Post by Alice Walker on Sept 28, 2013 13:19:25 GMT -8
The first rule of magic: Always be the smartest guy in the room.
Basic Information
Full Name: Alice Aeron Walker
Nickname / Code Name: Alec (nickname), Ceadis (alias)
Age: 25 years old
Gender: Female
Sexual Preference: Demisexual
Race: Human (witch ancestry)
Profession: Information Broker/Thief
Birthday: June 10th
Spoken Languages: English. Knows a little French, but nowhere near enough to be labeled as proficient.
Economical Status: Somewhere in the upper lower or lower middle class.
Face Claim: Susan Coffey
Appearance:
Hair: Slightly unruly and very wavy red hair. Red might be dyed or a product of magic, but she isn’t too telling about it.
Eyes: Average shaped, sized, and positioned hazel eyes
Skin tone: Pale
Height: She’s roughly 5’4”
Build: She’s thin, with longer, thinner muscles that are easily hidden within her frame and don’t necessarily bulk her up. She would refer to her body type as close to or just under average.
Birthmarks/Freckles/Scars: She has some freckles and a notable birthmark on her right leg. Scars are much more common, mostly of them the results of childhood accidents. The ones on her hands are the results of carelessness with knives.
Other: Witching abilities cause her eyes to temporarily shift in color to something close to but not quite yellow.
Fashion Sense / Dress Style: Alec prefers jeans and simpler shirts, just because of the practicality and her decision not to waste the funds she has on clothes and accessories. However she does own clothes of every formality, mostly so infiltrating is easier whenever she has to do it.
Personality:
Attitude: Alec is, or at least she believes herself to be, clever. Not a mastermind or anything of the like, but clever in her own way that helps her. Which wouldn’t be bad argument, really, considering she’s got an eye for reading body language and understands hidden meanings enough to at least attempt to string someone along if she so wished, though she doesn’t enjoy this as much as she enjoys sarcasm and vaguely witty comments. She’s also clever enough to pick up skills somewhat easily, though she has a problem with languages and, well, most of the skills she wants to learn aren’t for her to set up a legal operation. Her type of clever isn’t smart, though; while she did go through public education and is rather bright, she isn’t too interested in learning unless it’s for a purpose, and thus knows a little about a lot of different topics.
She’s far more concerned with her own survival than friends, and it’s obvious in her demeanor. She tends to be cool, calculating, and dismissive, even to those she’s been previously acquainted with because she realizes that, while thieves tend to stick together, money and fame are far more important than comradeship. In a strange twist of irony, however, Alec has a sort of code, which is far more honorable than might be expected of an information thief: she doesn’t believe in turning others in the business into the authorities, nor does she believe in intentionally sabotaging anything or harming innocents, which to her mostly consists of civilians. And by harming, she mostly follows a Robin Hood sort of deal: if they can afford to lose it, then she’s willing to take it. Her own almost self-imposed poverty gives her enough of a reason to follow that logic; she keeps what little she wants and needs to live and tends to use the rest to employ the poor and homeless to spy for her.
Her strange form of honor aside, she views forming lasting bonds as something not to take seriously. From her upbringing she puts a lot of value on family and, because of that, wants to keep herself from a situation where she would want to help anyone out from the goodness of her heart; while she won’t turn thieves in, she won’t save them if they get themselves into trouble and doesn’t want to. She’s kind of uncomfortable with familiarity (she prefers to be the silent watcher in the room, but that might just be because she likes spying) and is definitely not comfortable with friendship. She dislikes being dependent on someone or something and is thus convinced she needs to be almost entirely self-reliant, even if she believes this is a bad plan. She dislikes being in debt to someone even more, to the point of refusing offers of help because she doesn’t want to get unintentionally tied to another person.
Likes:
- Knives (she more enjoys the idea of a knife more than the actually stabby stabby part)
- Rain
- Solitude
Dislikes:
- Familiarity
- Arrogance
- Assumptions
- The thought of getting caught
- Actually getting caught
Strengths:
- People reading skills
- Clever
- Knife skills
Weaknesses:
- Forced emotional detachment
- Personal honor code
- Unwilling to accept help
- Physically rather weak
Habits:
- She messes with her nails/fingers whenever she gets extremely nervous
- Has to be moving in some way at most times and is usually, at the very least, taping her foot
- Enjoys playing with knives, especially when she wants to intimidate someone
Goals:
- Survive
Family:
- Elizabeth Walker (mother, alive)
- Jason Walker (father, alive)
- Aiden Smith (mentor, alive)
- Assorted other members of her coven
Pets: She owns a female black cat that she found living in the dumpsters. It’s smaller than normal and Alec named her Sock just because the cat likes trying to fit herself into socks of various sizes.
