| Subject: :-:Illness Illusion:-: |
Author:
Collan
|
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Date Posted: 15:59:36 03/11/03 Tue
Author Host/IP: cs2417574-154.houston.rr.com/24.175.74.154
Name: Collan Rosvenir
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Personality: Shy, uneasy around strangers. It's rather difficult to gain his trust, but you wouldn't receive more loyalty from a dog.
Likes: Music (mainly J-rock), food, weapons.
Dislikes: Extremely feminine women, children, dogs, sweets.
Physical: Tall, pale skin, black hair, green eyes. He usually wears longsleeved shirts and one very old black trenchcoat. (Also has scars on chest, back, and arms.)
Mental: Not insane enough to be locked in a padded room, but still a little off. Past bad experiences left him with a fear of drowning, hospitals, crucifixion, spiders, and most of all fires. Other than that he randomly suffers from mood swings. You'd think he was female. O.o
Bio: Shh, 'tis a secret.
Lint, useful for absolutely nothing other than letting you know that you're broke. Again. The weight of his bag was notably lighter today, also a sure sign that you're broke. He didn't mind much, the lighter the load the further he could travel. It'd been days since he left the last town and another was due any day. Collan was usually patient, but... But i'm hungry, and tired, not to mention in need of a nice bath, he thought bitterly. What he wouldn't give for an inn. Or, conveniently, a farm. It looked well cared for, good sign, and the people looked hospitable enough, also a good sign. He straightened his unruly raven black hair, one of his best features when it was tamed, and approached. Busy place. No one seemed to care much that he was there, so he found a nice tree to sit under. The shade was nice, refreshing. How tempting it was to just fall alseep right there, but a subconsious voice nagged at him. So he settled for just resting, content.
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