Post by hopper on Aug 10, 2017 13:35:07 GMT -8
Winifred Twist
Resolve level: 0
-Appearance
Thin, average height, plain face with watery blue eyes, head is shaved, back of head is heavily scarred, as are the soles of her palms and feet.
Age:
19
Sex:
Female
Physical Description:
Attire:
Head is normally covered with a head-wrap or scarf. The scar/head wrap is a deep purple and has hundreds of different beads sewn into it's surface, the beads forming pictures that seem to reference some sort of deity.Her clothing typically consists of a loose white frock cavalier shirt with a black top and white stripes running along the sleeves, black trousers gathered at the knees, white leggings running up to the knees and a pair of grey calfskin boots with a leather sole.
-Biography
Quirks:
+Resilient: +10% Stress Healing received. When one has been through the fire and survived, little else may scare them.
+Evasive: +5 DODGE. Long used to bottles and other refuse being hurled her way as she performed, Winifred easily dodges most things...most of the time.
- Anemic: -10% Bleed resist. Wynne has always been in somewhat poor health.
- Nocturnal: -2 SPD when the Torch is above 75. Winifred has gotten into the habit of rising late and sleeping in, and so finds being active during daylight hours to be quite disorienting.
Backstory Synopsis:
Winifred was sold to a traveling circus was she was six by a desperate mother with too many children as it was. She spent the formative years of her life with the freaks and outcasts, taught how to sing by clowns in garish makeup and how to dance by acrobats. The ring-leader was her adopted father and he loved her though his love was cruel. She learned fast and soon joined the show with her death-defying acts, such as playing the flute while walking a tightrope or telling jokes with taming lions. It was all she knew for her whole life until the show came to an abrupt one fiery night.
Full Backstory:
In a crowded tumble-down house in a steadily dying town on the souther coast of England, a child was born. She was the eight of eight, and as such had to claw for every scrap of nourishment she could, before her equally ravished brothers and sisters could take it from her. She rarely knew a the affection of her mother, who worked, nor that of her father because he had left five months before her birth on a whaling vessel that capsized off the coast. Her life was never exactly easy, and given her small stature she often found it even more challenging than her ilk.
Life finds a way, however, and Winifred's way was one of cunning and deceit. Learning how to filch and steal almost as soon as she could walk and talk, she took some pleasure in the tricking of her more gullible family (and townsfolk) from their goods. This, of course, earned her more than a few knocks about the head but these merely taught her how to be a better liar, or if things went poorly, a better runner. At last, her mother finding the small girl such a nuisance, sold Wynne into the care of a circus: 'Captain Rumwald's show of trickeries and amusements.'
winifre was little perturbed by this turn of events, after all, what love was there between her mother and herself? Even so, the circus life was all but more difficult than life in the little town. Always underfoot, she found herself chided and beaten with startling regularity. But with a knack for deception, the ringmaster found her a place soon enough, running a cheap huckster's stand outside the tent, conning the foolish out of their change. From here, she worked her way up, mastering the performing arts till at last she made her big debut, playing various instruments while walking a tightrope, or soliloquizing while ducking knives or back flipping through hoops. It was not an easy life but it was one she adored, the cheers of the crowd becoming her real lucre. The circus taught of her a new god, a secret god. One who honored laughter and music, and drink and food, but also honored blood and steel and burning.
Jack the smiling god, he who watches and laughs. They cut her, on her palms and feet and head, to bring her to the strange god, and he gave her a gift, a gift for song and for survival.
