Meet the Characters

Isannah · Mar 4 '09, 4:42am

In this thread, please post a picture and the background story for your character. Secret information should go in private text.

Liantefaron · 6:09pm

Appearance:
Size/Weight: 5'2"/110lbs (160cm/55kg)
Age:

true age 13, birthday somewhen in autumn

12, born on July 25 [St.Jacob's day]
Looks: Short brown hair, brown eyes with a sprinkle of grey. Seems to be quite strong for his age and has (astonishingly) healthy white teeth, no signs of

broken voice or pimples

puberty (yet), he has a clear, high voice. As a street dweller, he is wearing patched clothing and smells of filth - how quickly this will change on board, we will see.

Behaviour:
He has the proud stance of those who have nothing to lose and everything to win and the habit of staring at everyone as if he would like to challenge the whole world to a duel.
Jake can be considered a bit too much on the self-esteem side of life, up to the point of overconfidence at times. He is, at the least, fond of risks when he knows people are around and he thinks he can look flashy. If he's that helpful when the task is boring or no spectators are around is an open question.
It has shown by now that he indeed aspires to become the inofficial leader of the little gang of ship's boys. The grown-ups have split up the boys, though, and his former rival Korey Mattione and the source of a lot of eye-rolling, "preacher boy" Nathaniel, are gone. The continuing presence of midshipman Harold Jacobson (or officers in general) further complicates his quest for domination.

Abilities and Debilities:
Jake seems to be a good climber and has, apparently, some knowledge of street fights. Also, he is a show-off at times.

Possessions:

Other Info:

"Nobody can steal from the McPurseys, Jake."
- "I can do that and then some."

Jake grew up, for the first 3 years of his life, with his Mother in Whitechapel. He still remembers that she smelled of aniseed and had a silver necklace of some sort.
Then the worst day in his life came: His mother explained that she was sick, very sick and wanted him to go with the constable to a new home. The new home was the orphanage in Cannon Street near St. George's Church, only a few streets away from the London Docks, led by the Deacon of St. George's, Mr. Portswell and Mrs. Laura Kerrington, who insisted on being called "Sister Laura". The two "good christians", who "just want to help the poor children" proved to be rather on the miserly and harsh side of life. Not only were there frequent "repentance sessions" in "the cage" with mandatory reciting of the bible, but when the two weren't looking, fights for food and power arose between the children.
It was on his fifth birthday that Jacob Foster - as the owners of the orphanage had named him, since, apparently, his mother had forgotten to tell them his real name - had planned to flee. Just as he sneaked out of the sleeping chamber, one of the younger children, Peter Stephens, awoke and whispered: "If ye dun' take me wi' you, I'll scream." Seeing the boy was one of the favored punching bags of the orphanage and that he had no choice anyways, Jake smuggeled the boy out the kitty door with him.
On the street, they had some hard days, before they ran into one of "Aunt Carol's boys. They had begged for some food, when "Sparkling Jamey" informed them, that this was "his street". Instead of letting themselves shoo away, Jake put up a fight, despite being smaller and weaker. It might have been luck that he won, that day. Or fate. Or, as Jake would say: "He had no chance beatin' me." However that may have been, Jake and Peter became one of Aunt Carol's boys, living in a house in Chambers Street, not far from the Royal Mint, and learning how to "earn a living" - and that meant begging, stealing and burglary.
For a while, it was good.
Two months after his 12th birthday, "Wally" Jake, together with "Tictic" Morris and "Tuppence" Penny were planning a break-in after having observed the nightly activity at a warehouse on the Shadwell Dock. Every other night, a wherry brought small crates, and sometimes passengers, to Shadwell whilst a policeman was paid for looking the other away. Even though the other children had objections, Jake convinced them that between delivery of the crates and the appearance of those who collected them, there was enough time to "have a look".
After the boatsmen had gone, the children -proficient in this sort of activity- scaled the wall of the warehouse and entered through a rooflight. They even managed to find and open one of crates from the wherry. It was opium, as Tictic could tell. "T'is too hot fer us, boys. We won' find a cust'mer wi'out drawin' suspicion.", warned Tuppence. Then, the warehouse door was unlocked and drawn open. The kids scurried back up to the rooflight, but Tictic (more used to pickpocketing pocket watches) toppled a grappling hook leaning on the wall.
Two hours later, Jake and Tuppence had finally escaped and found each other at one of the secret meeting points of Aunt Carol's Boys, but Tictic was missing. Aunt Carol was not in the least amused. After two days, a man showed up and told Auntie where she could find Tictics body - with a warning that, should "the other child" ever be seen in Shadwell, there would be more blood than that. It was on the same day that Aunt Carol, for the sake of "her little family", brought Jake to the King's Docks at Deptford and handed him over to the Navy.

