Post by Sheridan Lovell on Nov 15, 2010 8:53:23 GMT 8
SheridanMarieLovell
[glow=blue,2,300]THE ROLE PLAYER[/glow]
Name: Molly
Age: 17
How you Found us: Proboards Support Site
Role Playing Experience: I’ve roleplayed for years, but I took a break for about a year so I may be a little rusty.
Have you Seen the Show: There’s a show? Teehee. Nope.
[glow=blue,2,300]BASIC CHARACTER INFO[/glow]
Name: Sheridan Marie Lovell; Sherie, Shere, Dannie, Marie
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Alliance: Neutral
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual, leans toward women.
Group: Commoner
Face Claim: Lucy Lawless
[glow=blue,2,300]CHARACTER PERSONALITY[/glow]
Likes:
- Nighttime
- Rain
- Pleasantly cool days
- The idea of magic
- A warm fire
- Meeting new people, for better or for worse
- Whittling, it’s surprisingly relaxing
- Reading, whatever she can get her hands on
- The Market
Dislikes:
- Being proven wrong
- Weak-minded people
- Intolerance
- Confined spaces
- Waiting
- Being controlled
- Feeling powerless
Good/Bad Habits:
Good
- Tolerant
- Usually friendly
- Rational
Bad
- Stubborn about her own beliefs
- Intimidating
- Bossy
Personality: ‘Stubborn as a mule’ is a good phrase to describe Sheridan. She doesn’t like to be proven wrong or argued with, though oftentimes someone will disagree with her ways. While she is willing to change her beliefs if given a good enough argument, she is rather set in what she knows, or thinks, is right. She’s strong-headed, enough to make her seem arrogant and bossy at times. She’s a tough woman, unwilling to take a submissive role in just about anything. While she can come off as intimidating or violent, she is actually quite rational. She’d rather convince someone to see her way through words rather than through violence.
That’s not to say she won’t fight if provoked. While she has an ok temper, she’s like a sleeping bear. Prod her just one too many times, and she’ll come out swinging, or biting, or kicking. She’ll do whatever she has to do. She won’t ever get angry about something someone truly believes in, though. She respects those with a strong enough conviction, someone who won’t let their ideals be swayed. She won’t try to put don’t anyone’s religious beliefs, either. She’s a very tolerant person, and while she may not agree on certain things and voice her own opinion on them, she won’t turn herself into a nagging old woman and keep bringing it up.
Most of the time, though, she is a downright sociable person, equally at home in a tavern, a crowd of people at the market, or a small gathering of friends. She’s rather affectionate to those she’s close to, and doesn’t mind showing it publicly. If you manage to become her friend, she’ll be loyal until she feels she’s been betrayed. She has a sense of brotherhood with men, not much interested in their romantic advances unless they’re quite the catch. Still, she can be quite flirtatious with both sexes, sometimes without even meaning to. All in all, she’s a strong, opinionated woman.
[glow=blue,2,300]CHARACTER HISTORY[/glow]
Family: Sheridan still lives with her immediate family, consisting of her mother and her younger brother. Her father died of smallpox a few years ago, so she has replaced him as her family's caretaker. She is rather close to her younger brother, but especially to her mother. they would spend almost every waking moment together when she was a child, and Sheridan has no forgotten that. Now that her mother is getting older, she is glad to take care of her and her younger sibling, as her way of thanks. She was close to her father aswell, but he was never a touchy-feely kind of guy, so they didn't share as much of a bond as Sheridan does with her mother.
History: Twenty-three years ago in a unassuming home on the outskirts of Camelot, Sheridan was born. Born with dark hair and dark eyes, which lightened to a bright blue with age, she was named after a great-grandmother and wrapped up in a blanket while she bawled her eyes out. It didn't take long for her to get over the screaming, and instead adopt a curiosity in her world. When she wasn't asleep or whimpering to get attention, she would soon learn to be aable to lift her head and body up without any assitance, so she could take in the world around her. Once she could crawl, and then walk, she would often get into trouble, the curious little bugger.
While her family wasn't the most well-off, they made enough money that they didn't go hungry, and they could even afford to purchase a book, which Sheridan read and re-read many times. Once she got bored with that, she would go out and play with the local children, usually the boys. They would roughhouse, and she would get right in on it. Eventually she just began cutting her own hair short with a kitchen knife so the boys couldn't pull on it and use it against her. At this point in her life, many of the other children referred to her as Dannie.
Upon reaching adolescence, she couldn't help but become more feminane. She retained her ability to fight and her cocky, mannish attitude, but she began to carry herself like a woman. her body fileld in and curved naturally, and, to her mother's releif, she began wearing her hair out long again, grudgingly letting her mother braid it when the need took her. She began to hang out with other young women, and it became increasingly obvious that she was attracted to them when her mother saw her kissing another girl behind her home. Surprisingly tolerant, both her father and her mother accepted it, but were glad when Sheridan dated a couple of boys. Her relationships with them didn't last very long, though. During this time her younger brother was born, as well.
Now a young woman, she has taken up her father's role. She finds work wherever she can, while her mother works from home as a seamstress, producing beautiful textiles. Once or twice Sheridan has managed to pickpocket someone without being caught, but she decided she needed to nip that habit in the bud, not wanting to end up on the stockades. To this day, Sheridan juggles between caring for her family, working, and going out to places like the market to see friends or meet new people.
