FFlewddur Fflam
Jan 19, 2013 23:05:19 GMT -5
Post by Fflewddur Fflam on Jan 19, 2013 23:05:19 GMT -5
Introduce yourself.
character basics.
Age: 66
Species: human
Birthplace: Prydain
Movie: The Black Cauldron
Title: Minstrel of Minstrels
Why: Why'd you pick this character?
Fflewddur has always been a favorite of mine, ever since I first saw The Black Cauldron. Working on his app, I've come to realize how...unspectacular a fellow he is. But I'm hoping that will make for some interesting roleplay, and that he won't bore everyone silly.
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Facial description/mood expressions: Fflewddur's cheeks are beginning to sag with age, as is his chin. His nose is a little bit beaky, his eyes brown, his brows bushy. He generally shows a clueless expression as he tries to sort out just what is happening around him, but his kindly nature is often seen in his benign smile.
Clothing style: Fflewddur's clothes may have once been stylish, but time and use have given him a seedy appearance. He wears patched knee breeches and bulky shoes, topped off with a too-small hat sporting a feather that has seen better days. His red cloak provides warmth during his travels.
Body build: The bard has skinny limbs with knobby elbows and knees. Although he is mostly scrawny, he does possess a bit of a pot-belly. Fflewddur is not particularly strong, but he can endure more than one would suppose.
Any unique traits (optional): Not a trait, perhaps, but Fflewddur carries a magic harp that snaps a string to warn listeners when its bearer is telling a lie.
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Original character analysis. (Everything must be in your own words! Please be thorough.)
He's not stupid, by any means, but easily flustered. He's certainly no leader, content to remain in the background most of the time. Although able to come up with plans that sound rather good, most of these fall through, and it's left to others to save the day. Once in a while an idea of Fflewddur's will pan out, giving him a true sense of accomplishment.
He is generous, though he has nothing much to offer to anyone, being poor and content to remain so.
He hasn't a forceful personality; even when angry, Fflam doesn't cut a very imposing figure. He is easily flustered and not very decisive. Also a timid person most of the time, Fflewddur chooses to shirk danger whenever possible to save his own skin. But if others are in jeopardy, it's a different story. Fflewddur will do his best to help them, though his best isn't much.
For some reason he's never been able to divine, Fflewddur is unaccountably attractive to a certain type of female: the pushy, overbearing type. He avoids them like the plague, but hasn't the gumption to simply tell them to leave him alone. Cats are also quite fond of him.
Proud of his heritage, Ffleuddur populates the Fflam family history with all sorts of heroic traits, not only to brag on his lineage, but also to spur himself to do what must be done.
All in all, an average guy who often finds himself in out-of-the-average situations, but can't seem to rise to the occasion.
History: Fflewddur Fflam was born in an obscure village of Prydain, and was undistinguished from birth. Not a particularly attractive babe, nor a very promising scholar, nor yet a notable personage in the village, he passed his early years in mediocrity, mostly overlooked by those who knew him. Although his one desire was to study music, there was little money in the family till for lessons, particularly for a lad who showed no real musical aptitude. Instead, Fflewddur was apprenticed to the local blacksmith, with less-than-stellar results. As smithing was evidently not his destiny, young Fflam was sent instead to learn carpentry. And when that failed, it was baking. Then tailoring. And so on, until there was scarcely a profession in the village he hadn't tried. And failed.
But, as his father used to say, "A Fflam never slacks!" And so Fflewddur meekly endured it all, continually nurturing his dreams of a musical career, growing from an ineffectual boy to an ineffectual man. He kept himself alive with odd jobs and never minded it much, finally inheriting a small legacy when his father died.
Then fate intervened.
The minor king of a tiny part of Prydain died suddenly with no heir, and the ruling council scoured the court records to find his next-of-kin. Seems his distant cousin on his mother's side was none other than Fflewddur Fflam.
