What's in a name #1

C

Celest

Guest
Original poster
A well-developed character is one of the most essential parts of a roleplay. But thinking up a character name can be one of the hardest. Sometimes a name hits just right and everything falls into place. So, my task for you is to take the given name and run wild with the provided character sheet. Add as much to it as you’d like! Own this character, make it yours.

Mel Valdis
Appearance (description/picture):

Age:

Gender:

Genre:

Personality:

Occupation:

Background:

Weapons/Abilities/Powers (if applicable):

World/Culture (optional):

Introduction post (optional):

Thank you @Greenie, @Fel of the Eternal Forest for letting me bounce off thoughts <3
 
Mel Valdis

Appearance (description/picture):
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Age: 23
Gender: Female
Genre: Fantasy
Personality: Eccentric, with a love for crafting dwarven ale, even though she isn't even dwarven. Loves life even in the face of the realities of war. Doesn't let her elven heritage stand in her way, even in a mostly human city.
Occupation: Barkeep/owner
Background: Third generation owner of the Mostly Suds bar in the capitol or Ary
Weapons/Abilities/Powers (if applicable): Isn't really a fighter, but knows how to throw drunken customers out. Natural grappler from decades of experience.
World/Culture (optional): A half-elven girl in a human city. Considered a pariah by those who don't patron her bar. While much of the capitol is in an uproar over the 48th year of one continuous war, her quarter isn't much affected.
Introduction post (optional):
Mel set down her tray at a darkened table in the corner. Three ales, four men. It didn't add up, but there were no questions to be asked. Only coin to earn. She knew at least one of the men in passing, usually frequented the Hogs Hindquarters down the lane. Didn't recognize any of the others.

If any of them had any sort of signifying marks they were hidden. Even though she didn't give a deep glance into their business, passive perception was always a must in her business. How many times had she turned away a knife and sent a man reeling? Too many to count. These men though, had a scent to them. Lavender. Well groomed, except the one she recognized.

She thanked them for their patronage, picking her tray and curtsying out of the way. No tip, no thank you, just a smart glare from a man she didn't even know. As if he was appraising her worth. It sent a shock up her spine. Deftly she stepped slightly to the right as he groped at her left cheek. "No, thank you, sir." She said, continuing to walk away. These pigs always thought she was less than a person because one of her parents was an elf. Best tender this place ever had, her mother was.
 

Mel Valdis
Appearance (description/picture):
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Age: 53

Gender: Male

Genre: Sci-Fi

Personality: Stubborn to a fault, Mel is more than set in his ways. You know that saying "you can't teach an old dog new tricks"? Well, Mel is that old dog. He's pure old school in everything he does. Quick-witted, but careful with his words he's a tough nut to crack.

Occupation: Former Bounty Hunter

Background: Born on Earth, Mel is a fourth generation bounty hunter. Childless, and now alone (after his fourth divorce), Mel just wants to live out the rest of his days at the bottom of a bottle.

Weapons/Abilities/Powers (if applicable):
  • Sharpshooter: He's got guns and knows how to use them.
  • Pilot: Got ship? Will travel.
  • Thick-skinned: Bio-upgrade. He can still be injured, but not as easily. Think of it as a last line of defense if any armor fails. In his line of work, death comes to the ill-prepared.

World/Culture (optional): Originally hailing from Earth, Mel has made his home on one of the many outposts in the Andromeda Galaxy. He thrives in the seedy underbelly of society and can often be found lounging around in his favorite dive.

Introduction post (optional):

The din of the crowd roared in his ears. A couple of burly Crebs had decided to cause a ruckus, but it was to be expected. Lorkpar's often attracted the rougher crowds, after all. Mel rolled his head back and forth, stretching out some of the tension and waved for another refill. He'd lost track of how long he'd been there, a few hours at least...

"You sure you're up for another?" Lorkpar raised what should have been an eyebrow, but on his smooth browless, jade green face it was a second row of lashes.

"I don't pay you to judge my choices, man. Just keep 'em comin'." Mel's voice was gruff, low, and deep, but the smile that pulled up the corners of his mouth reached all the way to his eyes. There wasn't many creatures in the universe he'd consider his friend, but Lorkpar was definitely one of them.

A crash sounded from the back of the room and Lorkpar growled, setting the bottle in front of Mel and grabbing a shock stick from underneath the bar. "Help yourself," he grumbled as he went to take care of the problem.

With a shrug, Mel grabbed the bottle and filled the glass, ignoring the bar owner's usual two-finger rule. As he set the bottle back on the bar he was suddenly aware of another patron sitting way to close for his comfort. Raising an eyebrow and swiveling in his seat, his jaw dropped. Ex-wife number two had cozied right on up to him.