Background / History: She was born and raised in Brooklyn as part of a rather small, very close-knit group of witches, which they openly called themselves in the presence of their own. They all had witch background and magic, however weak, and they occupied homes near enough to one another that they all knew each other and were all a large, extended family. Alec was young and raised by a village, composed of many people who possessed many talents. Her own gift of magic was discovered fairly early, when she was about ten, and she was trained in controlling it before anything else, and by that time she had an idea of what she wanted to do with her talents and spent her teenaged years learning and continuing her public education.
It was a nice childhood, even if she didn’t exactly have a yard to fun around in or a large, slobbery dog. She had a group of openminded individuals, though, who didn’t bat an eyelash when she said she was interested in learning how to pick locks or read minds or throw knives. It was about that time, when she began asking those questions, that one of the coven members, Aiden Smith, took her under his wing and introduced her to the thieving world, even if he never really allowed her to actually steal. But he knew his way around and thought to entertain her curiosity and teach her what he knew, because a coven needed a large number of skills and her interest was, well, interesting to him. The magical community was nothing new to her, but the new one was, and she was enamored.
She was about seventeen when she became seriously interested and seriously considered it, and when she told him he didn’t dissuade her. She honed the skills she would need as much as he could, gave her a few valuable connections, and not too long after turning eighteen he declared she knew all she would need to know and wished her luck and advice or the like whenever she needed it. She still visits him sometimes. But she took his last words and set off, not knowing what or where she would go but wanting to do something.
It took a while for her to get on her feet and decide on her favored career path. She spent two years as a thief for hire before she finally decided she wanted to deal primarily in information, and she went back to Aiden, hoping he could teach her a thing or two. He taught her a little more than a thing or two, most of them different hacking skills, and she was glad for that break before going back out and beginning to establish herself again.
She’s still in that stage, though she’s come far. What buyers she does have are satisfied with her work and she’s been successful enough to make a profit that’s allowed her to buy an apartment. As much as she would like to, she hasn’t kept in contact with her coven, mostly because of the risks associated with such a thing.
Other Info (Optional):
Other / Other Facts: Alec’s skills in magic are mostly of the mental sort. While she knows a bit of everything, since her coven’s custom is to teach children a little bit of everything and have them decide what they would continue, she’s most learned in mind reading… which isn’t nearly as useful as one would imagine. It takes control and patience to even follow someone’s current thoughts without them knowing, and it’s extremely hard for her to search through someone’s mind. It’s mostly something she uses to make sure no one’s thinking about attacking her in some way, and even then she rarely uses it because it takes a lot of effort and can be extremely distracting.
Art:
Theme Song:
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OOC
Name: Jay
Age: 19
How long have you been roleplaying?: 6 or so years
Sample Rp: (For a fandom role-play, sorry. It's one of the newest things I have.)
She had not remembered Duncan being this easy in the times before he'd been killed at Ostagar, but then he supposed their problems were different. He had been Commander to the Grey in the times leading up to the Blight and she, well, she got thrown the task of rebuilding both the Wardens and Ferelden after said Blight and the added civil war. Elissa would admit that Alistair had it worse, being King and having to stay to do kingly stuff in Denerim, but at the moment she wasn't exactly inclined to.
Well, if Alistair had actually remained in Denerim. Apparently he decided to visit her at Vigil's Keep, despite her being gone less than a week. But it had been nice to talk to him about the concerning matter of talking darkspawn and what appeared to be other threats. Nice until Alistair insisted that she go sleep, because she'd had a busy day, and Varel had helped him by insisting that there was nothing of import to be attended to. Her plan had been to wait until her husband was asleep to sneak out and continue working, but he had other ideas. And methods of tiring her out.
So they had parted in the morning, and shortly after she had seen to the Joining of Anders, Oghren and Mhairi. The last hadn't survived, which put her in a bad enough mood; she'd liked the girl. That mood was made quite a bit worse when Varel informed her there was a man in the dungeons and he'd, apparently, been there for some time. Oh, and there was a letter from Fergus that she should probably look at.
Elissa had rolled her eyes and made her way to the dungeon. Her brother could wait, even if she had promised him that she would do her best to keep in touch. She was afraid he would do something to himself that he would regret. They had both lost much during the Blight, but she had been the one to get her revenge.
Fergus... poor Fergus. She should invite him to the Keep, later, and she could finally return the Shield and Sword of Highever to their proper place. Even though she had never used either -- her talent was more with bows, not with blades, and those memories always left her confused, because she should not remember the son of the man who murdered her family so fondly -- she had carried them throughout the Blight and had endured much teasing from her companions. Even Alistair, but at least he apologized for it. And, well, she got to return the teasing when she found Duncan's shield in Denerim.
Men were still cleaning up from the darkspawn attack the morning before, and she returned most of the greetings she got. She was stopped by Wade, who she hadn't known relocated, and he asked her how the armor was handling. Only Wade would think of gifting armor made with the scales of the archdemon to the Hero of Ferelden, but she would admit he had done a wonderful job. Even if the armor was a little bit too flashy to her. But she'd worn it, partly to honor him and partly because she was proud she was vanquisher of the archdemon. Or, well, it's body. The Old God's soul was with Morrigan. Elissa still didn't know what to feel about that.
