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Character Exploration Challenge #1 - Description Sans Appearance

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Lady Brookes was often heard before seen. The hard clack of her cane followed by the smaller clicks of her heels was idiosyncratic to her approach. Her footsteps weighted with a sense of authority; her motions intentional and precise. There was nothing physically imposing about the stately aristocrat, nor was she well versed in magic of any kind. Rather, she wielded words and influence, and her strike was as lethal as a blade.

There were hints that she was masculine in her femininity. The way that she insisted upon scotch instead of wine, for instance. On work days, she often smelled of charcoal-smoke, sweetly spiced cigars, hot metal and oil. Her voice was low, modulated, and often had a sonorous quality to it.

There was something vaguely threatening in the predatory way Scarlett carried herself. When her irritation was not openly conveyed, it could still be felt. Her leather gloves would creak as her hand tightened, or her finger would tap more audibly against the tip of her cane. Though her smile persisted, it resembled bared teeth. More than anything she was a creature of hideous pride and ambition. Pressure had made her a diamond, but it was by her design that the diamond would be set into a crown.
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Posted Jul 18, 17
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When she enters a room, you're more likely to hear the sounds of Derval's animals than her footsteps. The skittering of a spider or the quiet growling of a jungle stalker drown out her quiet footfalls. Once you're aware of her presence, she'll walk just heavily enough to be audible, her pace measured and slow.

Derval has two laughs. One is restrained - calculated to be polite, not overwhelming. You'll only hear this if she wants to make a good impression. Her actual laugh is loud, nearly manic in its enthusiasm. It is joy at its most genuine, but there's an unpleasant undertone to it. You'll hear this one if she doesn't care what impression you get of her.

She tends to stand just a little too close for comfort. Or if she doesn't, her creature of choice does. When she speaks, she is animated, passionate - except on those rare occasions of needing a good impression. When unrestrained, she moves like a predator, ready to spring forth at any moment like one of her precious pets.
screechfox.5072 | screechfox#4848

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Posted Jul 21, 17
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The hearth crackles warmly this cool autumn night. A few feet away a baby and currently very much teething little arctodus lay relaxed; sating his aching gums on a dried minotaur thigh bone at present nearly four times his weight, but given a year or so his jaws will easily be able to snap in two. A few feet further still his master sits smiling in her tall-backed lounge chair briefly allowing herself a moment to overlook him. Swirling a glass of some of Elona's finest and oldest vintage in one hand, while charting by hand the map strewn across her lap with the other.

She admired the little cub; his current state of youthful unrealized power was not one she shared. Her years of experience and scheming had brought her more power than held by almost anyone else in the Reach short of maybe the Queen and the Ministry officials themselves. An accumulated status she'd nearly lost a year ago, when the Seraph after years of pursuit had finally caught up with her. Fifty-four days she spent in that cold cell. Shivering and her privy merely a bucket in one corner.

It was only due to a plea bargain with a certain Exemplar of the Shining Blade in exchange for information that she sat here in comfort tonight. An Exemplar that still thinks her on a short leash. Utter foolishness. One with so many eyes, ears, and able hands throughout the Reach and beyond doesn't need to lift a finger of her own accord if undesired. And this so-called probation had only served to drive her deeper into the underbelly; sharpened her already impressive collective senses.

But enough of her personal reverie. These new smuggling routes would not plot themselves, after all. There is coin to be made.

((I got going and got swept away, so you got four instead of two... -_- ))
Posted Oct 15, 17 · Last edited Oct 15, 17
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A rustle of leaves, disturbed by wolf paw and armored boot as the Norn stalks in the forest. Wordless hand movements scattering the pack into a wide circle. Her hand notching an arrow, her bow drawn and sighted upon the camp in the distance, illuminated by the campfires between the trees. She whistles sharply, the sound echoing through the forest at the same time as an arrow whistles through the air, obliterating the head of the first sentry. By the time the next had sounded a cry of alarm, the Norn and her pack was upon them. Arrows killing or pinning panicked warriors as the wolves struck fleeing foes down, and any that strayed from the group.

The rain of arrows ceased, followed by a berserkers roar as the Norn ranger charged into the remaining few, blood spraying through the air with each blow of her weapons. Soon there was only one left, wounded and cowering against a tree as she approached and the wolves circled ever closer, howling and glaring at him. She knelt, taking the parcel in his hands and setting it aside before growling. "Tell me everything you know, or the wolves will feast."
GW2 home server- Sorrow's Furnance Kalavier.1097
The Noble The SurvivorThe Commander

Feedback is great, and helps to improve us. If something seems off in my bios, come poke me and discuss it! If something is awesome, tell me! :)
Posted Oct 16, 17
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She sat by a full-length window, watching the birds in the cloudy skies fly high, and fly free. The light sweet scent of cherries filled the space around her, and grew stronger whenever she turned her head to look in another direction. At the same time, whenever she shifts in her seat, the sound of leaves and petals rustling along with the movement can be heard. Then, a joke must have caused the usually quiet one to part her lips and let a soft melodious laughter escape, and she smiles gently and warm at the the one who could so easily melt the ice in her heart as she stretches out a hand. "Join me?" She says in her soft breathy voice that told of gentleness learned from violence, and of love learned from pain.

