Character Sheet: Allie Johnson

[Allie Johnson]

Name: Almira (Allie) Johnson

Gender: female

Age: 26

Occupation: Allie and her family are in the business of horses, and her dad owned a store that combined their ranch house with a tack shop and a general store. Now that her dad is dead, the store has passed to her, and all of the horses with it. They also ran a sort of blacksmith's shop.

Description: Allie is tanned by her years of working in the sun. Her hands have no smooth skin that ladies so often bragged of. Her hair is a dark blond with only a hint of sun-bleached strawberry left in it, and she keeps it wrapped up in a hasty bun. Her hat is black with a thin ring of silver around it. Any color on her clothing is long since sun-faded, and there is a decently thick layer of dust on everything she owns. Allie considers herself cursed with her mother's slender, curved figure and hates every time an eye is drawn to it. Her face had been delicately beautiful when she was younger, but it bears small resemblance now. If she took the time to brush her hair and wash her face, then some if it might begin to return, but it was unlikely that all of the previous beauty would come back. She has been in so many brawls that there are small scars on her arms and hands. A thin string of a scar stretches across her hairline for two or three inches over her left eye. Her eyes are dark and are a nondescript and tired shade of gray. Flecks of gold show up in them once she finally ends up in a good mood, but it's been a while since anybody has seen that bit of gold. She wears boots and chaps. Allie has a cocky, dark, and sure of herself attitude. Some may find it impossible to get along with her.

Bio: As a child, Allie worked with her father. She learned to shoe the horses and how to work oil back into an old and dried saddle. Any crops that had to be grown were tended by Allie, her older brother Julian and her father. With younger siblings, there is usually always a desire to exhibit the same type of behavior as the older ones. Allie demonstrated this perfectly, climbing into her brother's boots at a young age and beaming with admiration for him. She grew trying to copy his every move. When Julian was out, she tended the store for her father. When Julian allowed her to accompany him into town, she was more than excited; she was ecstatic. She rode behind him on his Buckskin and would try to lasso the dogs as they barked at the horse's heels. When she was old enough, her whole family went on a trip every other year to round up wild horses, brand and collect a few, then travel back home. This took quite some time usually, and the store and horses were left to a few trusted family friends for the few months that they were gone. After five trips, Allie was twenty-two and knew everything there was to know about being a cow-girl. There was a specific herd that they traveled to and that bore their brand.

In Allie's 23rd year a cattle stampede knocked down a good portion of their fences and most of their herd escaped, so they made an emergency trip that to their herd. A gang of rustlers intercepted her family where their herd should have been, and took everything from them. Her father and brother were killed before her eyes, and Allie couldn't do anything. She couldn't reach her gun, and was frozen on spot, shocked and dumbfounded. There was so much blood. It felt like everything inside of her was on fire. Breaking and on fire. Her father died almost immediately from a shot to the head, but her brother, shot in the chest, lived long enough to struggle to get to his gun and fire a wild shot at the man that was riding his horse away. His buckskin, his beautiful buckskin. It was hard to tell whether the bullet hit the horse, or the saddle, but either way, the rustlers weren't dead. Julian was. Her mother lost her sanity, and Allie, rather than care for her mother in her rapidly degenerating state, left the old woman in the nearest town and stole a red horse from the local stables. Her sense of direction not fully developed, Allie wandered from town to town, doing odd jobs. She went back to the place where she left her mother once, and found that not only was the town nearly dead, but nobody had ever heard of her mother. One woman seemed to remember that there had been a lady with a scrambled mind left in the town, but that was it.

Allie's fondness for barfights and alcohol lends to the fact that she is frequently kicked out of towns and even more frequently wakes up to the inside of a jail cell. After three years, she has decided to go back home and reclaim her father's store and ranch. Her heart is cold now, and her eyes are dark with lack of sleep.

Combat Ability: In a fair fist-fight, Allie can hold her own. She can take any man of equal weight and run him into the ground. She can hold her own against any man of equal height. Otherwise, she knows when to back off. With a gun, Allie is quick on the draw and has an accurate shot, but finds it difficult to shoot people. She would much rather draw a knife on them and kill them in a close hand-to-hand fight.

Affinity: technology. Allie's dark and curious mind will begin to keep her awake at night with new and spinning ideas. Mechanisms for fighting and transportation unwind themselves to her mind's eye. Particularly enticing to her is the idea of making a mechanical being. Her knowledge of horses leads her to begin with trying to create a mechanical horse. She also begins experimenting with electricity-firing guns.

[Mr. Pearse]

Criticism wise, tenses sometimes seem confused ("her hands have no smooth skin that ladies so often bragged of"), and some sentences could be shortened or otherwise refined (for instance, the moment where Allie's brother gets shot). I know you wanted to get some critical feedback on your character sheet, but I only noticed these few technical problems that can be easily attributed to rushing.

On the positive side, I like the character concept. We have a confused, deeply troubled drifter who almost certainly doesn't want to become the lady that segments of society might expect her to become. She is unpredictable, and - depending on how our story unfolds - she will certainly be dangerous.

Good work.

[Allie Johnson]

You know, my English teacher said almost the same thing when he read my most recent essay. Which, I'd like to point out, I thought was brilliant considering I'd written it off the top of my head.

And yes you're right. For some reason (maybe my lack of sleep), I kept confusing what tense I was in. It was quite strange. I'll look over it and fix it. I think haberville is having some strange effect on me that counters intelligence.

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