It only took a few minutes for her to get away from Wade, who was still as excited as ever, and it was then she took a breath and put on her Warden Commander mask, because she would need it. She had seen her father deal with prisoners and was aware it was not a pleasant task, even if it had to be done. She entered the dungeon, listened to the report of the guard on duty, then thanked him as she strode forward.
When she saw who it was, though, her blood ran cold and she hesitated midstep. She turned back to the guard, some brown hair getting in her face, and said, "Please tell Seneschal Varel to come here. Immediately." The guard bowed before leaving, and she waited until he was gone before she turned back, brushed her hair -- longer than she'd worn it during the Blight, mostly because she had had no need to cut it at Court, but was probably going to need to soon -- out of her eyes, and sent him a look. A look that he probably remembered from whenever she thought he did something stupid. She was sure the look hadn't changed. She'd had need of it a lot,especially in regards to the antics of Oghren and Zevran.
She made this noise -- one of immeasurable frustration -- and massaged her temples before looking at him again, this time trying to fight the look. She was sure there was still something not exactly peasant in her brown eyes, but she'd never had that much composure. She was a much better Warden than a noble, but she supposed all Couslands had been firey. Her mother for sure, but she quickly squashed the thoughts. She was dealing with a prisoner, not in her room alone, and this was no time for tears.
Elissa was glad that her voice held little but frustration. It was the minor victory of the day. "What are you doing in my dungeon?"
Well, if Alistair had actually remained in Denerim. Apparently he decided to visit her at Vigil's Keep, despite her being gone less than a week. But it had been nice to talk to him about the concerning matter of talking darkspawn and what appeared to be other threats. Nice until Alistair insisted that she go sleep, because she'd had a busy day, and Varel had helped him by insisting that there was nothing of import to be attended to. Her plan had been to wait until her husband was asleep to sneak out and continue working, but he had other ideas. And methods of tiring her out.
So they had parted in the morning, and shortly after she had seen to the Joining of Anders, Oghren and Mhairi. The last hadn't survived, which put her in a bad enough mood; she'd liked the girl. That mood was made quite a bit worse when Varel informed her there was a man in the dungeons and he'd, apparently, been there for some time. Oh, and there was a letter from Fergus that she should probably look at.
Elissa had rolled her eyes and made her way to the dungeon. Her brother could wait, even if she had promised him that she would do her best to keep in touch. She was afraid he would do something to himself that he would regret. They had both lost much during the Blight, but she had been the one to get her revenge.
Fergus... poor Fergus. She should invite him to the Keep, later, and she could finally return the Shield and Sword of Highever to their proper place. Even though she had never used either -- her talent was more with bows, not with blades, and those memories always left her confused, because she should not remember the son of the man who murdered her family so fondly -- she had carried them throughout the Blight and had endured much teasing from her companions. Even Alistair, but at least he apologized for it. And, well, she got to return the teasing when she found Duncan's shield in Denerim.
Men were still cleaning up from the darkspawn attack the morning before, and she returned most of the greetings she got. She was stopped by Wade, who she hadn't known relocated, and he asked her how the armor was handling. Only Wade would think of gifting armor made with the scales of the archdemon to the Hero of Ferelden, but she would admit he had done a wonderful job. Even if the armor was a little bit too flashy to her. But she'd worn it, partly to honor him and partly because she was proud she was vanquisher of the archdemon. Or, well, it's body. The Old God's soul was with Morrigan. Elissa still didn't know what to feel about that.
It only took a few minutes for her to get away from Wade, who was still as excited as ever, and it was then she took a breath and put on her Warden Commander mask, because she would need it. She had seen her father deal with prisoners and was aware it was not a pleasant task, even if it had to be done. She entered the dungeon, listened to the report of the guard on duty, then thanked him as she strode forward.
When she saw who it was, though, her blood ran cold and she hesitated midstep. She turned back to the guard, some brown hair getting in her face, and said, "Please tell Seneschal Varel to come here. Immediately." The guard bowed before leaving, and she waited until he was gone before she turned back, brushed her hair -- longer than she'd worn it during the Blight, mostly because she had had no need to cut it at Court, but was probably going to need to soon -- out of her eyes, and sent him a look. A look that he probably remembered from whenever she thought he did something stupid. She was sure the look hadn't changed. She'd had need of it a lot,especially in regards to the antics of Oghren and Zevran.
She made this noise -- one of immeasurable frustration -- and massaged her temples before looking at him again, this time trying to fight the look. She was sure there was still something not exactly peasant in her brown eyes, but she'd never had that much composure. She was a much better Warden than a noble, but she supposed all Couslands had been firey. Her mother for sure, but she quickly squashed the thoughts. She was dealing with a prisoner, not in her room alone, and this was no time for tears.
Elissa was glad that her voice held little but frustration. It was the minor victory of the day. "What are you doing in my dungeon?"