Post by +~*Snowy*~+ on Feb 28, 2010 17:21:27 GMT -5
Name: Casey Freud
Gender: Male
Age: 8 years old
Type: Palace dishwasher
Home: A room in the palace. It used to be his mother's room, so everything is where she'd left it before she died. That includes the porcelain pokemon figurines, the lace table covers, all her jewelry and make-up as well as her clothes, and even the the hair in her hairbrush. The bathroom is small, but the room's window overlooks the town.
Picture: None
Description: Casey is a small boy of eight-years old. He has pale blue eyes and short brown hair which is very thick and soft. He still has a round, childish face and big, innocent eyes that have a depth of sadness in them. The boy is always seen wearing clothes that almost seem too small for him. They're patched in many places from all the tears he'd put in them because of the mismatched size but he refuses to wear anything other than his old clothing. Casey is also tends to wears a dull, faded brown coat, no matter the weather or temperature and he won't let anyone else wash his clothes.
Personality: Casey is extremely introverted and shy. The boy hardly ever speaks and never smiles. He works in the palace kitchens washing the delicate china plates by hand, for anything else would surely damage the kitchenware. He avoids human interaction whenever possible, sometimes even outright ignores people. He's sad and very shy and not quite sure how to interact with people. Casey doesn't want to get emotionally close to anyone because he's afraid of coming out of his emotionless shell. The boy is much more content to go through the motions of living rather than truly living and having to deal with emotions like joy or sorrow.
History: Casey used to be such a lively young boy. He was always smiling and laughing with his mother, whom he loved more than anyone else. Maria Freud was a palace maid and a single mother. Casey had never met his father, but he never asked about him either, for his mother was all that he needed. He stuck to her and followed her everywhere and rarely interacted with anyone else without his mother's coaxing. She was a kind and loving soul who dearly loved Casey and he loved her back.
All happiness must have a price, however. Her death was sudden and unexpected. An armed robber tried to steal the money from a shop Maria was in. She jumped in front of the cashier before he was shot and took the bullet for him. She died bleeding on the floor as the man made his escape. Casey was 4-years old when it happened and it was one of the only times he was away from his mother. Ever since that day he'd withdrew from the world.
Even though a friend of his mother's takes care of him, he refuses to live in her room and refuses to wear new clothes. Casey will only wear clothes that his mother had given him. He fears the world outside the palace, to him it is only the place where his mother died. He also thinks that him not being with her that day made her die, in his own 4-year old rationality. He had no other friend but his mother, and now that she's gone he doesn't know how to live anymore. He just does everything he can to make himself useful around the palace in hopes that they won't send him to an orphanage.
Pokemon: None
Other: He hasn't interacted with pokemon before, so he doesn't quite know how to interact with them. They're not like people, but they're not entirely animals, so he's a bit more open to them. Maybe
RP Example: A young boy stood on a tall stool in front of a sink. The counter was stacked with fine porcelain plates and bowls, and the sink was filled with warm, soapy water. Slowly, rhythmically, the boy scrubbed the plates, his hand moving in deliberate circles. The sponge and soap washed off all the food particles sticking to the plate, making it shine once more. Shifting to the side a little, he handed the plate to another person, this one much older and taller. The man carefully took the plate to begin drying it and for the briefest of moments, their fingers brushed. The young boy cringed and his face squeezed up in discomfort. The other man's hand was soft and warm, but the physical closeness itself made his body tense. Releasing his grip on the plate, the boy on the stool began washing another one, but all through the evening his shoulders remain bunched, as if trying to make himself as small as he could. Maybe then he could more effectively pretend that no one else in the world was alive but him. It was so much easier to go through life when you believed no one else could see you.
Gender: Male
Age: 8 years old
Type: Palace dishwasher
Home: A room in the palace. It used to be his mother's room, so everything is where she'd left it before she died. That includes the porcelain pokemon figurines, the lace table covers, all her jewelry and make-up as well as her clothes, and even the the hair in her hairbrush. The bathroom is small, but the room's window overlooks the town.
Picture: None
Description: Casey is a small boy of eight-years old. He has pale blue eyes and short brown hair which is very thick and soft. He still has a round, childish face and big, innocent eyes that have a depth of sadness in them. The boy is always seen wearing clothes that almost seem too small for him. They're patched in many places from all the tears he'd put in them because of the mismatched size but he refuses to wear anything other than his old clothing. Casey is also tends to wears a dull, faded brown coat, no matter the weather or temperature and he won't let anyone else wash his clothes.
Personality: Casey is extremely introverted and shy. The boy hardly ever speaks and never smiles. He works in the palace kitchens washing the delicate china plates by hand, for anything else would surely damage the kitchenware. He avoids human interaction whenever possible, sometimes even outright ignores people. He's sad and very shy and not quite sure how to interact with people. Casey doesn't want to get emotionally close to anyone because he's afraid of coming out of his emotionless shell. The boy is much more content to go through the motions of living rather than truly living and having to deal with emotions like joy or sorrow.
History: Casey used to be such a lively young boy. He was always smiling and laughing with his mother, whom he loved more than anyone else. Maria Freud was a palace maid and a single mother. Casey had never met his father, but he never asked about him either, for his mother was all that he needed. He stuck to her and followed her everywhere and rarely interacted with anyone else without his mother's coaxing. She was a kind and loving soul who dearly loved Casey and he loved her back.
All happiness must have a price, however. Her death was sudden and unexpected. An armed robber tried to steal the money from a shop Maria was in. She jumped in front of the cashier before he was shot and took the bullet for him. She died bleeding on the floor as the man made his escape. Casey was 4-years old when it happened and it was one of the only times he was away from his mother. Ever since that day he'd withdrew from the world.
Even though a friend of his mother's takes care of him, he refuses to live in her room and refuses to wear new clothes. Casey will only wear clothes that his mother had given him. He fears the world outside the palace, to him it is only the place where his mother died. He also thinks that him not being with her that day made her die, in his own 4-year old rationality. He had no other friend but his mother, and now that she's gone he doesn't know how to live anymore. He just does everything he can to make himself useful around the palace in hopes that they won't send him to an orphanage.
Pokemon: None
Other: He hasn't interacted with pokemon before, so he doesn't quite know how to interact with them. They're not like people, but they're not entirely animals, so he's a bit more open to them. Maybe
RP Example: A young boy stood on a tall stool in front of a sink. The counter was stacked with fine porcelain plates and bowls, and the sink was filled with warm, soapy water. Slowly, rhythmically, the boy scrubbed the plates, his hand moving in deliberate circles. The sponge and soap washed off all the food particles sticking to the plate, making it shine once more. Shifting to the side a little, he handed the plate to another person, this one much older and taller. The man carefully took the plate to begin drying it and for the briefest of moments, their fingers brushed. The young boy cringed and his face squeezed up in discomfort. The other man's hand was soft and warm, but the physical closeness itself made his body tense. Releasing his grip on the plate, the boy on the stool began washing another one, but all through the evening his shoulders remain bunched, as if trying to make himself as small as he could. Maybe then he could more effectively pretend that no one else in the world was alive but him. It was so much easier to go through life when you believed no one else could see you.
