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Realistic or Modern Dreams of Eden (Character sheets)

Hawke.

Hawke.

Member
On may 1st 1850 Mister Thomas Eckles hereby agrees to furnish good strong wagons and at least three yoke of oxen or horses to each, in order to travel from Independence Missouri, across the plains of Nebraska, first stopping in Fort Kearny just across the river Platte, through Wyoming, across the mountains of Idaho, into Oregon. Mister Eckles will also provide rations in the form of meal, hominy, salt and pepper, bacon, beans, sugar, and flours so that each man may have three pounds of provisions. Each man shall supply his own bag for his linens, plates and utensils, as well as a firearm, ammunition, and powder, as well as whatever else is needed for his family. Mister Eckles will have the privilege of leading the train and shall be required to stop for rest at least once in a week. The trip shall take no longer than six months

this might get pretty rough, but we still need to stay within guidelines. Ignorant characters are allowed to be ignorant within reason, but that will have consequences, we won’t allow slurs, and it isn’t welcome within OOC spaces. Assault may be implied but never explicit, and if it’s going to happen between two player characters it must be discussed beforehand, though it’s better if it didn’t happen at all.
Character conflicts are welcome and even encouraged!, but keep it out of ooc, you’re allowed to question the wagon leader! If your character thinks it’d be better to cross the River somewhere safer suggest it! That doesn’t mean that he’ll listen every time.
Your actions will have consequences! ​
Sleipnir said:
You know I’d be here as an aforementioned Co Author!

Additional info:

The vibe we're going for with this roleplay idea is that we'd like to capture the turmoil and hardships of the western life as a caravan attempts to travel northwest. The expected trajectory of the trip will be to head up the Oregon Trail in a normal route, with descriptions of landscape, weather, and locations provided along the way (to avoid giving players homework! You don't need to know what it looks like on the trail. Believe me, I'll look forward to describing the American west for you -- I love nothing more than I love the landscapes of the west). The three co-authors expect to take up the burden of a "game master" role; that is, controlling the environment and the potential results of actions characters take. Consequences are expected -- everything from what paths we choose to take to what food sources we choose to use. With that being said, the Oregon Trail is expected, but the characters can choose to take a different path if they want.

We hope to gather a number of characters to fulfill a variety of important roles in the caravan -- everything from hunters to cowboys to cooks to body guards and more. Anyone who might be interested in going west. A wide variety of skills are needed to survive a trip like that, and we'd like to see characters to fill those roles and make decisions to impact the trajectory of the story being told. Ultimately, we'd like to allow the players to have their characters collaborate however they like for things like when to stop and camp, whether or not to take certain paths, and whether to fight or run or visit trading posts. Some direction will be given, but ultimately, players will determine what happens next with their actions.

Multiple characters can definitely overlap! One cowboy can't take care of a herd of cattle, one cook handling a whole caravan would be a hard job, and one scout or tracker would have a whole lot of ground to cover. This could also be played for fun character interaction, collaboration, and possibly, conflict! We look forward to seeing characters developing around one another, forming bonds (and potentially rivalries or enemies), and figuring out how to survive the journey together. For important jobs that don't necessarily end up filled, NPCs can be provided.

As mentioned before, being a game about an expedition west, we can expect this to get pretty gnarly at times. River crossings are dangerous and bandits are a real thing to fear. Animals can be problematic, sickness and infection is a threat, and ultimately, things will be grungy and not altogether soft. That being the case, we'll want to make sure we're communicating and making sure we don't accidentally get into territory that upsets anyone too much, so that'll certainly be a discussion we'll have. Also, in the interest of communication, character death is totally optional! People die, but you don't have to be okay with your character(s) dying if you don't want them to, and if you don't want them to, they won't.


Name: Judas “Kid” Cloud

Age: between 23 and 24

Description or image: Small of stature, Judas Cloud has freckles, tan skin, light brown eyes, and wavy, thick shoulder-length red-brown hair. He has sharp cheekbones and a narrow, aliquine nose. He only comes in around 5’4”, and couldn’t possibly weigh more than 100lb soaking wet— and more than a rudimentary glance at his frame in jeans and a loose button-up would explain why.

