Post by endymien on Jun 2, 2008 20:32:49 GMT -5
Name: Endymien Job Philister III
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Job Wanted: Banker, if there is ever a bank.
Other Position wanted: Hired hand. One to do the odd jobs.
Description: A very plain looking feline at six foot. Thin muscle but not malnourished. Tabby grey fur with the darker grey stripes going down long his backside. Also this darker grey are his paws and footpaws. Chest as well, but this is most often covered. White shirt is untucked and hangs midthigh above the brown trousers and dust worn boots. Belt is covered by the hanging shirt, but the lack of a bulge under it shows no guns or holsters. Headfur is black, eyes are silver. Both keeping with his very simple look. The only thing quite out of the ordinary is the bright gold vest that hugs him tightly with the flat silver buttons. Whether it is one of happiness, sadness, or anger the fellow's expressions and movements are exagerated.
Example RP (*copies the one from this moment*):
Endymien bit his lower lip through his smiles as he looked at the man. What Colten could appear to be, Endy may be the opposite. Most everything about the feline was friendly, exagerated, and rang with naievity. "Good to meet you Colten, mines Endy." Shortening the name for ease. "Oh, from Dodge? How do you find it here?" He was not likely to turn from the glorious ideas of heading west, but it would be good to know how another found it.
Colten Reming smiled. "Bountiful." He said with a grin. "Pleasure to meet you I'm sure." He said as he looked the man up and down. "Ain't you got a gun Endy?" He asked as he patted the handles of his Schofields. He leaned back a bit stretching his arm a ways to reach his glass, grabbing it and tossing it to his free hand while grasping the bottle of whiskey; he poured himself another glass and shot that one down just as the previous.
Endymien looked nervous if only for a moment. He patted his outer thighs where folks in their right minds may carry some sort of arms. "Not at all, good sir, not at all." Another sort of half shrug was given. "I've never found it in me to kill a man, for any reason. If someone is willing to kill me for something, I'd much easier give it up than risk someone getting shot up." Chances were with his clumsy paws it'd be him lying dead anyways.
Colten Reming shook his head. "Round these parts it's best to carry an iron even if'in it's just for show if you know what I mean." He drew his Schofield and spun it around his finger once before paping it firmly in his lap. "Kin'of deterent if you catch my drift." He shrugged. "Least for the lower-classed scum that ye'd find mulling these streets and this'ere Saloon." He grinned devilishly. "So what'd be yer profession Endy?" He asked, a glint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. "One so fancy as yourself must come into a bit of money somehows." He finished as he extended his arm onto the counter and tapped his fingers lightly on the laqoured wooden top.
Endymien kept up the friendly smile as his boots sounded with a few steps back to where he had been but not seated again yet. "I catch it." He scratched the side of his head still a bit lazy. Even with the encouragement to use it for show he doubted he would carry a gun, which was a major flaw in anyone surely. "I used to be a banker, up on the northeast coast. Not a big city. I don't find myself coming into much money lately." He chuckled lightly, even in misfortune smiling. "About all I have now is the cloths on my back and a few coins to get me settled, I hope." Definately not enough to cart himself back to the city if he needed, so the drink he had earlier was likely not the greatest of plans. "And what about you? What is your proffesion?"
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Job Wanted: Banker, if there is ever a bank.
Other Position wanted: Hired hand. One to do the odd jobs.
Description: A very plain looking feline at six foot. Thin muscle but not malnourished. Tabby grey fur with the darker grey stripes going down long his backside. Also this darker grey are his paws and footpaws. Chest as well, but this is most often covered. White shirt is untucked and hangs midthigh above the brown trousers and dust worn boots. Belt is covered by the hanging shirt, but the lack of a bulge under it shows no guns or holsters. Headfur is black, eyes are silver. Both keeping with his very simple look. The only thing quite out of the ordinary is the bright gold vest that hugs him tightly with the flat silver buttons. Whether it is one of happiness, sadness, or anger the fellow's expressions and movements are exagerated.
Example RP (*copies the one from this moment*):
Endymien bit his lower lip through his smiles as he looked at the man. What Colten could appear to be, Endy may be the opposite. Most everything about the feline was friendly, exagerated, and rang with naievity. "Good to meet you Colten, mines Endy." Shortening the name for ease. "Oh, from Dodge? How do you find it here?" He was not likely to turn from the glorious ideas of heading west, but it would be good to know how another found it.
Colten Reming smiled. "Bountiful." He said with a grin. "Pleasure to meet you I'm sure." He said as he looked the man up and down. "Ain't you got a gun Endy?" He asked as he patted the handles of his Schofields. He leaned back a bit stretching his arm a ways to reach his glass, grabbing it and tossing it to his free hand while grasping the bottle of whiskey; he poured himself another glass and shot that one down just as the previous.
Endymien looked nervous if only for a moment. He patted his outer thighs where folks in their right minds may carry some sort of arms. "Not at all, good sir, not at all." Another sort of half shrug was given. "I've never found it in me to kill a man, for any reason. If someone is willing to kill me for something, I'd much easier give it up than risk someone getting shot up." Chances were with his clumsy paws it'd be him lying dead anyways.
Colten Reming shook his head. "Round these parts it's best to carry an iron even if'in it's just for show if you know what I mean." He drew his Schofield and spun it around his finger once before paping it firmly in his lap. "Kin'of deterent if you catch my drift." He shrugged. "Least for the lower-classed scum that ye'd find mulling these streets and this'ere Saloon." He grinned devilishly. "So what'd be yer profession Endy?" He asked, a glint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. "One so fancy as yourself must come into a bit of money somehows." He finished as he extended his arm onto the counter and tapped his fingers lightly on the laqoured wooden top.
Endymien kept up the friendly smile as his boots sounded with a few steps back to where he had been but not seated again yet. "I catch it." He scratched the side of his head still a bit lazy. Even with the encouragement to use it for show he doubted he would carry a gun, which was a major flaw in anyone surely. "I used to be a banker, up on the northeast coast. Not a big city. I don't find myself coming into much money lately." He chuckled lightly, even in misfortune smiling. "About all I have now is the cloths on my back and a few coins to get me settled, I hope." Definately not enough to cart himself back to the city if he needed, so the drink he had earlier was likely not the greatest of plans. "And what about you? What is your proffesion?"
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