eerie parallels between his grandfather's case and this one, but Matt was sure that was simply a coincidence. The good part about all this was that this was a small town, so someone had to have seen something.
    A slender, pale man with black hair and brown eyes stepped into the room, pulling Matt's attention from the little details that told Matt this wasn't a totally professional hit, but it was close. Looking up at the man, he smiled, nodded, and opened his mouth. "Detective McMurtry, do me a favor and have units canvas the area. This is a small town, and if there's anything I learned about small towns it's that news never travels slow, so if someone visited Mick here, I want to know. If he had a fight, I want to know. Anything that'll tell me what actually happened here." He had, of course, filled the detectives he worked with in on the evidence that he believed supported a murder investigation, and they had agreed. McMurtry nodded, and turned to leave, while Matt went back to sifting through the remains of the small house.
    It was during that search through the wreckage, that Matt found an old ammo box sitting near a charred desk. Normally, even full, an explosion would have shifted the box, knocked it over. His eyebrow raised, and he flipped the lid, to reveal a switchboard, with three chromed toggles. Out of mild curiosity, the big Irish-Native flipped the top one, and a steel panel slid open on the floor, revealing a basement. "Well I'll be damned..." Matt said, as he began to descend the stairs. This was going to be an interesting case after all, and he had only scratched the surface.

  4. Name: Arthur Flanagan II
    Gender: Male
    Age: 64
    Species: Once human, now a ghost

    Family: Arthur's father was Arthur Flanagan, Sr., and his mother was Susan Ridgeworth. Arthur was the father of Arthur Flanagan III, Samantha Robertson, and Walter Flanagan; he was also the grandfather of Derek and Lisa, Arthur III's children, Albert, Mary's son, and George and William, Walter's boys.

    Personality: Arthur was a stern, no-nonsense kind of guy. He believed that hard work and perseverance were the key to every man, and he proved his ideals every day out in the fields. He took no guff from anyone, not even his own family, and made sure he raised his children good and proper. He was never abusive, but he believed in a firm hand when it came to discipline. Above all, he never slowed down, not even in old age. Arthur was always working on something or another, and for the most part it was to make his family's life a better one. He was always adding and removing rooms and fixtures to the house, and always made sure he grew enough food for his family first and foremost.

    History: Arthur was a product of an older time, an older generation. Some may have called him jaded, but he preferred to call it firm beliefs and ideals. He was the son of Arthur Flanagan, Sr. and he showed it in his every move, word, and action. He was one of the hardest workers on his father's farm, and for the most part made his old man proud. His father taught him the firm moral values and no-backtalk attitude he had in life, and proved his worth through work just as Arthur did after him. After growing older, marrying his childhood sweetheart Elizabeth, and settling down on his father's old farm, Arthur resolved to teach his children the same values and morals his father did him. However, Arthur was not expecting a daughter, and as such almost raised her as a son before Elizabeth graciously intervened. Arthur did get his chance at raising a child, however, as he and Elizabeth had not one, but two more boys; three years apart. His eldest son, who he named Arthur after his father, was more receptive to his teachings, but Walter, named after Arthur II's uncle, proved to be a bit more of a handful. Arthur almost had a second daughter, but what would have been Sierra Flanagan was a stillborn, and both Arthur and Elizabeth grieved, but little Sierra's death hit Elizabeth the hardest. She fell ill, her immune system unable to fight back from her lack of sleep. Arthur tried his best to help Elizabeth, but it was too late. She had succumbed to sickness, and died much too early at the age of 44. Arthur, then 47, spent the rest of his life mourning Elizabeth's death. His children were old enough to make their own living by now, but Arthur spent every waking hour doing what he always did. To cope, or to honor Elizabeth's memory; his reasons were taken with him to his grave. Some say that the day Elizabeth died was the day Arthur died; they wouldn't be far from the truth. Though Arthur carried out his daily tasks with the same amount of effort, his passion was gone. It is said that Arthur just died one day, his body fallen in the middle of the field only for his ghost to rise and pick up right where he left off.

    Current Goal/Purpose: Do ghosts have a purpose? Maybe. Arthur remains behind in this run-down old house because it was all he knew. After Elizabeth died, Arthur felt he had no more purpose in life. He follows the same routine day after day that he followed after his beloved's death. Some of the bolder kids who come up the the abandoned house come back with stories of "an old cowboy dude" who wanders the overgrown farmland, still acting as though he were growing crops and raising livestock.

    Appearance: Arthur appears as he did in life: Tough and wiry, yet definitely aged. He is by no means decrepit, however, and his worn, nearly tattered cowboy's garb tells the tale of his life on the ranch. Though he appears resolute, one can see the pain and regret in his eyes. If one could touch him, his skin would feel leathery, almost calloused, from all the years of toil and hard labor. His muscles would be aged, but still wiry and very much powerful. His face, wrinkled from age, sorrow, and grief, would tell a thousand tales; you have but to ask.
  5. Sophie Milano.jpg
    Sophie Milano
    Gender: Female
    Age: 26
    Species: Human, I should hope, darlin'
    Family: Papa is the head of the Milano family & Associates and Mama, well, Mama just likes to spend his money. At the tender age of fourteen, little brother's jumping head first into the underground. Sister just turned eighteen and she's workin' the speakeasy these days. The way I figure it, half of Papa's made-men oughta just be called "uncle" as well since this gal's known 'em her whole life.
    Personality: What can I say? Some gents liken me to a peach, soft and sweet, but these boys have got it all turned around. Oh, I know how to play the part of that pretty little dollface they all wish I was and I'll be damned if I don't do it just swell. But this gal, oh, this gal knows how to run a man through. None of Pietro Milano's offspring are ever going to play the fool and he made sure of it. I can tell when you are lying to me and I will call you out on it while tellin' my own little falsehoods. Sharp-tongued and witty make a deadly combination...and maybe just maybe that is what drew him to me. But let me tell you, darlin'. I am no heartless snake of a woman. I know compassion and I give it those who deserve it.
    History: Born and raised in America. Papa says Brother, Sister and I are the start of a grand generation and I believe him. Ever since we were little, we've only wanted to make him proud and follow in his footsteps. Brother has a better chance because, well, who ever heard of a woman-fronted mafia? A gal can dream though. A gal can dream... At best I'd be a mafia wife and I realized this at a young age. All the better for it because from that point on I let myself love wildly and without fear, so much so that this heart of mine's got more scrapes and bruises and stitches on it than the boys comin' back from war during my adolescent days. But I kept on loving, from the time I entered school until the time I graduated and carried on. Last April we met and in the most Shakespearean way imaginable. Up at the old Moonshine estate, being precisely where I ought not to be I might add, overseeing a new shipment because Uncle Ren was busy with a, shall we say, gentleman acquaintance. And here comes my Romeo, storming onto the scene with his men waving their shotguns around like they're worth treading carefully around. That Romeo stole Papa's whole shipment, turned my boys into Swiss cheese, and left a smoldering kiss on my lips. Goddamn that boy. Since then we've had to change locations for the operation and in just two years the estate has fallen into disrepair. But that is just how this business works. Papa's talkin' about sellin' the land but, you see, that poses a slight problem for me...
    Current Goal/Purpose: I figure the best thing I can do right now is keep seeing him in secret because, oh, if only Papa knew... Where? At the old estate of course. It's where we first met.
    Appearance: Now, now. This gal you're chatting up isn't too fond of the old ways. I may be a lady but, gosh, those flapper girls really do have some style! Papa doesn't like it too much but he raised me to be a strong, independent woman so it's his own fault.