Judas doesn’t hide his identity well, and solely by virtue of not caring to: He can typically be found in a button-up covered by a dark red vest, loose jeans, a blue bandana, and a gun belt, all of which do him the favor of hiding his feminine frame. Even so, in camp or in the water — any time he may shed the vest — he can’t be bothered to hide his birth gender, and in fact can’t even be bothered to button his shirts all the way. He seems not to care enough to correct one who might refer to him as ‘little lady’ or ‘she,’ either. He took the name Judas all the same, and will refer to himself in the masculine— but when asked, seems to not be entirely clear on what he feels himself to be. Perhaps both, perhaps neither.


Background: Born and raised under cottonwood trees on thin soil, Judas Cloud was bred into a hard southwestern life. He keeps the exact circumstances of his early life close to his chest, but what is certain is that his birth name was certainly not Judas Cloud— and he doesn’t hide that fact, but won’t explain who he was before.

He made a name for himself after leaving home as a mustanger, Cowboy, and— most prominently— an outlaw. He was first spotted among the Paiute and occasionally other groups of indigenous folk before striking off on his own, a capable horseman with a penchant for trouble. Never one to sit still, Cloud left his original home to strike out in New Mexico, Arizona, and the northern territories, catching and selling horses and cattle.

He’s a boy easily persuaded to participate in one escapade or another and a sort who likes hoarding money. Between that and his familiarity with native languages, Cloud wasn’t a hard sell on traveling with a wagon train.

Skills: Horsemanship, shooting, cow punching, and plains sign language

Other:

Roleplay sample:
A high-pitched howl of elation bounced off the peach-orange cliffs. A stray raven took flight from the cottonwood trees where, down below, a horse raced by on the sand in a flash of grey. A second bay flash followed right at the first horse’s hip, but by then, the match was already won.

There was a second loud hoot as the grullo’s rider wheeled his horse around with a broad grin. The second rider— a young man with a narrow face and indigenous features— came up behind him with an amused grin. The brown-haired boy on his grullo shook his head with a crooked smile. Then he lifted his hands and began signing, speaking as he did. “You knew… from the start that I was going to win,” Judas told him.

The boy beside him just shook his head, no less amused. Then he signed back, speaking in his own language— not Paiute, but familiar enough that Judas thought he’d get the hang of it before they parted ways. ‘I knew that starting out, yes,’ he signed back. He never took his eyes off Judas. ‘I figured you would win. You can name your prize.’

Judas cocked his head back and smiled at him, holding his gaze for a few long moments as he thought about it. Any prize, he supposed. He hummed and leaned back in the saddle for a few long moments, then just lifted his hands again. Then, again, he paused.

He turned back to his friend. “Well…” then he started signing again. “I think… all I want… is to keep you here, for the afternoon. Stay here… just for a few hours with me.” He stopped and looked back at him, chin tilted down, to watch his expression carefully. The other young man cocked his head back with an interested grin of his own. Then, slowly, Judas started signing again. “…unless you’d rather shoot me.”

That earned him a laugh, and he shook his head. Then he started to sign back. ‘I’ll stay here this afternoon,’ he replied. ‘But not because you won. Your wagon trail will leave in the morning, and I’ll not waste the time.’

Judas just glanced past him and nodded, then pulled his horse a little closer. “I appreciate that.”
Click to expand...
Wagon leader; Thomas Eckles (Hel)
Cowhands; Judas Cloud (Sleipnir)
Cooks; Zhong Lian (Hel)
Scouts; Reid Atwater (Hawke)

If a role you’d like isn’t on here feel free to ask in the “other” section for it when you’re filling out your CS! There can always be multiples.
Character limit is up to you, but don’t take on more than you can handle!