"You know," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "One of the reasons I stick to places like this is so I don't chance running into the likes of people like you."
 
Mel[eraine] Valdis

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Age: She was born in the 1015th year of the Age of Beauty (which lasted 1203 years). It is now the 303rd year after the Fall. Therefore she is 491 years old.

Gender: Female

Genre: Fantasy

Personality: Some would call her imperious and haughty. They would not be wrong. She consorts with the likes of dragons and is the daughter of the great High King Catigern. Mere mortals are beneath her notice. Though one wonders if even the greatest of the Powers can impress her.

She is, at her heart, an artist. She has never forged a weapon. Even the weight of a dragon's commands could never faze her. Rather she forges beautiful things. Vain things. Just to show the world her brilliance.

She does not forgive or forget grudges. Even now, the Horned King of the Verali Dominion and all his subjects are barred from intruding on her mountain. The one being she suffers is her father. Barring him, she will brook no insolence directed at her. Even mighty emperors have been punished for provoking her wrath.

Occupation: A songsmith. She works metal much like any other blacksmith but uses the Voice to forge and imbue a magical nature into her creations.

Background: "The great songsmith, Meleraine Valdis, was born under the name of Nimue sil'Kearney. Her father was the High King of Irïa, the man who is now known as Catigern the Great. Catigern was himself famous for his creations, the greatest of them being Ismeria, the sword that could cut even magic.

Nimue was born with an even greater talent for crafting than her father. Nimue's Ring, the Third Seal of Catigern and Ayr and the Great Horn of the Host were all of her making. But by far the greatest of all her work is the Rose of Thelé.

It was what she presented to the great dragon, Thelé, as a courtship gift. A simple white rose, transformed by her so that it would remain eternally fresh and fragrant, and so that it was indestructible, even by the strength of a dragon.

Thelé was a dragon of black scales and immense size, who could, like all dragons, change shape and walk among men. Indeed the courtship of Meleraine and Thelé is a great tale.

[One of shapes Thelé likes to take. His whims change much and thus his appearance changes much as well]
[Source: gerwell.tumblr.com]

After the shattering of Irïa and the apparent death of her father, Nimue sil'Kearney cast aside her royal heritage and took on the name of Meleraine Valdis. The High King Catigern's body had been entombed under the Varia mountains from whence, it was said in legend, that he had first emerged. Meleraine travelled there and made the mountains her solitary abode. She established a forge there. None knew where she had gone. In her grief, she had no wish to speak anything. So, for a century or more no words or song were heard from the lips of Meleraine.

Then a strange visitor came. Thelé, a black dragon. Unbeknownst to Meleraine, an emanation of power had slowly been rising from the mountains. Meleraine, who had abided there for a century, had not noticed its slow but steady increasing. The dragon, however, had noticed it and had come to see what manner of being might be able to challenge his sovereignty over the skies of the Varia.

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[The great black dragon looming over Meleraine]


It was there that he found the songsmith and broke her solitude. His presence did not faze Meleraine. After a century of silence, she spoke, and she spoke with the Voice. Aᴠᴀᴜɴᴛ, Dʀᴀɢᴏɴ. Tʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴏᴍᴀɪɴ.

The dragon was wonderstruck by her power and command. He questioned her on her presence in the mountains. Meleraine did not deign to reply. She merely repeated that he was to leave her presence. Thelé left. In the coming years, he would break her solitude again many times.

It was hard for Thelé to forget a woman such as Meleraine. There was none other that comparable to her. Her might was unquestionable. Her lineage and blood were the noblest that existed. Most of all, her pride was like a dragon's, ancient and terrible.

Yet she, on the other hand, disdained the dragon. Or rather her disdain was universal and existed for dragons and men alike.

After a time, Thelé discovered that when she began to craft something new, she would often vanish into her forge for days or even weeks, taking no sustenance or sleep. Such work required her full concentration and time and she could not spare either, even to sustain herself. The momentum needed to be maintained or it was all for nothing.

So it was that Thelé came to hunt and prepare food for her. She ignored him at first but thought shrewdly and realised that he could be helpful. The dragon became more than helpful to her. He became invaluable to her.

With him providing his most valuable services, she was free to focus on her work and passion and devote more time and strength to her craft. Indeed her craft was now far easier for the use of his dragonflames, fire greater than any she was able to ignite previously. And perhaps most importantly, she found that she appreciated the company of someone who was intelligent and knowledgeable. For indeed dragons were long-lived creatures and knew many things.

