Post by Expresso Constance on Jun 9, 2007 13:31:12 GMT -5
Name: Mortel Al-Shaharizad Sinneau
Age: Early Twenties
Gender: Female
Allegiance: Of Death...The Flying Dutchman is her life.
Occupation: Mercenary, sometimes prostituting herself
Weapon of Choice: Seduction, her broadswords.
Home Town/Island: Casablanca, Arabia
Ship: The Dutchman...Duh Der.
Appearance: She's got flowing blonde hair, striking crimson eyes, and a body to match that wild beauty of hers, though her personality is a major turn-off to anyone looking. She is covered with battlescars, some more recent than others and always has a bit of blood on her. She wears clothing that always flatters her, not to mention her shining silver English spurs.
Personality: She's a snappy, rebellious female who doesn't listen to anyone unless forced. In her opinion, she's leading the show and she's always right. Basically, she's arrogant, cruel, and a top class bitch. She is a cold hearted monster, some say. Others think she does it for fun. But none really know what to expect from her.
History: She was born in Arabia to an extremely wealthy family, but she had come too soon. She was considered a whelp, but enjoyed playing with the royal stock of Arabian horses. When she was six, Shetan was born, and she had trained and worked with him until she was eight, with her exile sharp in her mind. She escaped with the young colt, and rode him for the first time, bareback, down the beach, and onto a ship leaving Casablanca, her home for a while. She then headed for the Caribbean, Port Royal, to start a riding career there. She learned how to ride English and learned how to jump fences.
When she was thirteen, her father had tracked her down and had captured Shetan to bring him back for a big race from hearing her wins in the Jumper circuit. She was distraught. When she was sixteen, she willingly gave herself to Davy Jones to aid him in bringing down her father, since they shared that same burning hatred for Skyla. She had killed him, but her horse was somewhere in Mexico by the time she had finished there. She had failed. Though she still stays with the Dutchman for reasons unknown to man and beast alike.
Other: She rides horses in the Hunter and Pleasure circuts in the Caribbean shows.
Roleplay Sample: The battle cries filled the night as blood stained lips parted. Another killing. This is how she used to work. But that love for the thrill of battle slowly drew her back, and her crimson eyes narrowed in determination as several others approached her. She used broadswords, a pair of swords. But she was missing something. Her big black stallion, which gave her the nickname The Black. She used to ride hard into battle with a black cloak hiding her body, and a black stallion underneath her.
But that all changed. She was now on the Dutchman, doing away with several curious children who had wandered to close. She smirked. Her work here was done. But meanwhile, back to her. She was a beauty with golden blonde locks and haunting crimson eyes. Today, she wore a black vest, a white blouse, black breeches, black boots, and spurs. Just in case that certain riding oppertunity came up.
Her heritage was of French Arabian lines. Her father being ruthless and destructive, her mother being a beauty. She was an exiled Princess. She had came into life too soon for her parents' liking. So they got rid of her. She snorted softly. Her name was Mortel. It meant deadly in French. Suited her, am I correct?
Age: Early Twenties
Gender: Female
Allegiance: Of Death...The Flying Dutchman is her life.
Occupation: Mercenary, sometimes prostituting herself
Weapon of Choice: Seduction, her broadswords.
Home Town/Island: Casablanca, Arabia
Ship: The Dutchman...Duh Der.
Appearance: She's got flowing blonde hair, striking crimson eyes, and a body to match that wild beauty of hers, though her personality is a major turn-off to anyone looking. She is covered with battlescars, some more recent than others and always has a bit of blood on her. She wears clothing that always flatters her, not to mention her shining silver English spurs.
Personality: She's a snappy, rebellious female who doesn't listen to anyone unless forced. In her opinion, she's leading the show and she's always right. Basically, she's arrogant, cruel, and a top class bitch. She is a cold hearted monster, some say. Others think she does it for fun. But none really know what to expect from her.
History: She was born in Arabia to an extremely wealthy family, but she had come too soon. She was considered a whelp, but enjoyed playing with the royal stock of Arabian horses. When she was six, Shetan was born, and she had trained and worked with him until she was eight, with her exile sharp in her mind. She escaped with the young colt, and rode him for the first time, bareback, down the beach, and onto a ship leaving Casablanca, her home for a while. She then headed for the Caribbean, Port Royal, to start a riding career there. She learned how to ride English and learned how to jump fences.
When she was thirteen, her father had tracked her down and had captured Shetan to bring him back for a big race from hearing her wins in the Jumper circuit. She was distraught. When she was sixteen, she willingly gave herself to Davy Jones to aid him in bringing down her father, since they shared that same burning hatred for Skyla. She had killed him, but her horse was somewhere in Mexico by the time she had finished there. She had failed. Though she still stays with the Dutchman for reasons unknown to man and beast alike.
Other: She rides horses in the Hunter and Pleasure circuts in the Caribbean shows.
Roleplay Sample: The battle cries filled the night as blood stained lips parted. Another killing. This is how she used to work. But that love for the thrill of battle slowly drew her back, and her crimson eyes narrowed in determination as several others approached her. She used broadswords, a pair of swords. But she was missing something. Her big black stallion, which gave her the nickname The Black. She used to ride hard into battle with a black cloak hiding her body, and a black stallion underneath her.
But that all changed. She was now on the Dutchman, doing away with several curious children who had wandered to close. She smirked. Her work here was done. But meanwhile, back to her. She was a beauty with golden blonde locks and haunting crimson eyes. Today, she wore a black vest, a white blouse, black breeches, black boots, and spurs. Just in case that certain riding oppertunity came up.
Her heritage was of French Arabian lines. Her father being ruthless and destructive, her mother being a beauty. She was an exiled Princess. She had came into life too soon for her parents' liking. So they got rid of her. She snorted softly. Her name was Mortel. It meant deadly in French. Suited her, am I correct?
