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Sykes
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xx The Peller Household
« Thread started on: Jul 25th, 2009, 12:19pm »

Name: Silas Trismuth Peller

Age:29

Gender:Male

Date of Birth: January 9 1859

Occupation: Tracker / Large Game Hunter

Appearance: Silas is well suited to his airy habitat. Six feet tall if he's an inch, Silas sports an unruly tangle of copper coloured hair which got one look at his shoulders and took it as an invitation to keep going. He prefers to keep a faded(and by now, largely shapeless) cotton Forage cap stuffed over top of his mane. It may once have been crimson, but is now largely gray. On either side of it, two ribbed horns project upwards and away from his skull, emerging just above the temple and terminating about six inches above Silas' ears. He styles a featureless long coat in dusty brown and a narrow black leather belt, with the remainder of a high-collar white silk shirt poking out beneath the belt. This caps a pair of denim leggings and a remarkably demure pair of tough moccasins. His high cheekbones highlight his coffee brown skintone and highlight his vivid green eyes, which are in turn the centerpiece of a long, thin face. Silas prefers to use a pair of snub-nosed revolvers and a long, silver furnished knife, and keeps them about his person.

Personality: Silas is not an inherently trustworthy person. He gives an impermanent impression when speaking to people or when making choices, which is bolstered by his periods of high energy activity. He smiles often and broadly, but commonly seems insincere. He has almost no temper to speak of, but tends towards apathy. His endless search means that focusing too much on bigger picture or long term concerns just depresses him, making him a very temporary person, only thinking for the very short-term. Silas enjoys the company of others but alienates them through his sometimes caustic humor and manic behavior. He's not at all bashful about his looks. He rides horses grudgingly and considers them (and most other animals) unreliable.

History: Silas is a member of the Peller clan, who bear an interesting curse. Which, in turn, is why Silas bears an interesting set of horns. Down in the bayous, where living is hard and lives are often brief, the Pellers were guides-for-hire, mercenaries, and almost certainly smugglers. Those massive swamps were (and are!) defined by their final mysteriousness: Sprawling, and almost unnavigable, they kept more secrets than a dozen people could learn in a dozen lives. The Pellers (being Silas' grandfather and his four sons) in the process of making passage to a cache they were keeping on a dry hillock got lost in a slipstream and ran into an area of the swamps they thought they'd never leave. When they did leave, it was with confused memories of speaking to some great, scaled lizard, and being told never to return, as well as memories of great fastnesses of treasure: Not gold, but firearms, silks and spices.

It wasn't weeks but days before they mounted another venture in, and this time they were not met with deception, but with open scorn. A minute woman, with coals for eyes and talons for fingers mocked their avarice and hexxed Old Man Peller on the spot. When the pervasive swamplight faded, he was gone and left was the strangest thing any of his sons had ever seen. A 3:1 scale Rattlesnake head graced a body with the lanky muscles and tawny coat of a mountain lion (down the the swishing tail) and swift hooves, cloven and lethal-sharp like some ancient buck deer's.

Peller slew one of his sons on the spot, almost before the others could understand the scope of his transformation, and sprang away into the swamps. The cackling swamp woman went on the hex each of his three sons unto the tenth generation that they might always bear the mark of their bestial progenitor until he was captured and made to pay for his kinslaying. Silas is the third child of a third child, his father and two uncles now well into their sixties, bearing ruefully the long horns which project from their silver hair. Never instigators, all of the Old Man's sons had been followers. Silas seems to have earned some of his chimeric grandfather's flame, and has sworn to find and eliminate his wayward ancestor thus returning honour (and clean heads) to his brood.

An expert in tracking anything, he's occasionally able to pick up the beasts' strange tracks. He's hunted the creature clear across the west and into mesa country. A sterling survivalist, Silas takes off jobs to replenish those supplies he can't produce himself (powder and shells, whiskey and smith workings) and is renown as an nearly supernatural tracker. Silas has no current permanent residence.

