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Futuristic C⌬RE Character Sheets

Moolock

Elder Member


※※ Instructions: Fill the sheet out as your character would respond to this encounter. ※※
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The street you walk is dim and dusty, sunlight highlighting the grit as it drifts downward. You come across an old man on a small flight of steps going up to the Sticks. His eyes follow you, though they see nothing. His smile is wrinkled and kind. He waves you over. You walk to him- you have nowhere to be right now. He moves over for you to have a seat.

“Thank ya fer joinin’ me, young, er-”

[Gender]

“-not many bother ta stay fer a little chat. I want ta remember ya. What’s yer name?”

[Name]

“Pleasure. ‘M Archy, no mister ‘r nothin’.” He taps the side of his head. “Good name ya’ve got. Let’s make ‘t inta a story, ah? Story about you. Name needs a face. Tell me about yers.”

[Appearance: can be photo or text description or both. Please no anime. Realistic or semi-realistic. Keep in mind the race descriptions]

“Ah… can almost picture ‘t as if I’ve still got eyes.” The old man wheezes in laughter at that. “Anyway so, yer story. Let’s start with the basics, eh? Age, where yer from, whatcha do- go on, talk my ear off, I’ve got time.”

[Age]
[Birthplace/Residence (See Learn the Lingo, Learn the Land for race descriptions. The map will be provided in the locations tab)]
[Occupation if your character has one]

“Oooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere. What about the person doin’ all this?”

[Alignment]
[Personality]

“Depth, yes.” He holds up a finger, eyeing you seriously- again, odd as his eyes are milky white. “Essential in any sort of character. So, what’s yer life like? How’s ‘t treatin’ ya?”

[Strengths/Skills (3)]
[Weaknesses (3)]
[Backstory: The more detailed the better.- that doesn't mean every day of their lives, but we want this to feel like an actual person.]
[Fears (3)]

“Well well well,” the old man grins- he’s missing plenty teeth- and leans against the stair railing. “Gimme a moment ta think.”

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Links:
Main RP: https://www.rpnation.com/threads/c⌬re.348667/
Lore & Rules: https://www.rpnation.com/threads/c⌬re-lore.348671/
 


“Thank ya fer joinin’ me, young, er-”

"Lady..."

“-not many bother ta stay fer a little chat. I want ta remember ya. What’s yer name?”

"Caera. Caera Esrani"
Pronounced Care-ah Es-rah-nee


“Pleasure. ‘M Archy, no mister ‘r nothin’.” He taps the side of his head. “Good name ya’ve got. Let’s make ‘t inta a story, ah? Story about you. Name needs a face. Tell me about yers.”

The young woman would find a spot to stand near the old man, no doubt he would have quite a lot of questions ahead. "Alright, if you insist...Tall, around five feet and seven inches tall. Thick frame and a fair amount of muscle. Fair skin like most Brigs. Short reddish-brown hair and green eyes. Face has partial masculine features like a defined jawline but still holds feminine features – thick lips, almond-shaped eyes, defined cheekbones, and a slightly upturned nose. Head is mostly shaved down except the top which is spiky and rarely gets in my eyes. Is that good enough for ya?"
  • CHmZk_fWwAAFUkM.jpg:large

“Ah… can almost picture ‘t as if I’ve still got eyes.” The old man wheezes in laughter at that. “Anyway so, yer story. Let’s start with the basics, eh? Age, where yer from, whatcha do- go on, talk my ear off, I’ve got time.”

"I'm twenty-two years old, lived in the snow for most of my life...born and raised in Frostwood. I came to Central out of curiosity and to seek a better job than the one I had back home. My family owns a lumber mill, providing Central with some lumber. It's hard work and the credits are decent but I want my family to live comfortably so I left for Central to find a better job."

“Oooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere. What about the person doin’ all this?”

"I don't really care about the Link or the politics of Central. I try to avoid Ravens when I can...too shady and uptight for me. I'm loyal to friends and family, a hard worker, and most importantly: I don't give up easily – for better or worse.

“Depth, yes.” He holds up a finger, eyeing you seriously- again, odd as his eyes are milky white. “Essential in any sort of character. So, what’s yer life like? How’s ‘t treatin’ ya?”

"Life has been fair...I can't really complain. I've learned how to haul a good amount of weight as well as swing an axe thanks to workin' at home. My dad used to take me with him when he delivered the lumber sometimes, got to see him work with merchants and get some good bartering in – though I'll never be as good as my dad." The woman would draw a deep breath before continuing, "But...I share a few qualities with my pa like his temper and his...weakness for alcohol." the young woman would chuckle slightly, obviously uncomfortable...but the man did ask to talk about herself. "I'm not well-versed in the technology in Central...I feel like I've been living under a rock most my life." now she was getting into the very personal stuff, her deepest fears. "I...often think about what would happen if I lose my family...I don't know why but it's just something I think about. Me being here in Central and...something happens to my family while I'm here...totally oblivious to their fates." Caera would shift her stance, obviously uncomfortable with sharing these secrets with this total stranger but nonetheless she continued. "As of late...I've been thinking about how dangerous it is in the old city is...even more so, I have wondered how dangerous it is in Central...Will I be welcomed? Turned away? Chased out of the city?" Caera

“Well well well,” the old man grins- he’s missing plenty teeth- and leans against the stair railing. “Gimme a moment ta think.”

