TurtlePrada
Lord of Altera
[=-=]
[=-=]
Name: Hanns
Other Names: [-]
Titles: [-]
[=-=]
Name: Hanns
Other Names: [-]
Titles: [-]
Age:
Race:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Current Residence:
Relationship Status:
Social Status:
Race:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Current Residence:
Relationship Status:
Social Status:
GENERAL INFORMATION
Height: Weight:
Date of Birth:
Date of Death:
Homeland:
Current Home:
---
PHYSIOLOGY
Build: Hair:
Eyes:
Skin:
Identifying Marks:
Appearance:
Clothing:
Weaponry:
Prized Possessions:
Hygiene:
---
QUALITIES AND FLAWS
Strengths:Fears:
Weaknesses:
Intelligence:
Languages:
Profession:
---
ETHICS AND MOTIVATIONS:
Personality:
Religion or Cults:
Alignment:
Short Term Goals:
Long Term Goals:
---
TRIVIA
Favourite... Place:
Pastime:
Food:
Drink:
Colour:
Animal:
---
Least Favourite...
Place:
Pastime:
Food:
Drink:
Colour:
Animal:
BACKSTORY
I remember her as a time of day, a time when, raising me- with wide brown eyes and fat curls and longbow lips- I saw freedom in a harvest sun. I knew her, too, but not in the way most sons do. I know the way she spoke- lively, bowing her head in curt, reassuring little nods so you'd know she was listening, the thick strength of her waist and the way it heaved when she laughed (and the hand-clasp that always followed), that exotic bird-in-flight that formed where her eyebrows met when she was thinking, the wild gestures of her hands. They were always in motion- calloused, plump- and when she spoke, she used them, sometimes bunched together at her waist, the fingers the pistons in some machine of her expression. She'd meandering eyes, brown and opaque and searching and a bit calculating, too, and they'd that look- a spirit, I think- the kind that's already left on some journey to a place glimpsed peripherally, a place my father couldn't see.
My father. Besides that neutral expression he always wore when he was alone- the slits of his eyes bordered by the dainty etchings of crows feet, peeking out past the straight of his nose- my father had two others, forward and reverse, that he liked to use for all his dealings. His forward look was that of steady purpose like the advance of a heavy wagon, overloaded but nearly there, turning not left or right but rather as the road did, led by the mule, the reigns slack in his hand.
i will FINISH LATER
Last edited:
