Philadora Primsnout
[Insert Character Pictures Here]
Skills
[Insert Character Pictures Here]
Skills
Total Points Available To Spend |
|---|
The default for new characters over 16 is 12, for characters under 16 it is 11. |
Physical
-{Pickpocket [Proficient] (3 Points)
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-One with the crowd [Novice] (1)
Capable of blending with a crowd, useful for following people or losing a tail.
Total Points In Category 4
Mental
-Thievery [Seasoned] (4 points)
Total Points In Category 4
Social
-Deceit [Trained] (2)
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-Blackmail [trained] (2)
Total Points In Category 4
General Information
Age: 25
Species: Ferret
Biological Sex: Female
Pronouns: She/they
Size: Small
Physical Description
A completely black furred ferret, except for her muzzle and throat, which is a light tan. Equally dark eyes and a black leather strapped chest plate
Filly has several ear piercing and a septum ring also all black when she is on the job and silver when not.
Inventory and Real Estate
-a set of lock picks
-bosun's whistle
-crumpled drawing of her late parents and siblings
-lots of daggers
Personality
Filly is a curious mix of harden street urchin and naive young adult. She can be quick to anger, holds grudges, and even though being raised properly, rude and boisterous as a seagul with a vendetta. Much of the bluster fades when she is on the job. While working she is as focused as a telescope and only has eyes for the prize whether that is coin, information, or Pasties from an open shop window.
Strengths
-can blend in with a crowd or any dark or dim area
-has an eye, an ear, and paws for blackmail material
-proficient pick pocket
Weaknesses
-hold's grudges
-not the best lock pick
-wants beasts to take her seriously even though she was raised in wealth (until her parents died)
-is not the best fighter, what she lacks in training she make up in volume (of daggers that is) If you throw enough daggers you eventually hit the thing right?
History
Philadora Primnose or "Filly the Fingers" as she prefers to be called. Was born and raised, until her 12th year, in eye-gougingly decadent wealth. Born into the now defunct Noble family; the Primsnouts. Philadora wanted for nothing, her six elder sisters and six elder brothers were all lavished in luxury few beasts could ever dream of. Gala feasts every thursday, a live-in paw massuse, and of course only the finest of 3-ply toilet paper. She had figuratively everything she could ever want, except for her parent's affections, which had been split far too thin between her other twelve siblings. This instilled in her a need to impress those she loves, if she could just show her parents how good she was at tap dancing, or solo dresage (without the horse) maybe they would someday say the words she would die to hear; "I am proud of you". This way of living however did not last long. Having stayed at home due to oversleeping. her siblings and parents went to the Opera without her. Normally missing an opera night would be enough to send Philadora into tears. Except for this night, which happened to fall on a future anniversery for yet another bombing of the Opera House. Having met there end at a extra fiery production of "The Nosering Cycle", one of the greatest punk operas ever written.
After all of her family died in this explosive manner, Philadora's life followed a path steeply into poverty. First she witnessed all of her family assets and property abosrbed into the other Noble families, as they picked over the corpse of the Primsnout manor. Having no living relatives who wanted to take her in, a twelve-year-old Philadora was shuffled from orphanage to orphanage until she was 15, when she was kicked out for too many escape attempts (Really because they were running out of room and the oldests were always the first to get the boot).
Now living on the streets Philadora, now going by Filly, had to learn very quickly a skill to keep her fed. Having always had nimble paws, from years of harpsicord playing as a child, Filly decided to take up pickpocketing. She figured she would start at the Bilge pickpocketing drunks and gamblers, who would probably not miss (or notice) a coin or two). It was lucky that her first attempt was with an older beast, I'm talking getting grey haired old. She thought she had an easy mark, as the figure had their head on the table, a stream of drool making its way out of their mouth and onto the table, where a slowly growing pool formed. To her credit she managed to get her hand within an inch of their pocket before it was grabbed and a strangly small and flat knife put to her throat.
"Now wot is a young lass like you doin' goin' around robbing old beasts jist looking for a nap in their favorite watering hole?". She could tell that this beast was still very intoxicated, their fur reeked of stale grog. She felt the knife move away from her throat and she gulped audibly. The beast let her go "Why don' ye sit down, an I tell ye a story, this one is free". Now any wise beast would have run and left the bar, but Filly, while smart, was not wise. She pulled the chair across from the beast out and sat down across from them. Still in shock from the threat of imminent throat slitting. When she was settled she finally got a good look at the beast. She was a greying pine marten with mismatched eyes and a snaggletooth. She wore a stained and tatty uniform. One that at one point had gold buttons and golden epulettes with orange trim, now buttonless and dull. This hit Filly in a strange way. She almost felt sorry for this beast. Her old and battered uniform, once a symbol of wealth and station, mirrored her own loss. The inebriated marten gathered herself as best she could and began to tell her a story, one of high seas adventures, of a fabulous feast where the cake stood ten feet tall, and of friends lost and memories faded. Filly felt for the first time in a long time, sympathy. She could tell the marten lost a lot. But they were also a decent story teller. After that day she would stop by frequently to hear more tales and to even learn some skills from this strange marten while she she got to know more about her. Ten years spent listening, learning, and practicing paid off and Filly, now known as "the Fingers", was turning out to be a proficent pickpocket. Using her dark fur to tail people, she soon excelled at finding out information; whether it was the things she stole, the things she heard, or the things she coersed out of beasts. She would always bring back these nuggets of information for the story telling marten to weave into stories. Though life was still a daily struggle, the now twenty five year old, was making a name for herself, A better name. Not like Philadora....yech.......who would ever want to have that name?