Public GURPS sheet of Young Jake, three years before campaign start and 100CP lighter (a typical 25CP "Average Joe", as the Basic Set suggests). Since we switched over to 7th Sea, you could only guess what he's like now.

Mordae · Mar 24 '09, 12:49pm

Age: 13
Date of Birth: February 26
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 120#

Appearance: Jules stands just under five-and-a-half feet in height, with sandy hair, warm brown eyes, and a freckled complexion made somewhat ruddy by the heat of the baking ovens. His frame is thin and wiry, reflecting years of hard work along with slight malnourishment befitting his status as the youngest child in the family. His best assets are his winning smile and silvery tongue, both of which have served him well in the business.

Jules is a scrawny lad of thirteen, the youngest son of a baker and birthed in Harrow-on-the-hill on a frosty morning in late February. His mother Gerty, a round-bottomed lady much beloved in the community for her work in the church and her advocacy for the poor, doted much on her older boys and girls but didn't spare much time for the rascally Jules; thus, the lad often found himself in the company of his burly father, Thom, in the bake house. From the tender age of seven, Jules learned to wake hours before dawn, work the flour, sponge, water, and salt to make dough, shape a dozen kinds of loaves, and have them all baked and beautiful by sunrise to greet the morning's first customers. Jules was skilled enough at the trade that the reputation of the bakery grew, and some wealthy customers from miles away would send for their breads; while good for business, it meant Jules had to rise even earlier to ensure that the loaves were ready when the coach of the Baron of Watford or the carriage of the Countess of Fulham arrived an hour before the first rays of the sun.

Having become enamoured of the daughter of Lady Fulham, Jules left home to pursue his love only to realize he had no means by which to win her. He has sought out employment in the Navy in the hopes of rising through the ranks to a status befitting his lady's attentions.

By the age of thirteen Jules had enough of the hard work of the bakery, which had grown more and more difficult as his father's arthritic hands began acting up. He was tending the shop on a Palm Sunday morning, peddling hot cross buns to parishioners of the local church when a familiar carriage stopped out front of the shop. The footman opened the door, but instead of the usual courier it was the Countess herself, with her lord alongside and their daughter in tow, all arrayed in their finest. Jules quickly wiped the stray flour from his apron and bid good day to the commoners browsing the wares, and hastened to the door to greet the family with a low bow and a doffing of his wide-brimmed white cap. "My Lady, my Lord, you honor our shop with your presence." As he replaced the baker's hat on his head, he stood to realize that the daughter was watching him intently. He froze as their eyes met. She was heart-stoppingly beautiful, with her sparkling blue eyes highlighted by the pale, frilly dress of the same color and her creamy face surrounded by a waterfall of strawberry blonde curls. She smiled at him, and he felt as though he might melt into a puddle on the spot.

"Master Verron, we were but on our way for a ride to the country when we realized that we would pass by your fine bakery, and I simply cannot live without a taste of your hot cross buns on this gorgeous sabbath day." The countess had spoken, but Jules had scarcely heard her while transfixed on the younger angel before him. Snapping himself from his reverie for a moment, he mumbled something in response and stumbled back into the shop to pack up a dozen of the freshest rolls and bring them back to the carriage in a wicker basket.

"Alice, do be a dear and help Master Verron with our rolls," the lady directed her daughter. "Your father will be late for tea with Lord Wycombe if we are further delayed." Jules wordlessly bowed and presented the basket to the young lady, and as she took it their hands touched for a moment. The slight warmth of her fingertips was enough to make him flinch, and as Jules looked up the girl gave him another of those smiles. And then the family was returning into their carriage and the moment was over; Jules inhaled deeply, suddenly realizing that he had been holding his breath.

