Where he lives: A room in a house that was abandoned, then commandeered by his old gang. He never moved out, even though he has a legit job now.
Age: Around nineteen or so.
Occupation: He works four days a week on the docks, sometimes some odd jobs (building and the likes) on the weekends, and dabbles in pickpocketry.
Appearance: Around 5� 10�, he was gangly for a long time, earning him his nickname. He doesn�t really remember what his real name was any more. Colt has longish black hair that just brushes his shoulders and is usually tied back with a piece of black cotton. His face is smooth with his beard kept close to the skin. His eyes are set wide, and dark brown with black lashes to match his eyebrows. His face is very expressive, and it looks like you can always read his emotions. Time, however, has given him a little more control. He has a straight nose, and pale brown skin. (he�s a mongrel, it�s likely his father was a trader of some sort, he�s under the impression his mother was a prostitute) He has a small tattoo high on his right cheekbone, a small vertical rectangle but with a gap in the centre and two dots framing it. He has a little gap between his two front teeth, and a pleasant smile, a little scar on his left cheek pocks into a dimple when he does. His body is lithe and muscular, and even though he eats a lot when he can, he stays in shape. He has almost no body hair, except for his armpits and snailtrail, which is curly and dark. He has several more tattoos on his back, thick black patterns. Colt wears a fake silver earring in one earlobe, and he has a scar on the other from having one pulled out. Big hands with long fingers are clever, and he�s very dextrous.
Clothing: raggedy style breeches and loose shirts, whatever shoes happen to be most waterproof, and a headband.
Personality: Colt is one of those calmer people, that rob the men watching a fight in a street. His speed makes him very confident, and this passes into every day life. He�s quietly arrogant, sure of himself and will fight with words or fists if necessary. He doesn�t think as much as he should, tending to just take action and analyze it later. He does analyze though, he�ll sit and chew over events for hours. He�s mostly very cheerful, he counts himself terribly lucky to be around, and therefore doesn�t like to complain. He also doesn�t like other people who complain all the time, and whine. He likes things that are beautiful to look at, and can spend hours watching an artist paint or listening to music. He will, however, then rob the artist of the painting. He�d quite like to be a nicer person, but knows that it gets you nowhere in life. He�s a sort of.. philosophical bastard. Life doesn�t treat you well without you grabbing it by the ears and shaking.
However, he is also not a callous rat bastard like some street lads turn out to be. He remembers vividly every act of kindness that allowed him to survive, and so if he has spare food or whathave you, he always ends up giving some to the smaller street kids. This makes him feel a bit stupid, though, so he will try not to let people see.
Strengths: He�s very fast, practical, and has no real morals to hinder him in everyday life.
Weaknesses: He�s totally uneducated, and a product of the city streets. He will probably die fairly young having not really achieved anything.
Dislikes: being cold, idiots, eggs, mud, having his hair straggly in his face, racists, smart asses.
Likes: art, music, rain, water, dancing, fighting, running, climbing, throwing things and catching them. Horses, girls in breeches, puddles, warm feet, a hot meal and a comfy bed.
Habits: chewing his bottom lip, biting his nails. Checking a room before he enters it. Sleeping lightly. Wanting to be as warm as possible. Stealing. Fighting.
History: His mother abandoned him when he was six or so, and he was adopted by a gang of streetrats, eating garbage etc to survive.. He hated the uncertainty, and the fear, so he worked hard to build up some bulk with what food he had. He works on the docks, now. Unloading and loading. As such he is coarse, uneducated, cheerful and strong. He spends his days wandering, robbing, thinking, fighting, and looking for a higher purpose.
What is your character most ashamed of?
He lies a whole lot, and while it doesn�t intrinsically make him ashamed some of his fibs have had bad consequences.
What makes your character unique? That he has no angsty, traumatised history, is not especially attractive, and in general is a person living an everyday, ordinary life?
What is your character doing at the inn? Having a beer?