Post by Fury on Sept 6, 2012 1:03:05 GMT -5
OOC Name: Fury
OOC Gender: Female
IC Name: (real name) Tabbitha Foster - Known as Lady Tanglwyst deHolloway
Character Model: Christina Ricci
Age: 19
Sex: Female
Hair: Dark Brown
Eyes: Amber
Height: 5 foot 5 inches
Weight: 122 pounds
Weapons:
(1) 9mm semi-auto gun - her father’s gun (out of ammo)
(1) Baseball bat
(4) butcher knife (2 in each boot & two strapped to her thighs)
(1) 45 pound recurve bow
(1) Quiver full of arrows
(1) Long sword (obviously made for her)
Armor- 18 steel gage helm, chainmail shirt, leather bikers pants, steel toed boots, armored leather gloves, steel plated leather gorget, Pickle barrel wrapped in black leather chest and back protection, steel plated leather weight lifters belt.
Special Survival Skills:
Archery
Wool Working
Knitting
First Aid/CPR
Hand to hand combat skills
Arrow Making including fletching
Armor making (leather/pickle barrel/Steel)
Charcoal making
Horseback riding
Horseback Archery
Group combat maneuvers and planning
Sewing
Quirks:
She is Firefly quoting, D&D playing, history buffing, belly dancing nut ball of a kid. Quick to smile and toss out a joke. Sometimes she can be a little awkward since she grew up with a cop and their brand of ‘coping humor’. She suffers from a mild allergy to sunlight and breaks out if there is too much exposure, she is has a bigger chance of getting things like heat stroke if not careful. She is also strangely calm in a fight, while there is fear she has an amazing sense of focus and her fighting shows it.
Short Biography:
Small, pale and looks like you could blow her over with a stiff wind but this is nowhere near the case. The young woman before you is full of fire and its shows the second she opens her mouth. She has survived purely by will, luck and her entire lifetime membership in the SCA. Tabbitha suffers from a mild allergy that makes exposure to direct sunlight for a long period of time painful. She is sweet at times but due to her lack of a deep social network outside of the small community she grew up in she can be a bit blunt.
Born to Scott and Val Foster Tabbitha’s upbringing was nothing of real note. Small town where dad was a sheriff and mother was a 3rd grade school teacher. She was not a popular kid but she had a good circle of friends that leaned more on the geeky side. Her days were filled with school work, music lessons and home where her weekends were full of fantasy. If she was not hiding out back with her friends playing D&D she was suited up in armor sparing with her father and his heavy fighting friends or at the archery range. In the summers almost every weekend was filled with camping events. Since the age of 5 she had been suiting up and fighting. At the age of 16 she moved from youth armored combat to the adult leagues. There were times that her small stature made her an easy target but with time and practice she became fast and accurate and that was all one needs to land a good head shot and win.
She could still remember the look in her father’s eyes as he stood in the door way of her bedroom with his service gun in his hands. Tears ran down his face, a face stained with the blood of her mother. He had put her out of her misery and spared her succumbing to a bite and had decided it was best to take out his daughter and then himself rather than see them chased down and served for a meal to the hordes. She stood her ground and said 4 words that saved them both that day “I want to fight!” It was those words that gave her father then strength he needed. She mourned her mother long enough to pack what they needed. She knew while a great wife and mother but nothing not even the most gentle and wonderful of souls could withstand the bite. Her father had delivered a piece of mercy upon his wife and she loved her father for that. After gathering up their tents, armor, weapons, cooking utensils, tanks and weapons they set out try and fight their way north. Her father had made it only a few states before falling to of all things a heart attack while fighting off a pack while trying to gas up. Alone she was now like the few that were struggling to survive running for her life.
OOC Gender: Female
IC Name: (real name) Tabbitha Foster - Known as Lady Tanglwyst deHolloway
Character Model: Christina Ricci
Age: 19
Sex: Female
Hair: Dark Brown
Eyes: Amber
Height: 5 foot 5 inches
Weight: 122 pounds
Weapons:
(1) 9mm semi-auto gun - her father’s gun (out of ammo)
(1) Baseball bat
(4) butcher knife (2 in each boot & two strapped to her thighs)
(1) 45 pound recurve bow
(1) Quiver full of arrows
(1) Long sword (obviously made for her)
Armor- 18 steel gage helm, chainmail shirt, leather bikers pants, steel toed boots, armored leather gloves, steel plated leather gorget, Pickle barrel wrapped in black leather chest and back protection, steel plated leather weight lifters belt.
Special Survival Skills:
Archery
Wool Working
Knitting
First Aid/CPR
Hand to hand combat skills
Arrow Making including fletching
Armor making (leather/pickle barrel/Steel)
Charcoal making
Horseback riding
Horseback Archery
Group combat maneuvers and planning
Sewing
Quirks:
She is Firefly quoting, D&D playing, history buffing, belly dancing nut ball of a kid. Quick to smile and toss out a joke. Sometimes she can be a little awkward since she grew up with a cop and their brand of ‘coping humor’. She suffers from a mild allergy to sunlight and breaks out if there is too much exposure, she is has a bigger chance of getting things like heat stroke if not careful. She is also strangely calm in a fight, while there is fear she has an amazing sense of focus and her fighting shows it.
Short Biography:
Small, pale and looks like you could blow her over with a stiff wind but this is nowhere near the case. The young woman before you is full of fire and its shows the second she opens her mouth. She has survived purely by will, luck and her entire lifetime membership in the SCA. Tabbitha suffers from a mild allergy that makes exposure to direct sunlight for a long period of time painful. She is sweet at times but due to her lack of a deep social network outside of the small community she grew up in she can be a bit blunt.
Born to Scott and Val Foster Tabbitha’s upbringing was nothing of real note. Small town where dad was a sheriff and mother was a 3rd grade school teacher. She was not a popular kid but she had a good circle of friends that leaned more on the geeky side. Her days were filled with school work, music lessons and home where her weekends were full of fantasy. If she was not hiding out back with her friends playing D&D she was suited up in armor sparing with her father and his heavy fighting friends or at the archery range. In the summers almost every weekend was filled with camping events. Since the age of 5 she had been suiting up and fighting. At the age of 16 she moved from youth armored combat to the adult leagues. There were times that her small stature made her an easy target but with time and practice she became fast and accurate and that was all one needs to land a good head shot and win.
She could still remember the look in her father’s eyes as he stood in the door way of her bedroom with his service gun in his hands. Tears ran down his face, a face stained with the blood of her mother. He had put her out of her misery and spared her succumbing to a bite and had decided it was best to take out his daughter and then himself rather than see them chased down and served for a meal to the hordes. She stood her ground and said 4 words that saved them both that day “I want to fight!” It was those words that gave her father then strength he needed. She mourned her mother long enough to pack what they needed. She knew while a great wife and mother but nothing not even the most gentle and wonderful of souls could withstand the bite. Her father had delivered a piece of mercy upon his wife and she loved her father for that. After gathering up their tents, armor, weapons, cooking utensils, tanks and weapons they set out try and fight their way north. Her father had made it only a few states before falling to of all things a heart attack while fighting off a pack while trying to gas up. Alone she was now like the few that were struggling to survive running for her life.