Character sheet:
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Description OR image:
Background:
Skills:
Rp sample: (spoiler please)
Other:
​

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  • Reid Atwater
    Scout
    Alias
    None
    Age
    26 years old
    Gender
    Male
    Race
    Mixed
    Height
    6' 1"
    Weight
    200 lbs
    Contributions
    Scouting, Hunting, Tracking, Minor first aid
    Homestate
    Kentucky

All Images in Public Domain

BBCode Template by: Ambiloquous
 
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Name: Katie Holmes-Eckles
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Description OR image: Katie is a tall woman, standing at 5'7". She maintains a healthy 165 lbs, and favors green dresses. her hair is a light blonde, and the curls combined with her skin tone betray her mixed race heritage to most who pay attention. She

Background: Katie was born and raised in St. Louis by her white father after her black mother died in childbirth. The exact circumstances of her parent's relationship was never made clear to her, and she never cared to ask. Katie was raised as his only child for the most formative years of her life. Eventually, however, his father married a woman who had children of her own. Her stepmother was never too fond of the half-black child that her husband insisted on raising but would put up with it until she caught Katie with her soon-to-be sister-in-law the night before Katie's brother was to marry her. After that, a husband was found for her, and that is how she met Thomas. Now she's convinced the man a trip west would be a good idea. After all, she's heard an average of 15% of the travelers don't survive the trek...

Skills: She's a savvy woman who's gotten significantly more of an education than most would have permitted her. Stoking community and manipulating her husband rank high, but her most useful skill is her ability to learn.

Other: Katie is just as likely to have been the one who hired your character as Thomas is! If your character joined as a hired hand and not as one who paid to take the trek you're free to decide which of the couple actually sought your character out to hire!


The sun was long gone from the sky by the time that Katie and Thomas returned from the family Christmas celebrations that they had been required by society to attend. As they entered, the pair was quiet. Much of their time together was characterized by an uncomfortable silence. Both had been assured that it would get better as they grew more comfortable in their marriage, but Katie knew that could never be. Thomas, though, still held hope for a happy marriage.

"I got a gift for you, too, darling."

Katie glanced at her husband as he broke the silence, an eyebrow raised in a expression that asked him to say more, but no words crossed her lips. Thomas hung his hat and his coat as he continued.

"It is Christmas, after all, and I would be quite a poor husband if I got our families gifts and nothing for my own wife. I know how you've been wanting to leave St. Louis, and I think you're right, it is time." Thomas said, as he reached into his vest pocket and pulled a crisply folded page. He offered it to Katie, who took it. As she opened the page, she saw a printed flier: an advertisement for a wagon train. She could not hide the small smile that pulled at her lips as she glanced it over and looked to her husband. Just as she looked away from the flier, however, she caught a detail she hadn't noticed at first.

"We'll be providing the carts and provisions?" Katie asked,

"And horses, or oxen. Yes." Thomas answered, a wide grin across his face, "I'll be leading the expedition, I've gotten a start on all of the research from those who went before, I hope to leave from Independence, where we'll all gather, in May."

"I hadn't thought you'd want to lead the journey yourself," Katie said, hiding her worry behind a curiosity in her voice.

"Why not? I may as well lead. It shall be another notch in my adventuring belt, so to speak. I've done the research, we've the money to hire what is needed and those who join will pay a fee to ease the cost. The route is laid out clearly in the guidebooks. So long as we make good time through the plains and get to Oregon by winter, it should be quite the fun adventure!" Thomas laughed a moment, then gathered Katie's hands in his. "Besides, I've heard nothing makes a couple stronger than facing adversity together, this shall be a trial and an adventure we will always share, an achievement in endurance and a testimate to the strength of our bond."

Katie smiled at her husband, foolish and idealistic as he was. "A trial and adventure, indeed." She said, allowing him to kiss her cheek. "Thank you, Thomas."
 
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  • Thomas Eckles
    Wagon Train Leader
    Alias
    None
    Age
    29 years old
    Gender
    Male
    Race
    White (English Decent)
    Height
    5' 6"
    Weight
    180 lbs
    Contributions
    Wealth, supplies, conflict resolution
    Hometown
    St. Louis, Missouri

All Images in Public Domain

BBCode Template by: Ambiloquous
 
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Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy. - W.B. Yeates
Click to expand...