"Master Verron," said the lord from the carriage window, "I would like it very much if you could have five dozen dinner rolls ready by six o'clock tonight for a dinner party I am hosting. We shall expect them piping hot on our return from the vale!" Jules nodded as the carriage rolled away, and raised his voice to call after them. "They shall be the best you ever tasted, Al... umm, my Lord!"

He knew not what he was getting himself into, but he was in love. Jules gathered up his few personal possessions and hid them away in a sack in the bakery while he began preparing the rolls. By six o'clock, all was ready and he was arrayed in his finest when he met the carriage as it arrived with the coming of dusk. As he bowed low to present his offerings to the doorman, he put on his best face and asked, "Good sir, I am in need of passage to London to visit my ailing aunt. Might I be so bold as to request transport on the back of one of your fine horses? I am light and will make no burden to you or your animals." The doorman looked him up and down, and assented with a subtle wink and a gesture at the seat next to the driver. Jules smiled and offered his profuse thanks, then scrambled up to the bench. The horses broke out into a slow trot, and the only home Jules had ever known gradually receded into distance and darkness.

After an hours' ride, the carriage approached the outskirts of the city. "This is where you get off, lad," the driver told him. Jules climbed quickly down and waved farewell as the carriage rode slowly along the cobblestoned streets, slow enough that Jules was able to keep up until at last they arrived at the lord's estate. Now he knew where she lived... but how could he win her? Reality set in with the chill of the night air in early spring. He had no rank or title. He had no hopes of easy wealth with which to buy himself into the bourgeois life. Turning back now was no good, though--a six-hour walk through the night only to be soundly beaten for insolence was an unappetizing option. Jules walked his way down street after street, dodging the night guards and running from the bums and beggars; what he lacked in strength, he made up for in sharp wit and foot speed.

By dawn, he found himself by the docks watching the ships come and go when he heard the crier's call for boys to serve on a ship of the royal Navy. Now here was an opportunity; with luck, he could enlist and rise through the ranks, and a military officer would make a fine husband for his Alice! He pushed his way through the crowds and down to the spot where the midshipman was struggling with the swarm of other boys. He knew nothing of the sea, but he would learn and succeed for the love of his life.

Behaviour: Jules is genial and outgoing, a natural salesman whose skills were honed by four years at the helm of his father's bakery. While no scholar, he grasps the basics of mathematics (particularly as it applies to money) and can read a few words and phrases (as they apply to baking specifically and cooking in general). He has a quick wit and quicker feet, which complement each other nicely in evading both his elder brothers and the thugs of central London. He has a habit of being a bit obsessive, which is a virtue when his heart is in the right place and a vice when he is bent on mischief.

hecklenjyde · 12:33pm

Art Toohey
Age 12 (or thereabouts - has yet to reach growth spurt/show signs of puberty)
Birth Date Unknown, considered to be born August
Height 4'8"
Weight 92lb

Appearance Scrawny lad with something fierce about him, has big hazel brown eyes, darkly-ringed and bloodshot and dirty blonde hair, literally and in the description of its hue. Wears a grubby linen shirt, black woolen breeches cinched at the waist with rope and a battered brown coat that must have once belonged to a much larger (and full-grown) man. Also wears worn leather shoes, slightly too big for him, grey stockings, almost as dark as his trousers and a shapeless felt hat. He is not tall but there is something about his build that suggests he may grow into his jacket, and is not a day over thirteen, if that, though his voice is gruff from smoking. He carries a sack over his left shoulder, most likely containing his belongings (or someone elses) and can often be found smoking the dog-end of a cheroot. When not manipulating a cigar, the thumb of his free hand is usually tucked into his makeshift belt.

Behaviour Art is often stolid and does not complain (much), for he is determined to brazen out his past misfortunes. He imagines that, one day, he will cut as as fine a figure as those in the Navy, which he sees, in some ways, as a place of sanctuary, though he would insist that all he needs to get by are his clever hands and feet. He is only a boy however, not even at the crux of manhood and can be swayed easily by others' passions as well as his own. Sometimes he will change from being outspoken and rash to cautious and secretive and back again, almost within the same breath, for he is not used to trusting others and tends to see those who do so as tempting fate and ill-will.