The carefree times were not to last however. Everything came crashing down a brisk night in November. The show was proceeding as planned, everything running smooth as ever. The clowns juggled and giggled, the acrobats leaping and flying through the air, it was not until the horses came out that the trouble started. Winifred, standing on one's back, strumming a lute and singing a song, hardly had time to react as a bottle came flying from the crowd to explode at one of the horses hooves. The animal reared back and sent its rider to the ground, someone tried to calm the panicked animal but it wasn't working, the beast was in a frenzy as it charged around the ring and it was during this panic that it knocked over a large standing torch that served both to light the ring as a prop for later performances. The torch fell onto the wooded stands, setting them alight, and soon enough a huge blaze had been created. In only a few moments the whole of the stands was burning, and people were running from the tent. The chaos had driven the other horses into a stampede and they threw their riders and ran, Wynne included. She tumbled to the ground and lay there stunned. Hardly anyone noticed her as they fled, and so she was left among the fire. The smoke choked her till she passed out. When she awoke, she found herself lying just outside the ashen remains of the tent, the ringleader beside her, his face covered in soot and his clothes singed and burned. With no family that would take her and nowhere to go, Winifred gathered what few things she had and set out to find a place for people like her, maybe not a circus, but a place almost as comical if viewed from the right perspective...
Misc. Notes: The scars on her palms look like burning music notes, the one on her left hand looking like a treble clef and the one on her right like a sixteenth note. The scars on the soles of her feet look like almost like people contorted into some sort of odd dance. The scars on the back of her head look like a pair of rabbit ears and a knife over thee large 'x's.
-Skills & Equipment
Weapons:
A steel dagger.
Armor:
None, outside of her clothes.
Other gear:
A battered mandolin.
Strengths:
-Wynne has a quick mind and can most just as fast, making her difficult to catch.
-Growing up around clowns and jokers has gifted Winifred with a good sense of humour, even in the dark.
-Winifred is very hard to worry or upset.
-Wynne spent a long time mastering her fears in the name of entertainment and so can more easily resist the urge to panic.
Weaknesses:
-Winifred being a teenage girl, and a somewhat sickly one at that, is not very strong and could be easily overpowered by most people.
-Winifred has a hard time acting her age and may resort to childish tricks and behavior in order to get her way.
-Wynne has never learned how to share and has no problems taking from those around her.
-Winifred is an almost compulsive liar.
Resolve level: 0
-Appearance
Thin, average height, plain face with watery blue eyes, head is shaved, back of head is heavily scarred, as are the soles of her palms and feet.
Age:
19
Sex:
Female
Physical Description:
Attire:
Head is normally covered with a head-wrap or scarf. The scar/head wrap is a deep purple and has hundreds of different beads sewn into it's surface, the beads forming pictures that seem to reference some sort of deity.Her clothing typically consists of a loose white frock cavalier shirt with a black top and white stripes running along the sleeves, black trousers gathered at the knees, white leggings running up to the knees and a pair of grey calfskin boots with a leather sole.
-Biography
Quirks:
+Resilient: +10% Stress Healing received. When one has been through the fire and survived, little else may scare them.
+Evasive: +5 DODGE. Long used to bottles and other refuse being hurled her way as she performed, Winifred easily dodges most things...most of the time.
- Anemic: -10% Bleed resist. Wynne has always been in somewhat poor health.
- Nocturnal: -2 SPD when the Torch is above 75. Winifred has gotten into the habit of rising late and sleeping in, and so finds being active during daylight hours to be quite disorienting.
Backstory Synopsis:
Winifred was sold to a traveling circus was she was six by a desperate mother with too many children as it was. She spent the formative years of her life with the freaks and outcasts, taught how to sing by clowns in garish makeup and how to dance by acrobats. The ring-leader was her adopted father and he loved her though his love was cruel. She learned fast and soon joined the show with her death-defying acts, such as playing the flute while walking a tightrope or telling jokes with taming lions. It was all she knew for her whole life until the show came to an abrupt one fiery night.
Full Backstory:
In a crowded tumble-down house in a steadily dying town on the souther coast of England, a child was born. She was the eight of eight, and as such had to claw for every scrap of nourishment she could, before her equally ravished brothers and sisters could take it from her. She rarely knew a the affection of her mother, who worked, nor that of her father because he had left five months before her birth on a whaling vessel that capsized off the coast. Her life was never exactly easy, and given her small stature she often found it even more challenging than her ilk.