 
Malice Queen Malice Queen : Accepted

“Mind’s made up. ‘ve got somethin’ for you.” He reaches for your hand, slips his around yours, and you feel a weight drop into your palm. As his hands fall away, you see you’re holding a small green stone, oddly cut- jagged, squared off in some places, utterly smooth in others- set on a little pendant. There is no chain. “There… that’s fer you. ‘Ve held it long enough an’ you seem like an alright person, despite yer says an’ pains. Take it ta Ide.” You know where Ide is, even if you’ve never been there. It’s known for holding Core’s largest printed library. There have been protests there recently- the government wants to tear the building down to make way for a housing construct. “...Thank ya fer the story, stranger. ‘M trustin’ ya… I mean, ya can rat me out ‘f you want, but ‘m old… ‘d probably be dead before they can finish the paper ta get me ta prison.” He chuckles, voice crackling like a paper bag as he gets to his feet, leaning heavily on the railing. He turns back to you and flashes a mostly toothless smile. “See ya aroun’.”

You get up, put the pendant where you wish, and leave. If you look back, you do not see the old man. There are no doorways to duck into or alleys shooting off. You heard no door open or close. He did not pass you but he is not further down the road.

583d8c0fcc57e936b0a3257f2f3bf52d__1__by_drawing_moo-dbgu6zy.jpg
 
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“Thank ya fer joinin’ me, young, er-”

"Man. I am clearly a man, but alas, continue."

“-not many bother ta stay fer a little chat. I want ta remember ya. What’s yer name?”

"You can call me Cajatin Endersøn, or Caj for short.

“Pleasure. ‘M Archy, no mister ‘r nothin’.” He taps the side of his head. “Good name ya’ve got. Let’s make ‘t inta a story, ah? Story about you. Name needs a face. Tell me about yers.”

"You must have a tough time without your eyes, my good friend. My face is rather worn, if I might say so myself. I'm young, but half of my face was burned in a rather terrible accident when I was a young boy. Thus, the right side of my face is wrinkled and full of scar tissue. My hair is black, short, just past my ears. I'm white, rather pale actually. I'm afraid that the winter is long where I am from, if I were to be honest. I look very similar to someone very familiar in the modern realm. As my creator above would describe me as looking, he would suggest I am comparable to a collegiate Gordon Hayward, but with a massive scar on his face.

“Ah… can almost picture ‘t as if I’ve still got eyes.” The old man wheezes in laughter at that. “Anyway so, yer story. Let’s start with the basics, eh? Age, where yer from, whatcha do- go on, talk my ear off, I’ve got time.”

"I am 24, hailing from Frostwood. It is not the best place to live, for the winters are harsh to all that call it home. The roads typically receive the worse treatment. I've heard many stories of the crews trying to build roads to the North, only to fail due to the frost, the winds, the snow, or death. Now, as to why I am in Central, I recently grew tired of the North, and sought to found a better life. I was studying in the capital for an education, which may be considered most unusual for people such as myself. But alas, I am unemployed at this age. I sought to be an official records keeper, before I lost my calling to it."

“Oooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere. What about the person doin’ all this?”

"Does it really matter, my good sir? It doesn't matter how I view myself, but how others view me. Given how I left in search of learning, I think that makes me selfish, but driven. I had a younger sibling growing up that I tormented, so that makes me terrible, but perhaps just. When it comes to the state of this land, where I align vests in the logic. I shall not support one side, but it is the ideas I adhere to, if that makes sense. If one side is able to win me over with logic, I shall join their cause."

“Depth, yes.” He holds up a finger, eyeing you seriously- again, odd as his eyes are milky white. “Essential in any sort of character. So, what’s yer life like? How’s ‘t treatin’ ya?”

"My life, as of right now, is better than it once was. I grew up one of two children on an abandoned farm. nothing grows up here anyways, but we sold ice to those in the South, a precious commodity for the posh. My younger brother, Brahm, grew up with me. He still lives back home, and should be around 15 now. He annoyed me as a child, honestly. My mother died in childbirth, but my father works long and hard as an iceman. He was successful enough to send me away, since I was never strong enough to be like him. I was the more intellectual type. I spent some years to be educated, and I still am completing it all. It's funny, because as I have a great capacity for learning, and have a penchant for arguing, I have very little physical strength. But I guess my new skill of woodworking can perhaps get me over that. I overcame my fear of knives with that regard, even if I still have fears of heights, the deep, and the unknown."

Caj stopped his speech suddenly, as if there was more to be expected.

"I'm sorry, that was rather a lot for you to take in. I'm afraid I have spoken your ears off."

“Well well well,” the old man grins- he’s missing plenty teeth- and leans against the stair railing. “Gimme a moment ta think.”
 
Malice Queen Malice Queen : Accepted

“Mind’s made up. ‘ve got somethin’ for you.” He reaches for your hand, slips his around yours, and you feel a weight drop into your palm. As his hands fall away, you see you’re holding a small green stone, oddly cut- jagged, squared off in some places, utterly smooth in others- set on a little pendant. There is no chain. “There… that’s fer you. ‘Ve held it long enough an’ you seem like an alright person, despite yer says an’ pains. Take it ta Ide.” You know where Ide is, even if you’ve never been there. It’s known for holding Core’s largest printed library. There have been protests there recently- the government wants to tear the building down to make way for a housing construct. “...Thank ya fer the story, stranger. ‘M trustin’ ya… I mean, ya can rat me out ‘f you want, but ‘m old… ‘d probably be dead before they can finish the paper ta get me ta prison.” He chuckles, voice crackling like a paper bag as he gets to his feet, leaning heavily on the railing. He turns back to you and flashes a mostly toothless smile. “See ya aroun’.”

You get up, put the pendant where you wish, and leave. If you look back, you do not see the old man. There are no doorways to duck into or alleys shooting off. You heard no door open or close. He did not pass you but he is not further down the road.

583d8c0fcc57e936b0a3257f2f3bf52d__1__by_drawing_moo-dbgu6zy.jpg
 

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