Name:
Mícheál Ó'Máille [Mee-hall O Mall-Yeh] / Goes by: Michael O'Malley

Age:
28

Gender:
Male

Description OR image:
character1.png

Background:
Mícheál, or Michael as he goes by was born in the rural West coast of Ireland. His family, devastated by the poverty inflicted on his people by the British government, had little to no quality of life. As the eldest of 7 children he took it upon himself to ease the burden of his parents and left to find steady pay he could send back home. Like many of his compatriots he begrudgingly signed on to join the British Army, his oppressor, but also his only option for a livelihood.

Michael was assigned to the 88th Regiment of Foot, the Connacht Rangers, or as it was commonly known “The Devils Own”. His service took him around the world, to Malta, the East Indies and finally to Nova Scotia in late 1849.

1850 was to be a pivotal year in his life, and the life of the regiment. An Gorta Mór, the great hunger, a devastating famine in Ireland was in full swing. It was then he learned, while in Nova Scotia that his family had been evicted from their family home. His father, and two younger brothers were killed. Later, his mother, and sisters would all succumb to starvation.

Michael’s guilt consumed him, serving the very people that had murdered his family. However he was not alone. Tensions began to rise considerably in the regiment, a regiment made up of men entirely from the West coast of Ireland, the hardest hit place on the island. Those tensions reached a critical flash point one night after 6 men were flogged for sedition. Four companies mutinied, taking with them large quantities of equipment and horses, riding into the dark Nova Scotia night never to look back. All would become outlaws, treasonous criminals. None would ever be able to return home.

Unfortunately for Michael and the men who left with him, would arrive into an America that despised him for being Irish.

More backstory here

Skills:
  • Sharpshooter and scout in the British army
  • Bi-lingual Irish and English: "Tír gan teanga, Tír gan anam"
  • Passable hunting skills as a backup hunter.

Michael’s horse slowly trotted into the town of Independence, Missouri. He had been travelling for five weeks from the cold, icy reaches of Nova Scotia. Now he had reached his destination. Although destination may be an overstatement. Michael was aimless. He had deserted the army and had carried upon his shoulders weeks of paranoia. Around every corner he saw a British soldier waiting to take him away for execution, or exile to Van Diemen's land.

Of course, it was a foolish paranoia. He was in America now, the British army could no longer reach him. Nevertheless it persisted. Once he had crossed into America he realised he had no plan, no path to follow anymore. The strict army life had given way to aimlessness. Fortunately he had money. Although the mutiny was unplanned, he and his fellow deserters were not so rash as to avoid stocking up on some of the finest military equipment Queen Victoria had the good sense to leave laying around. It fetched a fine price across the border.

Michael touched the Sharps Rifle he had purchased for the cost of the two Brunswick service rifles he had carried the long distance from the barracks to America. On Top of that, the ammunition, powder, and a share of the “pay purse” the men had found and split amongst themselves had left him with enough money to get to Missouri, and have some left to spare. His horse, a beautiful black Irish Draught, famous as the horse of choice for the British military aristocracy, accompanied him since its liberation from the hands of a fat, obstinate captain in the army.

But what next? He needed a job or something to do. Out here in the frontier towns however, there was no place for him. "No Irish need apply" signs hung outside many of the only places he had the skills to work. Ready to give up he repacked and fetched his horse from the hitching post he left it on. Yet, just as he was ready to go a poster blew across the ground in front of him.

“On may 1st 1850 Mister Thomas Eckles hereby agrees to furnish good strong wagons..”

Other:
Michael is recruited by Mrs Katie Holmes-Eckles as a bodyguard in the caravan. Michael felt more comfortable with her due his own internal presumption that she would not be as prejudiced towards him.

Michael carries with him a Sharps Rifle, a revolver, and some basic camping equipment. As well as the horse he stole from his commanding officer.
 
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​

Name:
Abigail Bell

Age:
24

Gender:
Female


Description OR image:
8a4bb24f1524f9444a55c8f644404bf6.jpg


Background:
She was born into a house of ill repute and never even knew her father. By now she has even forgotten how her mother (Gertrude Bell) looked as she was taken in by her uncle (Simon Bell) when she was 3. That change didn't make her life any easier as her uncle's wife (Mary Bell) never found love in her heart for Abigail no matter how much her uncle showed love towards her. That woman was the one to rule over the household matters and when she hated she did it with her whole heart.