Life finds a way, however, and Winifred's way was one of cunning and deceit. Learning how to filch and steal almost as soon as she could walk and talk, she took some pleasure in the tricking of her more gullible family (and townsfolk) from their goods. This, of course, earned her more than a few knocks about the head but these merely taught her how to be a better liar, or if things went poorly, a better runner. At last, her mother finding the small girl such a nuisance, sold Wynne into the care of a circus: 'Captain Rumwald's show of trickeries and amusements.'
winifre was little perturbed by this turn of events, after all, what love was there between her mother and herself? Even so, the circus life was all but more difficult than life in the little town. Always underfoot, she found herself chided and beaten with startling regularity. But with a knack for deception, the ringmaster found her a place soon enough, running a cheap huckster's stand outside the tent, conning the foolish out of their change. From here, she worked her way up, mastering the performing arts till at last she made her big debut, playing various instruments while walking a tightrope, or soliloquizing while ducking knives or back flipping through hoops. It was not an easy life but it was one she adored, the cheers of the crowd becoming her real lucre. The circus taught of her a new god, a secret god. One who honored laughter and music, and drink and food, but also honored blood and steel and burning.
Jack the smiling god, he who watches and laughs. They cut her, on her palms and feet and head, to bring her to the strange god, and he gave her a gift, a gift for song and for survival.
The carefree times were not to last however. Everything came crashing down a brisk night in November. The show was proceeding as planned, everything running smooth as ever. The clowns juggled and giggled, the acrobats leaping and flying through the air, it was not until the horses came out that the trouble started. Winifred, standing on one's back, strumming a lute and singing a song, hardly had time to react as a bottle came flying from the crowd to explode at one of the horses hooves. The animal reared back and sent its rider to the ground, someone tried to calm the panicked animal but it wasn't working, the beast was in a frenzy as it charged around the ring and it was during this panic that it knocked over a large standing torch that served both to light the ring as a prop for later performances. The torch fell onto the wooded stands, setting them alight, and soon enough a huge blaze had been created. In only a few moments the whole of the stands was burning, and people were running from the tent. The chaos had driven the other horses into a stampede and they threw their riders and ran, Wynne included. She tumbled to the ground and lay there stunned. Hardly anyone noticed her as they fled, and so she was left among the fire. The smoke choked her till she passed out. When she awoke, she found herself lying just outside the ashen remains of the tent, the ringleader beside her, his face covered in soot and his clothes singed and burned. With no family that would take her and nowhere to go, Winifred gathered what few things she had and set out to find a place for people like her, maybe not a circus, but a place almost as comical if viewed from the right perspective...
Misc. Notes: The scars on her palms look like burning music notes, the one on her left hand looking like a treble clef and the one on her right like a sixteenth note. The scars on the soles of her feet look like almost like people contorted into some sort of odd dance. The scars on the back of her head look like a pair of rabbit ears and a knife over thee large 'x's.
-Skills & Equipment
Weapons:
A steel dagger.
Armor:
None, outside of her clothes.
Other gear:
A battered mandolin.
Strengths:
-Wynne has a quick mind and can most just as fast, making her difficult to catch.
-Growing up around clowns and jokers has gifted Winifred with a good sense of humour, even in the dark.
-Winifred is very hard to worry or upset.
-Wynne spent a long time mastering her fears in the name of entertainment and so can more easily resist the urge to panic.
Weaknesses:
-Winifred being a teenage girl, and a somewhat sickly one at that, is not very strong and could be easily overpowered by most people.
-Winifred has a hard time acting her age and may resort to childish tricks and behavior in order to get her way.
-Wynne has never learned how to share and has no problems taking from those around her.
-Winifred is an almost compulsive liar.