Amazingly, Fflewddur went from a nobody to a king overnight! But ruling was not what he'd imagined it would be. Eager to be a good king and to help his subjects, Fflam the First found that he was nothing but a figurehead. The kingdom was ruled by the council, and his main duty was to entertain visiting personages and show himself at state functions. Oh, he tried various projects aimed at improving life for the people, but those that weren't nixed by the council turned out far differently than Fflewddur had intended (don't even ask about the aqueduct!) For all his good intentions, very little of value was accomplished.
Worst of all, the council expended a great deal of effort in trying to "improve" their new king. Fflam was forced to take lessons in diction, table manners, hawking, protocol, history, dancing, and more, until he thought he should go mad!
One good thing did come from his time as king: Ffleddur finally had the time and the money (he was given an allowance by the ruling council) to take music lessons. He hired tutors in voice and various instruments, even studying songwriting, all with predictably average results. His singing voice was average; his musical ability was average; the songs he wrote, well, you get the idea.
During his years as king, there was another fly in Fflewddur's ointment: his kingdom was beseiged by women seeking to marry him. As a humble peasant, Fflam had nothing much to recommend him to the fair sex, but now, now he was a "catch." Not that the king would mind a sweet, gentle lady to share his castle, but the takers were all pushy, overbearing amazons eager to take Fflam in hand and "make something of him."
And so he passed his middle years, until it all became more than he could bear, and the unhappy king finally decided to abdicated the throne. Alas, with no heir, the council would not hear of it. But Fflewddur conjured up a happy compromise: he would announce the commencement of a Quest such as kings sometimes pursued, to fight dragons or make a pilgrimage or some such, leaving the kingdom in the capable hands of the council until such time as he might return victorious. Yes, once in a while, Fflewddur did come up with an idea that worked.
Thus, taking leave of his kingdom, Fflam at last achieved his dream and became a minstrel. The wandering part was only of necessity: no lord or noble would hire him. But that was nothing, for a Fflam never repines! He'd had enough of creature comforts and was as happy meandering through Prydain than he'd ever been in his life.
Fflewddur's one companion, if it could be called such, was a particular harp he'd found while poking round the castle treasury. Although it didn't look like much, perhaps, it was enchanted, and made his indifferent plucking sound a bit better. Alas, it also announced whenever its holder told a lie by snapping a string noisily. But, Fflam could live with that. After all, a Fflam never prevaricates! (*twang*)
His life as a bard occupied him into the beginnings of old age, but Fflewddur remained vigorous and healthy, though that nearly changed when he foolishly ventured too near the demain of the Horned King. He was captured easily, and might be there still if it hadn't been for two youths who rescued him. Fflewddur was only too glad to help them on their quest to find the Black Cauldron, for though the dangers were considerable, a Fflam never shirks!
Fflam wasn't particularly useful on the adventure, though he came out of it with a whole skin, even devising one good scheme that saved Gurgi's life, for it was his idea to trade the Cauldron to the Witches of Morva for the return of that furry creature. Now blessed with some very good friends and the knowledge that he'd helped to save Prydain from a great evil, Fflewddur was set to resume his pleasant life as a wandering minstrel, when he inexplicably found himself in a world stranger than any he'd ever imagined...
Ambitions: To be a world-renown bard and minstrel, to be free to do as he pleases without being bothered.
Strengths & abilities: Is a true friend in need, helping in whatever way he can. Unfortunately, Fflewddur has more good intentions than useful abilities. He's not really very good at anything, though once in a while he has a good idea that actually works.
Flaws: Mostly ineffectual, few things he tries actually work out. Not a great minstrel. Can be proud.
Likes: Music, cats, being his own man, peace and quiet
Dislikes: Overbearing women, cruelty, obscurity, people who try to "mold" him
Fears: Fflewddur has many fears, mostly just what you'd expect: death, danger, wild animals, monsters, enemies... He's usually afraid of ordinary dangers, which is, in a way, a sign of good sense. He is rarely paralyzed by fear, however, and doesn't let it stop him from doing what must be done, albeit, with a certain trepidation. He is truly afraid of the Horned King.
What makes this character unique: Fflewddur is the pinnacle of mediocrity, which, as a "unique" attribute, is a bit of a contradiction.
RP SAMPLE: See Basil
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