Her mother did visit her for the first few years bringing her small gifts like a ribbon for her hair. As the years went on Abigail saw her mother less and less until she didn't come to see her at all. Meanwhile, her aunt's rule became harsher and harsher as she was soon doing all the hardest of household tasks. She was a servant for the family and many times she thought about running back to her mother as being a "loose woman" back then seemed better than how she was living.

It was around 5 years back when she heard of her mother's death. It was a joyful day for her aunt Mary, who had always had a disdain for people of her circumstance and a sad day for Abigail's uncle, who could not even mourn properly due to his wife.

Skills:
Cooking, cleaning, washing up and sowing

The sun beamed in Abigail's eye as rose from the kitchen floor she had been washing for the last 30 minutes. Her arms, knees and back were aching even though this was a daily task that had been thrust upon her by her aunt as it was neverending work. One might think it gets easier the more you do it but every time she even seemed to be getting used to the workload it would be increased. Luckily her aunt was out running errands and she could have a moment of rest when she had put away things.

Abigail picked up the bucket with soiled water to pour it out in the backyard. It was terribly heavy and the jitters going through her leg were not making it any more bearable. She limped out of the door slowly trying her best not to spill anything when her uncle dashed next to her with a beaming smile. "Oh Abby darling I will help you with this and then I have a surprise for you," he said while taking the bucket from her hands.

Abigail had walked back into the house and taken a seat at the table. Her uncle returned soon enough and closed the door while looking around to make sure no one was around. "Abby, I have found a way for you to get as far as possible from here and start a new life in a place where no one knows about the matters of your birth," he said with the sound of such blissful hope as he held her hands: "A man named Mister Thomas Eckles will set out for Oregon with his wife and whomever wishes to join. I got to an agreement with him and your spot there is guaranteed - we will just have to make sure you make it to the right spot at a right time."

Abigail was still in shock about this whole ordeal and she was not even sure she wished to leave as she had no skills, money or things to be even vaguely self-sufficient. Her uncle popped out of the room for a good few minutes and this gave Abigail enough time to put a kettle on to make some tea in order to calm the nerves. The man returned with a decently big wooden basin that had a nice big pot and some other things in it. "I and your mother were planning for a long time to find a way to get you out of here but not back in that hell hole with her, my dear Mary has always been awfully harsh on you," he explained: "Here are some of the things we had gathered for your new life and the last of Gerdy's money she had when she died. I even got an agreement with the neighbour Mister Moor to give you his old horse Clumper as he has sadly gotten a little too old for their work and he planned on selling the poor animal to the butcher but we are both sure that the old boy can still manage taking you to the other side of the plains."

Others:
Abigail's uncle Simon got her hired as a laundress by Thomas Eckels for the journey.
Her equipment is made up of a wagon (it looks a little gobbled together), a small set of cookware and a set for eating, some clothes, a laundry set (2 basins, a bigger pot, washboard, bat, 3 bars of soap, starch, small bowl, bench), all her personal belongings (a small pouch of money, her mother's shawl, a few of the ribbons she gifted, a few balls of yarn for knitting and some small knick snacks). A lot of people from their small community help to get her stuff together some because of the goodness of their hearts the others to remove the person of such shame.

Clumper:
He is a 24-year-old workhorse. He is a calm being who is used to heavy labour and harsh days. He was born in the same year as Abigail so the girl has always felt a sense of kinship with the animal.
He used to belong to Mister Moor that lived next door.
 
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I know the others are away, and I'm just a new joiner so maybe don't take my word on it but I don't see why not. If anything it seems an important thing to have on the road especially when camping, hygiene's important yo!
 
