Post by Fauve Ami Trudel on Apr 10, 2013 16:26:18 GMT
Fauve Ami Trudel
Hey, my name is... Fauve Ami Trudel
But most call me... Fauve, Fay
If you want to, you can label me... heteroflexible
I've been on this earth for... 290 years
Which means I was born... July 6th, 1722
I'm a... local
And only a... barkeep
I have power over...fire
My eyes are... brown
And my hair is... black
One could say... I'm pretty damn good lookin' for my age. I don't put much stock in gussyin' up or anything like that, so I keep things casual. I cut my own hair, usually 'cause I'm too damn lazy to find a stylist or anything like that. It's usually spur-the-moment with a pair of sewing scissors while I'm takin' a bath. Anyway, I got a good figure on me, and I treat it proud. I'm sorta short, though, so there's that.
When I'm all shrunk up in fae form, I got red wings with black and yellow on 'em, sort of shredded looking at the bottoms.
I'm normally seen wearing... leather, jeans, clothes scrapped up so bad they're mostly holes and stitches. I sorta fell in lust with the punk scene in the 1970s, and I ain't much for shopping, so some of my clothes is still from back then!
And I supposedly look like... Joan Jett
All round, I'm... a fais do-do! For those of you who don't talk N'awleans, that's a party. I been called a hedonist, a troublemaker, a skank, a drunk. I been called a lot of stuff, but that don't mean I ain't fun and a half. I know how to party, know how to loosen people up and get 'em talkin'.
I can't stand routine, and I always need to be shakin' stuff up. Sometimes that means startin' a fight and spendin' a night in jail, sometimes it just means drivin' 145kph 'til I hit Scotland.
I ain't one for relationships, but I keep friends pretty well. Even if I take off and don't see 'em for a few years, I remember people real well.
I'm in love with... whiskey, beer, back home cookin', loud music, rowdy tussles in crowded bars, rough sex (or any sex to be honest), fast cars, les bonnes temps!
Though I detest... wet blankets, stiffs in suits, behavin' myself, keepin' the books at the bar, wine what don't come from a box, peace and quiet
But my best assets are... my alcohol tolerance, havin' a good time, fightin', screwin', and weaslin' my way outta stuff. Too, I speak 'em even uglier than I speak English, but I got a handle on French and Spanish.
However my worst... I tend to make decisions too quick, ain't good at commitment, ain't good at settin' in one place too long, tend to make trouble, and I been told I'm probably a alcoholic or somethin'.
And I dream of... gettin' drunk and laid in every corner of this little world.
My life story... My parents was French, come down the Mississippi after they was settling the Canadian territories way back when. They got married after they settled in the Big Easy (that's New Orleans, y'all), and went about havin' an ungodly amount of children. My sister was the oldest and helped Mama wrangle the rest of us kids.
Raised with so many boys like I was, I got used to rough housin' and holdin' my own. Back then, that wasn't so acceptable, so I kept my hair short and dressed up like a boy when I wanted to go out playin' with them. Papa hated it, but he was so busy supportin' us lot, he didn't have too much say in it. They also didn't have much say in the awful Yat we learned to speak. See, we was Creoles 'cause we was born in Louisiana, so we started off with butchered French, then picked up some butchered Spanish when they took over the territory, then ended up with an ugly ass English-French-Spanish hodgepodge.
'Round about the time I turned seventeen, the war came on and my three oldest brothers went off to battle. I wanted to go off and fight alongside my kin, but my parents didn't like the idea. So, naturally, I stole some of my brothers' clothes, took up a fake name, and went off in the middle of the night.
I fought in the war for the better part of a century. I'd given up playin' it as a boy by then, so I had to be extra tough to keep respect from the other soldiers. I got a bit of a reputation for myself, I must say. I ran into Bijoux and worked in a battalion with him for few years, but then we went our separate ways. I never saw none of my other brothers in action.
In the 1830s, I went back home to see my parents, only to find our neighborhood got ravaged by a pack of wolves. My parents was both dead, Papa with his throat ripped out and Mama havin' killed herself after gettin' bit. I never found out what happened to Charnell.
I stuck around New Orleans for a couple of decades, during which I was mostly half in a bottle. One day, though, I just got up and thought, "I'm gonna go kill some wolves." So I did. I fought for most of the rest of the war, heading back home every so often. I got shipped overseas in the 1970s while the war was comin' to a head.
To this day, I ain't seen nor heard from any of my siblings. More'n few probably died in fighting. I floated around Wales a year or two, then went to Northvale once I ran too low on cash, and started work at a local bar.
I was born to... Oriel and Arlette Trudel
And also lived with... an older sister, Charnell, and five brothers, Oriel, Grenier, Bijoux, Laurent and Leverett
Not to mention... a smelly old sheepdog named Sid Vicious
My ooc name is... Joohlia[/color][/blockquote]
And I've been roleplaying... too long
The Secret Word is... PASSWORD ACCEPTED
