Post by Beriadan on Jun 9, 2023 20:33:36 GMT
CORE INFO
Name
Turf
Alias(es)
The Thousand-Faced Grifter [by herself]
The Swift-Fingered Pickpocket [by herself]
The Charming Rogue [by herself]
The Marquis of the Underworld [by herself]
Thief (as in, Hey, you! Stop, thief!) [by everyone else]
Gender
Female
Age
34
APPEARANCE
Physical Traits
Turf is a wirey girl with lean muscle over a body that appears just on the wrong side of thin. Just looking at her can tell you she skirts past the boundary of eating too little and running away too much. Still, her body is athletic, toned with the right gear to scale tall fences, run fast over short distances and weave like a fleeing cat from whoever might be chasing them (which, usually, could be anyone and everyone).
Her skin is olive, covered in interesting and striking tattoos. Turf is proud of her inked artwork, which range from silvery symbols and shapes that spread across her skin, to block colour stretches that sit bold against the rest. She has a few scars to speak of, from her younger days when she wasn't quite quick enough to evade a blade, but mostly, save for her tattoos, Turf has an unblemished body.
Her features are bold, an expressive face that can charm anyone that lays eyes on it. Turf has trained her facial muscles to create expressions that can tug at even the coldest heartstrings, or trick the most perceptive gazes. Her thick eyebrows are constantly on the move, her slender nose twitching non-stop, her lips moving with an ease that comes from spewing lies and slander at every possible moment.
Turf keeps everything neat, trim and tucked, including her mousey hair. Cut short and messy, she sculpted it especially to avoid being grapped by errant hands, to avoid catching on tight spaces and generally not getting in her way when she's trying to evade capture. Incidently, it is very useful when tucking into a variety of wigs, hats, hoods and covers that she employs in her day-to-day grifting adventures.
Finally, those eyes. Turf's eyes are perhaps the most striking thing abut her. A piercing green, the colour of summer grass on a bright day. They are the eyes of someone always on the run, who has had to watch everyone coming her way and see if there is a knife with her name on it flashing towards her gut. Eyes that see everything in her vicinity, that watch for movements in the shadows or a copper in the crowd. Turf's emerald eyes are the two main things that have got her this far, that meant she could survive this long in the streets of Lanturn.
Clothes/Style
Turf wears a variety of clothes, never sticking to one colour, theme, pattern or item. She changes clothes like a nun changes habits, slipping into costumes as the situation changes around her, whether she needs to stand out, slip into a crowd or even take the guise of someone specific.
PERSONALITY
Outer Persona
Charming. Witty. Turf has a silver tongue that she wields with expertise. Words are her weapons, her shield and her armour, dancing out of her mouth and twisting the perception of others around her in moments. She is a cheeky scamp with a cheeky grin, a wink and a nudge, presenting herself as an entertaining whirlwind of a person. Turf's eyes are always darting, moving, finding weak points and exposed parts (wallets, expensive items, you name it). She loves the game, the dance of selling something on one hand and pinching someone's property with the other. The last thing people usually see, after a wink and a grin, is the back of Turf's head, not knowing that their cash is stuffed into her shirt or down her pants, disappearing into the crowd for good.
Inner Persona
Who has time to trust anyone? Turf has never had the opportunity to find out what her personality is like when around "friends" or "companions, as she has never had anything like that.
Core
Turf is constantly on edge. Her nerves are strung so highly that they could be played like a lute, and her eyes are darting to every movement, each shadow and shade. She trusts nobody, keeping herself to herself, a lone warrior amongst an ocean of enemies. Of course, her actions don't help that, but she is locked mentally into a rolling world of crime. Turf's inner voice always speaks of a way out, to slip from her guise as Turf and become someone, anyone else, but it is a quiet whisper against the roar of her paranoia.
BACKGROUND
Summary
A talented grifter on the run who joined the Hunters to evade her pursuers.
History
Turf spent her young years alone, scrounging for herself on the streets, stealing what she needed to survive and always keeping one step ahead from those who tried to chase her. This behaviour became ingrained, a way of life, and she entered her teenage years wanting more. She grifted and stole as she went, starting small with petty theft and pickpocketing, but moving into grander things. Turf found that she could play people like a fiddle, changing her guise from street to street and crafting stories to draw in crowds, then slipping through with money and wallets in her grasp. She could weave a story to people before her, selling snake oil or crafty card games, everything she could do to distract and divert attention.
In her twenties, Turf got into her stride, and it became more habit than actual survivalship. She even gave away most of her stolen wealth to the orphans on the streets, keeping little for herself and inadvertently giving back to the community around her. Turf didn't do it for a good feeling, however, or for a warmth in her chest. She wasn't interested in the money, just the adrenaline rush that came with the role, with the grift.
However, she eventually crossed the wrong victims. Turf would avoid the gangs of the street as best she could, but her first ended up being the most dangerous. Stealing money from a powerful gang leader's right hand man... it wasn't a good move. Turf was on the run, unable to stop as they hounded her through Lantern. Eventually she saw a way out! A poster, advertising people to come and become a Hunter for the Crown. Seeing it as an escape from the gang chasing her, Turf took the opportunity, applying herself to be a Hunter... while crafting a way out as soon as she could.