[glow=blue,2,300]ROLE PLAY SAMPLE[/glow]
[From Grey Sages]
Oh gods. It was far too easy to get these men riled up. All it took was a few choice words and, well, this nonsense began. Then again, Vai was pretty sure they were asking for it. The way they eyed her and that poor Native American serving girl was equivalent to asking to be socked in the nose, at least it was in her eyes. And sock a few noses she did. When the fighting first broke out, Vai was eager to be a part of the action. Swinging out with elbows, fists and legs, she had taken on any man that approached spitting insults at her one moment and then falling to the ground mumbling oaths under their breath. With every hit a thrill went up her spine, and it soon felt like she was high on the action, breathing in the fumes of alcohol and blood like it was high-grade tobacco.
With an empty whiskey bottle in hand, she had smashed one unfortunate soul over the head with it as he tried to get a grip on the tall woman. Peering over the crowd, she caught sight of many of the serving girls cowering in the corner, and saw the edge of one's dress as she rushed out of the saloon. Off to get the sheriff, she assumed, a smirk playing on her lips. She scanned the crowd, and while distracted she was socked hard in the gut. Men fell on her as she staggered, ripping her shirt, choking her with her neck-wrap, slashing out at any part of her they could see, and other such things like that. Fighting her way through the mass of men, she tried looking around again. Where had that girl gone off to?
Though she knew the woman was from another tribe, and was, unlike her, pure-blooded, she still felt a kinship with her. Both were strong-willed Native American women, and she respected her for it, even though the woman probably hadn't even acknowledged her existence more than a nod. She'd kept an eye on her when she'd first entered the bar. Ah, that felt like a lifetime ago, as a bottle whizzed past Pavati's head and smashed on the wall. That brought her back to the present, where she now looked over and saw a handsome man trot his way into the bar, a star pinned on it chest. It was rather obvious who he was. She grinned, walking past him as she watched him slap a man senseless and seat him down in a chair.
She caught sight of the woman being followed by the drunkard, and she made a face. How disgusting, the poor girl. She shoved her way through the crowd, while at the same time the man had hoisted himself onto the barn and the woman had managed to knock the drunk man down. She reached the scene as the man yelled, and she couldn't help but look up at him with a grin as the din quieted. Throw them all in the slammer, huh? She hadn't seen the prison, yet, which probably added to the reason she wasn't particularly scared of it. Her eyes glinted with mischief as she silently dared him to cuff her and take her to prison. Turning her attention back to the woman, a worried look crossed over her face. She approached, lightly tapping the crazed woman on the shoulder.
"Ehm.. Miss.. I don't think that's a particularly.. intelligent thing to do.. now that the Sheriff is standing right over there," she said softly. While not particularly terrified herself, she didn't want this woman, as strong-willed and capable as she was, to go to jail.
Oh gods. It was far too easy to get these men riled up. All it took was a few choice words and, well, this nonsense began. Then again, Vai was pretty sure they were asking for it. The way they eyed her and that poor Native American serving girl was equivalent to asking to be socked in the nose, at least it was in her eyes. And sock a few noses she did. When the fighting first broke out, Vai was eager to be a part of the action. Swinging out with elbows, fists and legs, she had taken on any man that approached spitting insults at her one moment and then falling to the ground mumbling oaths under their breath. With every hit a thrill went up her spine, and it soon felt like she was high on the action, breathing in the fumes of alcohol and blood like it was high-grade tobacco.
With an empty whiskey bottle in hand, she had smashed one unfortunate soul over the head with it as he tried to get a grip on the tall woman. Peering over the crowd, she caught sight of many of the serving girls cowering in the corner, and saw the edge of one's dress as she rushed out of the saloon. Off to get the sheriff, she assumed, a smirk playing on her lips. She scanned the crowd, and while distracted she was socked hard in the gut. Men fell on her as she staggered, ripping her shirt, choking her with her neck-wrap, slashing out at any part of her they could see, and other such things like that. Fighting her way through the mass of men, she tried looking around again. Where had that girl gone off to?
Though she knew the woman was from another tribe, and was, unlike her, pure-blooded, she still felt a kinship with her. Both were strong-willed Native American women, and she respected her for it, even though the woman probably hadn't even acknowledged her existence more than a nod. She'd kept an eye on her when she'd first entered the bar. Ah, that felt like a lifetime ago, as a bottle whizzed past Pavati's head and smashed on the wall. That brought her back to the present, where she now looked over and saw a handsome man trot his way into the bar, a star pinned on it chest. It was rather obvious who he was. She grinned, walking past him as she watched him slap a man senseless and seat him down in a chair.
She caught sight of the woman being followed by the drunkard, and she made a face. How disgusting, the poor girl. She shoved her way through the crowd, while at the same time the man had hoisted himself onto the barn and the woman had managed to knock the drunk man down. She reached the scene as the man yelled, and she couldn't help but look up at him with a grin as the din quieted. Throw them all in the slammer, huh? She hadn't seen the prison, yet, which probably added to the reason she wasn't particularly scared of it. Her eyes glinted with mischief as she silently dared him to cuff her and take her to prison. Turning her attention back to the woman, a worried look crossed over her face. She approached, lightly tapping the crazed woman on the shoulder.
"Ehm.. Miss.. I don't think that's a particularly.. intelligent thing to do.. now that the Sheriff is standing right over there," she said softly. While not particularly terrified herself, she didn't want this woman, as strong-willed and capable as she was, to go to jail.
