an advanced play-by-post realistic wolf roleplay
NORTHOFNOWHERE


FONTAINE, MANON
#1
OOC Name: Bean
Other Characters: N/A

Character's Name: Manon Fontaine
Age: 3
Gender: Female
Affiliation: Lone
Place of Birth: Native

Natives:
- What region was your character born into? Do they still live there or did they leave there, and why?
( upon the borders of the Grasslands and the forest where the river flows )
↠ A child of the forest, she was born in darkness with earth upon her body and the rushing of water in her ears. For as long as she can remember, her home has been amongst the leaves, shrouded by branches; the notion of leaving has never occurred to her. Until now, that is.

- What is your character’s initial opinions, or thoughts, about outsiders being allowed into Elsynia?
↠ She cares little for the comings-and-goings of Elsynia for so long as the events do not bother her, she is more or less alright. Having lived in the forest for all of her life, the idea of outsiders isn't really one that has crossed her mind. However, with new experiences, there may be new opinions depending on each encounter.

Outsiders:
N/A

Roleplay Sample: from a different site of mine! (i wrote this with lowercases for the aesthetic, but i will write with correctly capitalised words for everything else, if required)

sun shines through glass, casting a shadow of gold upon dark wood, illuminating the sitting figure. a gentle gust of warm wind draws out a creak of rusted window hinges and a soft rustle of paper. faint but rapid clicks of inked metal taps in a disjointed cadence, stopping and starting spasmodically; each leaving an imprint of black upon white, irreversible and eternal. words form upon the paper, imagination transmuting into reality by slender fingers as they press on lettered keys with a certainty. the one who sits immersed in her work looks no older than twenty, though one would guess wrong if they said so. pale pink hair curls atop an elegant neck, cream cashmere resting on thin shoulders; one leg is pulled up against the writer's chest, a small chin resting on top. half-lidded eyes tinted with rose stare intensely at the sentences she gradually forms.

ding!

she is roused out of her focused stupor, a yawn crawling out of the writer's mouth as she lifts her arms above her head, arching her back as she stretches. Blinking languidly, the pair of rhodochrosite re-read the sentence she'd typed slowly, letting the words roll by in her mind one by one. it displeases her. taking a cup of tea that had sat previously forgotten beside the typewriter, she sips from it gently, frowning and letting her mind expose what she needed to fix. sighing and rolling her eyes in exasperation, her shoulder blades hit the back rest, a nimble hand coming up to push at her temple.

how troublesome.

a much colder breeze suddenly brushes against her cheek, caressing it with abrupt ice. light fades from the room and the words on the page become harder to see. ah, so the sun had begun its descent. pursing coral lips, trepidation curls itself around her heart; there is still a promise she needs to fulfil before the evening. picking up a quill, she marks a red dot beside the sentence and pushes the platen back to the left, beginning a fresh line. without much further hindrance, she begins typing again.
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