Post by Hannah on Jun 17, 2007 21:52:40 GMT -5
Name:
Allen Jung - "And before you say it, it's pronounced Young..."
Age:
23
Gender:
Male
Allegiance:
Navy turned Pirate
Occupation:
"Been a captain for about a year now, really."
Weapon of choice:
Sword
Home Town/Island:
Port Royal
Ship:
The Maverick
Appearance:
Physically, the man's not much to look at - "Hey now!" - Shh! ... but he's not horrible, either. Right about at average, we'll say. His hair is a brownish-blackish-red color that drops down to about his chin. A little wavy, too, and around his head and under his oddly-colored... What's another word for hair?
"Don't think there is one, really."
... Right. Well under that and around his forehead (picture a sweat band here. Or Tracy from Pokemon) is a navy bandana. His eyes? They're just brown. Like I said, he's average.... But at least he's tall, eh?
Anyway, the 'coat' Allen wears is an old, ratty-looking admiral's jacket and under that is an overly large, white shirt, splatter painted with blood and sea salt. The pants match the jacket (they're navy, boys and girls), and ripped and mangled beyond all repair. But they're the only ones he can really afford - "... I hate you." - That's my job, love... Anyway, like I said, they're the only ones he can really afford, so for that, he did good.
And I think I better wrap this up before the lad comes to his senses and shoots me...
On his feet are a pair of black boots, scuffed and well worn-in, but if one ever thinks to take off the right one, they'll see the shackle part of a ball and chain. Allen's belt matches his footwear and comes equip with removable sword, dagger, and pistol.
Oh. And did I tell you the man was branded? Well, he is, unfortunately, and above that, on his right forearm is his signature tattoo; a snake entwined in a pair of handcuffs.
Personality:
"Alright, she, and of course I mean Hannah, is getting on my last nerve so...
"I'll be your pilot for the rest of this flight."
But you live in the eighteenth century. You don't know about plane's ye-
"Shuttup!"
Bloody. Pirates...
"Anyway, I'm usually not this uptight, she's just annoying. Ha ha! Usually, when you first meet me, I'm not all that talkative. - You might say I'm more of a listening type. - But once you get to know me, I'm really not all that bad. Just a normal, fun-loving, slightly-sarcastic-when-I-wanna-be pirate.
"What else do you need to know?"
History:
"Oh wow. Where do I begin?
"I guess with a look into my childhood, eh? Alright then. When I was little - and I do mean little - my parents and I lived in a small house somewhere around Port Royal. My dad was a farmer (name was William). Mom (I always called her Lady) worked at home. All that good stuff.
"I'm not sure, but I think they're still alive.
"When I turned sixteen, I joined the navy (I was lower than the lowest rank imaginable, but whatever. I still got in and I was happy) and... everything pretty much spiraled from there. I became a naval officer when I was 21, and six months later, I decided to quit the navy and become a pirate. That ended... badly.
"People found out about my decision to convert religion (and I only say that because I found out the hard way that that really is how seriously these people take it) and shortly after I was... thrown... in... jail."
AND BRANDED!
"Yeah... And branded, but that's not... really important. Anyway, that's how I got my ankle bracelet."
UGH! You take too long to tell stories. This is my plane now.
"I suggest you grab your ankles and kiss your ass goodbye..."
... OH! I'm ready for it. Come on BRIIING IT.
Anyway, to wrap up his story, he was busted outta jail on the eve of his half-birthday, sailed to Tortuga, got himself a random (and I do mean random) tattoo, and is now 23 and captain of the Maverick.
END!
Other:
Alright, so for those of you that've noticed, there have been a lot of Snakes on a Plane references. That's because when I created this character....
I pictured William Beckett. XD
Roleplay Sample:
"So there I was. Locked in an epic staring contest. When suddenly-"
Boom!
The hand motions and intense story-telling stopped as soon as the cannonball flew over his head and into the bartender. What was his name? Steve? Owen?
Oh well. It didn't matter. But was did matter was that he who never spoke to strangers. He who rarely got drunk. He who had bought a round of drinks for nearly everyone in the bar that night had gotten into one of the greatest and most entertaining stories this side of the WORLD... and someone had decided to blow apart his hangout.
That really figures, eh?
A pale hand reached for a silver-handled sword as Captain Allen Jung stood up from his table and turned to face the new-found disaster. It wasn't like him to seek revenge for something as frivolous as blowing up a tavern, but in the dim light and smoke-filled air that made up Sam & Michael's Drunken Donkey (he didn't understand the name, either)... well... Let's just say he wasn't really in the mood to act himself.
Dark eyes scanned his surroundings for a glimpse of his enemies. The crowd of people he had actually been talking to fell silent. And when he and his rival were finally locked in combat, the pirate captain only had one thing left to say.
"Bring it."
Recruited By:
I have. No idea. o.o
Allen Jung - "And before you say it, it's pronounced Young..."
Age:
23
Gender:
Male
Allegiance:
Navy turned Pirate
Occupation:
"Been a captain for about a year now, really."
Weapon of choice:
Sword
Home Town/Island:
Port Royal
Ship:
The Maverick
Appearance:
Physically, the man's not much to look at - "Hey now!" - Shh! ... but he's not horrible, either. Right about at average, we'll say. His hair is a brownish-blackish-red color that drops down to about his chin. A little wavy, too, and around his head and under his oddly-colored... What's another word for hair?
"Don't think there is one, really."
... Right. Well under that and around his forehead (picture a sweat band here. Or Tracy from Pokemon) is a navy bandana. His eyes? They're just brown. Like I said, he's average.... But at least he's tall, eh?
Anyway, the 'coat' Allen wears is an old, ratty-looking admiral's jacket and under that is an overly large, white shirt, splatter painted with blood and sea salt. The pants match the jacket (they're navy, boys and girls), and ripped and mangled beyond all repair. But they're the only ones he can really afford - "... I hate you." - That's my job, love... Anyway, like I said, they're the only ones he can really afford, so for that, he did good.
And I think I better wrap this up before the lad comes to his senses and shoots me...
On his feet are a pair of black boots, scuffed and well worn-in, but if one ever thinks to take off the right one, they'll see the shackle part of a ball and chain. Allen's belt matches his footwear and comes equip with removable sword, dagger, and pistol.
Oh. And did I tell you the man was branded? Well, he is, unfortunately, and above that, on his right forearm is his signature tattoo; a snake entwined in a pair of handcuffs.
Personality:
"Alright, she, and of course I mean Hannah, is getting on my last nerve so...
"I'll be your pilot for the rest of this flight."
But you live in the eighteenth century. You don't know about plane's ye-
"Shuttup!"
Bloody. Pirates...
"Anyway, I'm usually not this uptight, she's just annoying. Ha ha! Usually, when you first meet me, I'm not all that talkative. - You might say I'm more of a listening type. - But once you get to know me, I'm really not all that bad. Just a normal, fun-loving, slightly-sarcastic-when-I-wanna-be pirate.
"What else do you need to know?"
History:
"Oh wow. Where do I begin?
"I guess with a look into my childhood, eh? Alright then. When I was little - and I do mean little - my parents and I lived in a small house somewhere around Port Royal. My dad was a farmer (name was William). Mom (I always called her Lady) worked at home. All that good stuff.
"I'm not sure, but I think they're still alive.
"When I turned sixteen, I joined the navy (I was lower than the lowest rank imaginable, but whatever. I still got in and I was happy) and... everything pretty much spiraled from there. I became a naval officer when I was 21, and six months later, I decided to quit the navy and become a pirate. That ended... badly.
"People found out about my decision to convert religion (and I only say that because I found out the hard way that that really is how seriously these people take it) and shortly after I was... thrown... in... jail."
AND BRANDED!
"Yeah... And branded, but that's not... really important. Anyway, that's how I got my ankle bracelet."
UGH! You take too long to tell stories. This is my plane now.
"I suggest you grab your ankles and kiss your ass goodbye..."
... OH! I'm ready for it. Come on BRIIING IT.
Anyway, to wrap up his story, he was busted outta jail on the eve of his half-birthday, sailed to Tortuga, got himself a random (and I do mean random) tattoo, and is now 23 and captain of the Maverick.
END!
Other:
Alright, so for those of you that've noticed, there have been a lot of Snakes on a Plane references. That's because when I created this character....
I pictured William Beckett. XD
Roleplay Sample:
"So there I was. Locked in an epic staring contest. When suddenly-"
Boom!
The hand motions and intense story-telling stopped as soon as the cannonball flew over his head and into the bartender. What was his name? Steve? Owen?
Oh well. It didn't matter. But was did matter was that he who never spoke to strangers. He who rarely got drunk. He who had bought a round of drinks for nearly everyone in the bar that night had gotten into one of the greatest and most entertaining stories this side of the WORLD... and someone had decided to blow apart his hangout.
That really figures, eh?
A pale hand reached for a silver-handled sword as Captain Allen Jung stood up from his table and turned to face the new-found disaster. It wasn't like him to seek revenge for something as frivolous as blowing up a tavern, but in the dim light and smoke-filled air that made up Sam & Michael's Drunken Donkey (he didn't understand the name, either)... well... Let's just say he wasn't really in the mood to act himself.
Dark eyes scanned his surroundings for a glimpse of his enemies. The crowd of people he had actually been talking to fell silent. And when he and his rival were finally locked in combat, the pirate captain only had one thing left to say.
"Bring it."
Recruited By:
I have. No idea. o.o