The Rose of Thelé as we call it now was Meleraine's first courtship gift to her sole companion. The courtship of such ancient and long-lived beings take decades to centuries to come to fruition. Thelé finally became Meleraine's consort but five years ago. I admit I am very pleased. They are a fine couple.

One more thing. The emanation of power I mentioned. It kept increasing until it became so great that Thelé found that even his own power could not match it. Meleraine and he were very alarmed until it was discovered that it came from the tomb of Catigern. When the tomb was opened, it was found that Catigern was alive. These centuries, his vast might and power had been slowly restoring itself and healing his body. In fact fifty years ago, he awoke.

He has taken on another name and title now. Adaon ril'Morgerard, the Lord of the North Wind.

I see your surprise. Yes, I am indeed he, and Nimue, now Meleraine, is indeed my daughter. In truth, the name my mother gave me is Adaon ril'Morgerard, and the title my father bestowed on me is the Lord of the North Wind. Catigern the Great is a name I acquired only after the Shattering. Before the Shattering, all knew me not as Catigern, but as Cadeyrn sil'Kearney."

Weapons/Abilities/Powers (if applicable): First and foremost, Meleraine is not a normal human. She is an Aeren, just as her father is. Therefore Meleraine can sacrifice her need of food, water and sleep, if she so wishes, at the cost of acquiring severe frailty eventually if she goes too long without. Even Aeren have a limit.

Meleraine's power manifests foremostly as the Voice. She uses this to influence the minds of all who can hear her and a forceful Command can make even a dragon pause. Mainly, though, she uses this to disregard the limits that bind most other smiths and make wondrous things.

Apart from that, her physical capabilities are beyond the normal limits of a human. She can withstand severe heat and thus forge things from dragonflame, whereas a normal human would simply just melt when going close. She has the strength and endurance of perhaps twenty men and thus she can forge materials that are too hard for normal smiths and keep forging and singing for weeks on end.

World/Culture: Sar Enaer. It means either the Second Abode or the Lesser Abode. It is difficult to pin down the exact translation. It is what I call my fictional fantasy world though, if I were to be precise, then I would admit that there are more Abodes in that world.

Introduction post: [You know, I was going to do this, but I've been working on this since the evening and it's almost one after midnight now. If I start this, I'll probably end up having stayed up till dawn.]​
 
This is the sort of character I create a lot. But not for RP purposes. Or rather, they're never the main protagonist. They're just well-developed NPCs. They've already had their share of adventure, they've already levelled to the max and optimised their build and all that. Most of the time, I keep these on a backlog for when I'm actually writing stories.
 
Mel Valdis

Appearance: This older woman has greying hair dyed black, though her roots still show. Her diamond-shaped face is lined and weary-looking. Her nose is bent subtly from a break during her time as a cop. Her body is littered in scars, and she wears sturdy clothes in a businesslike style.
Age: 64 years.
Gender: Female.
Genre: Post-Apoc Noir.
Personality: A quiet and thoughtful woman. Mel has low tolerance for formalities, but she does pay attention to rank and can play nice well enough when it's needed. She has a soft spot for cats and cute waiters, but an allergy to cats makes her miserable around the former: itchy eyes, runny nose, and watery eyes most often.
Occupation: Private detective. Retired cop.
Background: Once upon a time, Mel was an optimstic little thing. She went to cop school right out of high school and become a member of the local police force quickly after she graduated. While her performance was adequate, she was often overlooked for promotions. She eventually discovered the problems with the system and sought to make it 'right'. Her efforts failed when her persistence turned from 'cute' to 'dangerous' to her superiors. She was shunted to somewhere she'd be less useful, and eventually assigned to patrolling several bad parts of the city.

Fortunately for her, she saved made friends with the locals and gained a reputation for helping even those that spat on her. While this didn't save her from difficulty in her position, it kept her from becoming a planned target to local criminals.

She eventually retired after serving for twenty-five years, but grew bored and began taking jobs in security and occasionally investigation. Over the next decade, her work gravitated further towards investigation than security as people began to want someone younger-looking to protect their assets.
Weapons: Her gun and her wits. She'd list her wiles, but she's not that cocky.
Powers: While not a true power, Mel's cell phone and little black book have contact information for just about anything a person could need.
Abilities: Mel can use two spells that require materials and a verbal component: bloodhound (locate a person or object within a mile, but only their location at the time of casting) and tourniquet (can stop bleeding or set a bone with binding effect that lasts thirty seconds).
Setting: A ruined scifi-like city that's bisected by the edge of the world.
Culture: American-like city with a high Spanish-speaking population in addition to the English-speaking. Laws are 'bullshit' and enforcement is minimal. Crime lords and gangs rule the city in place of the police, who are 'fat on criminal bribes'.
Intro Post:

"Mel? Still alive over there?" the voice crackled from her radio, but the woman on whose belt it was attached didn't stir.