Family: Besides his two graying uncles and his equally gray father(and their wives and brood) Silas has two sisters. His mother never cared much for Silas' strange moods and horns, and shook him out of the house at the ripe old age of nineteen. Silas did not seem overly upset.
(Being a simplified Peller family tree)


Harek Tirsmuth Peller ("Old Man Peller")
+
Rena Mary Felspar
-Trenton Belias Peller
(Deceased)
-Arthur Peller
(Family Omitted)
-Winston Peller
(Family Omitted)
-Duty Peller
+
-Ellie Saxby Malmith
--Absolon Lindsey Peller
-Winnith Lee Wellborough
--Josaphine Mary Peller
--Silas Trismuth Peller

Levels of Affection
Hate:
Indifferent:
Friend:
Good Friend:
Best Friend:
Love:

Other Characters:
Absolon Lindsey Peller
Josaphine Mary Peller
« Last Edit: Aug 20th, 2009, 11:15pm by Sykes » User IP Logged

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xx Re: The Peller Household
« Reply #1 on: Aug 15th, 2009, 01:15am »

Name: Absolon Lindsey Peller
Age:35
Gender:Female
Date of Birth: March 20 1853
Occupation: Ranch Hand
Appearance: They do make the Pellers big, but they still could've stopped making Absolon about half way through. Seven feet three inches tall, it's hard to say if Absolon's towering structure is a result of her specific cocktail of hexes or simply good luck. She was first cursed at birth with her mother's straw-blond hair, handed genetically down from places where the sun wasn't six feet from the ground, causing her hair to be permanently dry and brittle. A jet of it projects from the left side of her head, down to her shoulder, and another pile extrudes from the back right of her head, along with a set of shaggy forelocks too quailed to really call bangs. The rest of her head, including her right eye is swathed in white bandages, covering her right ear and slanting diagonally around her head. These bandages are related by marriage to the bandages which cover most of Absolon's left arm, right shoulder, left leg...and so on. Heavily bandages, Absolon favours light clothing, including a ten gallon hat worn snuggly over the head, a colourful jacket (largely in reds and browns) open to reveal a loose fitting linen tunic, belted with thick rawhide which supports a set of serious buckskin chaps over denim leggings, stuffed into tanned and bedraggled leather riding boots, replete with tarnished spurs and ancient furniture. Absolon has her mother's full figure and her father's stocky build. She has a somewhat sickly cast to her spark-green eyes, and a relatively fine face. Absolon carries a stock Winchester Rifle over one shoulder and a belt of shells for it, carried underneath. She carries a sledgehammer across her back on a pair of leather frogs which flap free when she uses the weapon.
Personality: Absolon is a meditative soul. It's telling that she's the only of the Peller's with any affinity for horses: Silas won't have anything to do with the beasts and the beasts won't have anything to do with Josaphine. Absolon's patience and thoroughness is evident instantly upon meeting her, but she makes no attempt to mask her lightning quick wit with dullness and drudgery. Often submissive and willing to follow orders, Absolon is seldom duped and never duped twice. Slow to anger and slow to forget, Absolon takes the measure of others over long periods of time and isn't easily disappointed, but can be very judgmental. Absolon's conversation is restrained, even when her intellect is engaged, and this keeps her goals nebulous.
History: Absolon is Silas's eldest sister. Six years his elder, she's the progeny of another woman. Born apparently without beastmark(besides her freakish size), Absolon was something of an enigma: Three children having three children produced one child without a horn, tail or scale to be seen.

Needless to say, she couldn't remain unhexed long. Her father, never a man of strong will, paddled into the same Bayou that'd seen the death of his eldest brother and attempted -of all things- a trade. Offering up this normal child (whom the witch had "missed", he said) he demanded that he take her, to make of her a witch, and in exchange lift the curse. The bayou witch offered a bit of rhetoric to the tune of 'Being a witch means never ever healin' ya wounds, chile'- meaning, effectively, 'never saying you're sorry' and promptly hexed the child to do exactly that.

Absolon gained a strange sense of numbness from the curse and the ability to ask a lot more from her body than most people could, but it's true: her wounds never heal. Ellie, her mother, had enough right then. A year to the day after she first bandaged a cut on Absolon's shoulder, she left Duty (Absolon's father) to twist and went back to the big city. Absolon, somewhat precocious and inured of notions of debt and blame, never mentioned on whom she blamed her mother's vanishing act but she, only five, took up an instant and dear affection for Winnith, Duty's second and current wife. Acting as a sort of second mother to the next two children and a foot soldier of Winnith's will, Absolon continued to hold herself responsible for this brood as she began work on Duty's ranch as a field hand and eventually a ranch manager.

She's engaged in exactly one hunt for the Old Man, proving that what she lacks in tacker merit badges she makes up with an almost obsessive thoroughness and a level of aggression usually associated with gutshot grizzly bears. It cost her her right eye, which, thanks prehaps to the pair of hexes awash in her personal psychic self, was a gift in it's own way. The missing eye, after all, might see what other eyes don't.