CuChulainn said:
I know the others are away, and I'm just a new joiner so maybe don't take my word on it but I don't see why not. If anything it seems an important thing to have on the road especially when camping, hygiene's important yo!
Click to expand...
Yeah that's what I was thinking :closed eyes open smile: but it never hurts to ask
 
I’d venture so! Seeing as a solid laundress was a VERY valuable person, I’d be stunned if she wasn’t welcome!
 
Sleipnir said:
I’d venture so! Seeing as a solid laundress was a VERY valuable person, I’d be stunned if she wasn’t welcome!
Click to expand...
Okie smokie :D Thank you for the confirmation now I can polish up the CS with peace of mind
 
Additionally, a too-fancy Judas Cloud page courtesy of Hel (sketches by me)


Click Tabs



  • SURNAME:
    "Cloud"


    GIVEN NAME:
    "Judas"


    GENDER:
    Nonbinary (See Note)


    AGE:
    23/24


    HEIGHT:
    5' 4"


    HOMELAND:
    Deseret




    NOTE:
    Presents most often as male
BBCode Original Template by: Ambiloquous
 
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I hope this is okay. I'm not great at history...It's a wip: I needed a break.

Character sheet:
Name: Phila Gillis
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Description OR image:
VzJjZZ2iUYUuzblnHJGZc5PMbfLtlWtlm-ORFVIZtGNO5b8cveLDKxMHcXYu-pUkn_lXfHI1L7V2EDkSqQDnhFc-iIODwrsb_284sXCl8CpkWRA79WX7GT_NRM4N5kbd19uX161Cx_WKIRtxu6ToXHw

Wearing mourning black.
Background: Quaker Elwin Andrews was a tailor, as his father before him. He was a quiet man, who supported his wife Temperance in her quiet campaign. They were a stop on the Underground Railroad, taking in escaped men and women, feeding and clothing them before continuing them on their way to freedom. This continued after they had their baby girl, Phila, who grew up helping her mother feed strangers and bind wounds. She grew up with secrets she knew she could never tell.

She found her husband in the son of a cobbler who was an associate of her father’s. Mathew Gillis was a loud man. A good one though. He spoke of women’s rights, encouraging her to do the same. He spoke of abolition, promising her they were God’s people too. He never let his opinions hide. Even when it was best. Phila did not get many details from the sheriff who brought the news. But she could recognize the marks of beatings well enough when she saw her husband’s body.

Now she's taken the train to Independence and bought a space for them using the money she got from selling the house. She wants to get as far away as possible. Take her son with her west.

Skills:
  • Educated
  • First Aid
  • Basic Herbal Knowledge
  • Sewing/making clothes
  • Cooking
  • Cleaning
  • Writing
Rp sample: More to be added; I just needed a break.
The knock came as she was working on supper. “I’ll get it Mama!” Came the expected reply from Elwin, who would do anything to get away from looking at the letters Phila had placed in front of him. He was up and at the door before she could reply.

“Sheriff Henly!” was who he greeted, not the friend of Mathew’s that would often come for supper, making the table lively with debate. Wiping her hands on her apron, she left the counter to meet the man.

“Hello Elwin, I need to speak with your Ma.”

Coming up behind her son, she placed her hand on his shoulder. “What can I do for your sheriff?” She would never say it, but between her and God, she did not like the man. He scared her. Still, she gave him a smile, which faltered when he didn’t return it.

The large man took off his hat, holding it to his chest as he bowed. “G’d afternoon Mrs. Gillis. May I come in?”

She stepped back, pulling Elwin with her by the shoulder. “Of course sheriff. Can I get you anything? Supper’s not finished yet though.”

He shook his head, opened his mouth, then paused. With a sigh, he said, “Maybe you’d best sit down for this ma’am.”

A chill ran down her spine. Mathew wasn’t due yet, but now she desperately wanted him by her side. Mr. Henley was not someone to be disobeyed, so pale, she nodded, walking over to the dining room table, covered in papers that Elwin had been looking through, his slate left to the side. Seated, she pulled the boy into her lap, wrapping an arm around his waist, more for her comfort than his balance.

“Ma?” It was as if he could tell something was wrong too.

With a quick shush and a kiss to the top of his head, Phila took a shaky breath, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before she met the man’s gaze. “S-sir?”