"Mel?"

The questioning voice went ignored as its intended recipient struggled to move even a singular muscle in her face. Ears rang and she had to force each breath from within the ballistics vest that undoubtedly preserved her life. Her helmet and visor prevented worse damage to her face and head. Some shrapnel in her flesh wasn't as bad as having no head.

Her legs refused to move. She couldn't even feel them, nor lift her head to try and see if she still had them.

The dust cleared slowly, and sun warmed her. How strange, she thought, that nobody came to see what happened. Her eyes began to ease shut.

Water slapped against her face and chest, and she gasped. Her eyes opened, and she tried to lift her arms, only to find them unmoving. Ropes dug in.

She lifted her head as she noticed a pair of suit pants and gleaming black shoes before her. The man who stood in front of her appeared alone, but she knew him better than that—he had his men waiting for a dramatic entrance.

"Mr. Clark," she greeted curtly.

"Hello, Melanie." 'Clark' adjusted his tie and leaned back on the corner of his desk. "I've been looking forward to seeing you again after our last meeting. We parted so unpleasantly—the names you called me, Melanie. They were very hurtful."

"Terribly sorry. The murder attempt soured my mood."

"What's a few shots fired between friends?"

Melanie's eyes rolled skyward as she groaned. She just hoped her 'understudy' remembered where to go if she went MIA.
 

Mel Valdis

Appearance (description/picture):
tumblr_onfz69f7Om1w308hvo4_400.jpg


Age: 25

Gender: Female

Genre: Late 80's / Early 90's, Retro-Modern

Personality: Mel Valdis is a bright, young girl who constantly makes bad decisions. She is book and street smart. Has a temper like a strom. The girl is very out-going, but tends to bring trouble everywhere she goes. Mel is more of a rebel. She disobey anyone that dare tell her to do something. Breaks rules and other "rebel" stuffs. Despite the "bad" nature, Mel can be friendly whenever she wants to be.

Occupation: Waitress at a old, 50-vintage diner.

Background: When Mel was a child, she never rebel against her parents. Her parents always make sure she follows on the rules and not disobey them. They want to bring out the best of her, but what they got was the worst of her. At years passed, Mel was getting tired of following rules and obeying them. She was tired of being told how to act like a lady. In her teenage years, she went to what her parents called a "phase". The rebeling and such. They were horrified to find out that their daughter was smoking cigs and drinking. What shock them the most was when she came out as a lesbian. That's where her parents disowned her, telling her she is worth of nothing. Mel didn't care. After that, she dropped out of high school at the age 17, work at a diner and lives with her girlfriend, who is still going to school. Mel does some drugs and drinks, just not around her girlfriend.

Weapons/Abilities/Powers (if applicable): N / A

World/Culture (optional): On the coast of San Francisco, California is where she lives with her girlfriend. Coming from a American family lifestyle that didn't work out for her. Her girlfriend is three years younger than her.

Introduction post (optional):

"Baby, c'mon, it's just a one time thing." Mel whined to her girlfriend. Loira chuckled at the older woman's behavior. She was very adorable acting like a child. Today was Valentine's Day and Mel decided to take her girlfriend to the Music Festival that was taking place in one of San Francisco. Loira didn't wanted to go because there would be different crowds of people there and she wasn't a big fan of crowding palces. Mel, on the other hand, wants to go to the festival to celebrate the day with her girlfriend. She spent the last two months working her ass off to buy those tickets. And, damnit, her girlfriend was going to come.

Mel gave the young female a pout, looking like a kicked puppy. She knew Loira won't say no to her "puppy eyes". Loira sighed softly before giving in, hearing a small, victorious "yes" from Mel.

After an hour or so, the girls arrived at the festival. Mel was wearing a black tank top with ripped jeans and her demin jacket, as well as her black boots. Loirs wore a sunmer dress, the color being a mix of yellow, orange, and pink. She wore her low-heeled shoes and her hair combed straight.

There were many people in the festival. Obviously there are also different genre of music that would play in less than an hour.

"C'mon, babe! Let's sit over here!" Mel shouted, dragging the girl to a open spot in the grass. Loira let out a soft laugh as they settled down on the ground. They brought a pinic basket with them, prepared everything they need for today's Valentine's Day. Who knows, maybe Mel would be lucky enough to get a reward if Loira enjoy today's Valentine.

(I tried lololol)