- Eviern
"The walls we build around us to keep sadness out also keeps out the joy."
Tiryn.4936

Eviern
Posted Oct 16, 17
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A blue, fiery glance. Scars painting a picture of many combats fought littering a young body. She speaks properly, a natural diplomat with a husky, soothing and calming voice. Beneath the facade hides a burning passion and a steel borne of putting her life on the line many times for friends, family, strangers. Loyal to her friends, her family, her pack. Not only others of her kind, but mostly other races. Strength is told through the stance of the body, the spoken words, the grip when shaking hands. Strength is seen throughout her body. This is one that can be counted on....

- Beth Feywind
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http://www.guildwars2roleplayers.com/forum/m/2737230/viewthread/20134607-tcbg-beth-feywind-permawip-comments-welcome/post/132420751#post_132420751
http://www.guildwars2roleplayers.com/forum/m/2737230/viewthread/30880464-tc-karigan-gyren
http://www.guildwars2roleplayers.com/home/m/2737230/viewthread/31135773-researcher-trixxi/page/1
Posted Oct 16, 17 · Last edited Oct 16, 17
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It's in the way he stands—his weight leaning more on one leg than the other, the way his boots cling to his calves. He's weary beneath it all, but it's covered by the manner his arms cross when he's curious, or the light ‘hmm’ that bubbles forth from his lips while reading a particularly interesting book. He plays the part of a whore blanketed in velvet, but he's a scholar, the very definition of grace and poise despite standing nearly alone in the middle of a dusty library in the early hours of the morning, teeth tapping desperately to break silence. He can't tell that the sun was rising from behind the Shiverpeaks, but he can feel it in the stretch of his jaw as a yawn bubbles forth. There's a ‘shh’ from afar, from a Magister who is more awake than he.

When he returns home the sun is too warm against his skin. It feels like needles from spending such a long time sheltered in the dark, deep beneath the surface of a mountain. He opens the door in silence, and when he makes his way further in he's greeted by the sight of his own bed, still full and welcoming. When he crawls in he's welcomed by an equally weary kiss to his cheek, and he sleeps late into the afternoon until waking to the scent of spice and roses.

“Good morning, darling.”
Posted Oct 16, 17
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( psa --- i love this challenge, keep em coming. i've been long needing prompts to push me back into active writing.)


His touch is electricity sparking with nervous energy against the rifle's trigger. It's clear by the meticulous nature of his touch that he knows just how much pressure he can risk without a shot resounding. Eyes pierce through the weapon's scope with a promise that he can somehow see movement before it happens. He rests along the rooftop with the careful fluidity of a panther and is motionless, every hint of his aura one of death beyond his bleak drone of life—like he should not exist at all. Not even his breathing is audible and maybe he is indeed just the haunting remains of some distant memory.

When he moves in his travels throughout Elona's harsh desert, even trapped beneath the brightness of its sun, he commands no attention—somehow. One would think an outsider should draw eyes easily. But he knows how to creep among gatherings like the most inaudible whisper. He knows how to observe and wait the way tragedy looms. All the same, the Crystal Desert's natives have wasted no suspicion on him, not even when he sings eerily to himself or hums during his walks through the city. The lilting pitch of his voice has apparently been enough to dissuade them from the warnings that echo through the cold discipline of a soldierly poise.

He is little more than a ghost.
Posted Oct 16, 17 · Last edited Oct 16, 17
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You know that guy from High School? The troublemaker with the stupid grin who decided that you were his best friend one day and pulled you along on all those stupid stunts. He kept having these really, really, really stupid ideas that you knew that HE knew were bad ideas, but no amount of talking could ever dissuade him from going through with them. And whenever it came up pay up, he'd just keep telling you "It's gonna be just fine, man!" and chuckle away with that dumb-ass laugh of his. But you couldn't really get yourself to hate him, cause he's the guy that'd hope on his scooter and pick you up at 3am on a wednesday night after a particularily bad fight with your boy/girlfriend without as much as a question why. He'd then suggest something absolutely stupid to help cheer you up, and you'd go pull one of those stunts again.

Now put that guy in an adult's body and give him a never-ending supply of fire, and you have Aodhún.
I have too many characters...
Posted Oct 16, 17
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The first sign that someone was in trouble when around the sheriff of Dry Top wasn't the sudden burst of gunfire. It wasn't the trail of colourful metaphors that would spew forth. It was the complete and sudden quiet that would fall on the area. Even in the corner of a noisy pub or tavern. Among the noise there was this one area of the tavern that a silence would fall over it. This silence was often followed by the distinct scent of mint and sage that was a very familiar vice for Shani Wennemein.

Even across the full length of a noisy tavern, Shani had the uncanny ability to zero in on the smallest of transgressions. She would even make herself look inconspicuous as she'd hide her features in the shade of her stetson. But once she felt forced to move, there was the sudden sound of spurs chiming as her boot falls sounded the ominous clomp clomp clomp across the floor. In that moment, all of the rumours and stories of the fastest gunslinger in all of Kryta seemed to become even bigger than life. The target of a transgression may even note that Shani's hands were never far from her guns as they hung tightly to her hips. At this point, there was only one thing which one could do; pray to whatever gods that would hear, or become religious very, very quickly.
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Posted Oct 16, 17
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