Absolon manages the ranch actively, though she's passed effective leadership down one rung and holds the title only in name. She currently resides with her parents and Josaphine, the middle child
~
Name: Josaphine Mary Peller
Age: 33
Gender: Female
Date of Birth: Dec. 31 1855
Occupation: N/A
Appearance: The first child by Duty Peller's new wife, expectations were high in the clan after Peller's first child free of any sort of beastmark. Everyone hoped for a beauty (which they got) with her mother's raven dark hair, her father's prairie lightnin' eyes (got'em) and no horns or hooves or tails. But Josaphine has very nice hooves, and has found a full length skirt conceals them quite nicely. She wears hoof cozies to muffle the sound. They're blue with frayed linen trim. Lovely. The skirt is part of a demur summer dress which should normally end around the knees but has been cajoled through reconstructive surgery to cover her hooves by dragging in the dust. Showing just a hint of skin around and beneath the neck, it boasts the puffed saloon style sleeves leaving her arms bare, and elaborate scrollwork around the waist. She owns a select few garments of this temper and husbands them ferociously. Josaphine wears no girdle but is blessed with her mother's naturally lithe form and small chest in partnership with the very soft, small cast to her features and the almost interminable midnight black hair which spills from the crest of her head. She stuffs it under a straw-woven ten gallon hat which she wears snugged down over her forehead. She obviously goes without boots but often opts for a gunbelt over the dress, just to send mixed signals. Josaphine's favoured dress runs deep burnt orange with black trim, but all of them have holsters concealed in the back ruffles, around the hip. Underneath her hat, square in the middle of her forehead, is a gorgeous, emerald eye.
Personality: Josaphine is lethal energy. Possessed of every square inch of the Old Man's drive and commanding oratory, she lacks motivation and swings rapidly from boredom to manic excitement. Her intense desire to control is the reason she's unqualified to hold any. Bullied by both siblings and comforted constantly by her mother, Josaphine taunts and teases them relentlessly to little effect. Underneath this blustery coating is a person with both the wicked drive and analytical skills which made the Pellers a major force in the smuggling world and which is sadly lacking from any of the first generation boys. She makes no show of hiding her cunning, but is often ashamed by her relative ignorance on technical and classical subjects. She can't forgive Absolon for growing up without beastmarks. She absolutely adores her mother.
History: Josaphine had the most prosaic of upbringings despite her unfortunate habit of throw sparks when walking across stone floors. She eschewed most schooling for a mixture of freedom exploring the surrounding west and cajoling her father to move the beef on out and buy her some nice things. Showing no inclination to do either, she took up the farm at the age of eleven and, to the chagrin of long horn breeders everywhere ran it up to be one of the foremost ranches anywhere. And then got bored. The farm's headed back for obscurity but Josaphine pocketed enough off the exchange to keep herself amused for the foreseeable future. Her third eye never opened (and in fact, may not have existed) until the age of seventeen when a young man claiming to be a major in the U.S. Army turned out to be a deserter formerly of the U.S. Army, which was a remarkable thing to know given that he never breathed a word of it. Josaphine completed her wicked transaction with the young gentleman, rumbled him to the law, helped herself to his six shooter and began to teach herself what the eye was for. In the first, it can see hexwork and the strands of voodoo magic where'ere they may be, and can find examples of Josaphine's handwork for her no matter how far she is from them. In the second, it can see through falsehoods and cannot be lied to. It does this at a whim, and isn't to be relied upon. It seems it actually can see through masks and disguises, which are often in the form of lies. It's also been bested once. Finally, it can see spirits and the dead. Josaphine has very recently begun using this power in strange, even disturbing ways which are slowly distancing her from her mother.

The only time it's been lied to is by the Beast itself. The deception it uses to hide its' motions is greater than Josaphine's true seeing.

Josaphine still uses that same pistol, engraved every inch with hexagramic wards and transcribed incantations. The weapon is called Lioness Couard and she claims its' origin (as the weapon of a lying coward) makes it a fated weapon, much like the blessed blades of a bygone century, with a desire to prove itself. The other pistol is named simply Tower, though she claims the weapon has a grim past: It has sent an important and suicidal political official into the next life. She claims that the use of the weapon in causing so much trouble to so many gives it a desire to ruin functioning systems.
« Last Edit: Aug 20th, 2009, 11:09pm by Sykes » User IP Logged

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