Name
Turf
Alias(es)
The Thousand-Faced Grifter [by herself]
The Swift-Fingered Pickpocket [by herself]
The Charming Rogue [by herself]
The Marquis of the Underworld [by herself]
Thief (as in, Hey, you! Stop, thief!) [by everyone else]
Gender
Female
Age
34
APPEARANCE
Physical Traits
Turf is a wirey girl with lean muscle over a body that appears just on the wrong side of thin. Just looking at her can tell you she skirts past the boundary of eating too little and running away too much. Still, her body is athletic, toned with the right gear to scale tall fences, run fast over short distances and weave like a fleeing cat from whoever might be chasing them (which, usually, could be anyone and everyone).
Her skin is olive, covered in interesting and striking tattoos. Turf is proud of her inked artwork, which range from silvery symbols and shapes that spread across her skin, to block colour stretches that sit bold against the rest. She has a few scars to speak of, from her younger days when she wasn't quite quick enough to evade a blade, but mostly, save for her tattoos, Turf has an unblemished body.
Her features are bold, an expressive face that can charm anyone that lays eyes on it. Turf has trained her facial muscles to create expressions that can tug at even the coldest heartstrings, or trick the most perceptive gazes. Her thick eyebrows are constantly on the move, her slender nose twitching non-stop, her lips moving with an ease that comes from spewing lies and slander at every possible moment.
Turf keeps everything neat, trim and tucked, including her mousey hair. Cut short and messy, she sculpted it especially to avoid being grapped by errant hands, to avoid catching on tight spaces and generally not getting in her way when she's trying to evade capture. Incidently, it is very useful when tucking into a variety of wigs, hats, hoods and covers that she employs in her day-to-day grifting adventures.
Finally, those eyes. Turf's eyes are perhaps the most striking thing abut her. A piercing green, the colour of summer grass on a bright day. They are the eyes of someone always on the run, who has had to watch everyone coming her way and see if there is a knife with her name on it flashing towards her gut. Eyes that see everything in her vicinity, that watch for movements in the shadows or a copper in the crowd. Turf's emerald eyes are the two main things that have got her this far, that meant she could survive this long in the streets of Lanturn.
Clothes/Style
Turf wears a variety of clothes, never sticking to one colour, theme, pattern or item. She changes clothes like a nun changes habits, slipping into costumes as the situation changes around her, whether she needs to stand out, slip into a crowd or even take the guise of someone specific.
PERSONALITY
Outer Persona
Charming. Witty. Turf has a silver tongue that she wields with expertise. Words are her weapons, her shield and her armour, dancing out of her mouth and twisting the perception of others around her in moments. She is a cheeky scamp with a cheeky grin, a wink and a nudge, presenting herself as an entertaining whirlwind of a person. Turf's eyes are always darting, moving, finding weak points and exposed parts (wallets, expensive items, you name it). She loves the game, the dance of selling something on one hand and pinching someone's property with the other. The last thing people usually see, after a wink and a grin, is the back of Turf's head, not knowing that their cash is stuffed into her shirt or down her pants, disappearing into the crowd for good.
Inner Persona
Who has time to trust anyone? Turf has never had the opportunity to find out what her personality is like when around "friends" or "companions, as she has never had anything like that.
Core
Turf is constantly on edge. Her nerves are strung so highly that they could be played like a lute, and her eyes are darting to every movement, each shadow and shade. She trusts nobody, keeping herself to herself, a lone warrior amongst an ocean of enemies. Of course, her actions don't help that, but she is locked mentally into a rolling world of crime. Turf's inner voice always speaks of a way out, to slip from her guise as Turf and become someone, anyone else, but it is a quiet whisper against the roar of her paranoia.
BACKGROUND
Summary
A talented grifter on the run who joined the Hunters to evade her pursuers.
History
Turf spent her young years alone, scrounging for herself on the streets, stealing what she needed to survive and always keeping one step ahead from those who tried to chase her. This behaviour became ingrained, a way of life, and she entered her teenage years wanting more. She grifted and stole as she went, starting small with petty theft and pickpocketing, but moving into grander things. Turf found that she could play people like a fiddle, changing her guise from street to street and crafting stories to draw in crowds, then slipping through with money and wallets in her grasp. She could weave a story to people before her, selling snake oil or crafty card games, everything she could do to distract and divert attention.
In her twenties, Turf got into her stride, and it became more habit than actual survivalship. She even gave away most of her stolen wealth to the orphans on the streets, keeping little for herself and inadvertently giving back to the community around her. Turf didn't do it for a good feeling, however, or for a warmth in her chest. She wasn't interested in the money, just the adrenaline rush that came with the role, with the grift.
However, she eventually crossed the wrong victims. Turf would avoid the gangs of the street as best she could, but her first ended up being the most dangerous. Stealing money from a powerful gang leader's right hand man... it wasn't a good move. Turf was on the run, unable to stop as they hounded her through Lantern. Eventually she saw a way out! A poster, advertising people to come and become a Hunter for the Crown. Seeing it as an escape from the gang chasing her, Turf took the opportunity, applying herself to be a Hunter... while crafting a way out as soon as she could.