With a solemn voice, he said, “There was a fight. I'm sorry to say, ma'am, Your husband didn’t survive.”

The air punched out of her. And she shook her head. “No. That is impossible. Mathew wouldn’t have fought anyone.” They were pacifists.

“Your husband had many radical views. He was very passionate about them. It’s sometimes sad what passion can do to a man.”

And she understood. Mathew wasn’t fighting. It was a beating. It had happened once before, a man who took offense at his words. But it was only one then. How many was it this time? “I want to see him.”
Other:


Name: Elwin Gillis
Age: 5
Gender: Male
Description OR image: He has his daddy's blue eyes and his mother's brown hair. His ears stick out to the sides a bit and his nose is constantly red from him rubbing it. His clothes, though well-tailored, often have dirt on them. Since his father's death, he's been wearing black in mourning. They haven't gotten dirty.
Background: Elwin was born to the couple 2 years after they were married. He was a cheerful boy, always curious about the world and trying to run off to explore more of it. He’s changed since his father’s death. He hasn't spoken since. He hasn't left his mother's side. Perhaps because of it, though Phila doesn’t know how much he understands, or perhaps he changed because she has.
Skills:
  • Running
  • Observant
  • Can pick up kindling and sticks for fires
Rp sample: Will likely continue
El was bored. His feet swung on the bench as he stared at the papers in front of him. He was supposed to be copying the shapes, no letters onto his slate. But every time he tried to focus he’d smell dinner and get hungry. How can you learn when you’re hungry? But he knew Ma’d be mighty mad if he left this bench.

Unless there was a reason! At a knock on the door, he was off the bench as fast as he could yelling, “I’ll get it, Mama!” He was looking forward to seeing Mr. Bland who came some nights. Ma and Pa always seemed so much happier when he was around.

“Sheriff Henly!” Elwin exclaimed, shocked and silent for a moment at the new face. He’d seen him of course. He was sweet on Miss Farfield, the school teacher. He showed up there near every day. But never here.

“Hello Elwin, I need to speak with your Ma.” The sheriff was a big man. Even bigger than Papa! Or maybe he just made you feel smaller. Elwin always felt like a big boy when his father ruffled his hair.

“What can I do for your sheriff?” With his mother pressed against his back, he felt invincible. Sheriff Henly might make Miss Farfield cry when he pressed her too much, but Mama was made of sterner stuff.

The large man took off his hat, holding it to his chest as he bowed. “G’d afternoon Mrs. Gillis. May I come in?”

She pulled Elwin out of the way by the shoulder. “Of course sheriff. Can I get you anything? Supper’s not finished yet though.”

He shook his head, opened his mouth, the paused, like he’d forgotten what came next in the poem. “Maybe you’d best sit down for this ma’am.”

Ma’s hand tightened on his shoulder, like she was scared he’d run off. Elwin frowned, as he went with her. He climbed into her lap as he was bid, but he couldn’t help but question, “Ma?”

She shushed him, so he quieted, turning to look up at Mr. Henley who seemed very blank. “S-sir?” came from behind him.

“There was a fight. Your husband didn’t survive.” Elwin frowned. Pa told him to never fight. It was against God’s will to hurt another human. There was always a way to resolve things. And what did survive mean again?

A gust of air blew over his shoulder and he felt Ma shaking her head. “No. Mathew wouldn’t have fought anyone.” See even his mother agreed.

“Your husband had radical views. He was very passionate about them. It’s sometimes sad what passion can do to a man.”

Elwin didn’t understand much more than something bad happened to Pa. If he didn’t fight, how could he have gotten hurt?

“I want to see him.”
Other:
 
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  • Zhong Lian
    Camp Cook
    Alias
    Pa Lian
    Age
    62 years old
    Gender
    Male
    Race
    Chinese
    Height
    5' 5"
    Weight
    130 lbs
    Contributions
    Cooking, butchering, laundering experience, wisdom, Spanish, Cantonese
    Hometown
    Guangzhou, Guangdong, China




All Images in Public Domain




BBCode Template by: Ambiloquous
 
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