Agnis Ward
(Professor at Miskatonic)
Posts: 19
Likes: 0
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Post by Agnis Ward on Jan 4, 2016 1:02:41 GMT
Name: Agnis Ward
Occupation: Professor of Anthropology
Education: PhD
Birthplace & Nationality: Arkham (from England).
Mental Disorders: N/A
Sex: Female
Age: 36.
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STR:8
DEX: 15
INT: 15
IDEA: 7
CON: 5
APP: 10
POW: 12
LUCK: 60
SIZ: 16
SAN: 60
EDU: 21
KNOW: 105
99-Cthulhu Mythos: 0
Damage Bonus: 0
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Sanity Points: 53
(caps out at 62)
Magic Points: 11
(caps out at 12)
Hit Points: 11
(caps out at 11)
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Accounting (10%):
Anthropology (01%): 91
Archaeology (01%): 46
Art (05%):
Astronomy (01%):
Bargain (05%): 45
Biology (01%):
Chemistry (01%):
Climb (40%):
Conceal (15%):
Craft (05%):
Credit Rating (15%): 75
Cthulhu Mythos (00%): 2
Disguise (01%):
Dodge (DEX x2%):
Drive (20%):
Electrical Repair (10%):
Fast Talk (05%):
First Aid (30%): 40
Geology (01%):
Hide (10%): 10
History (20%): 50
Jump (25%):
Law (05%):
Library Use (25%): 95
Listen (25%):
Locksmith (01%):
Martial Arts (01%):
Mechanical Repair (20%):
Medicine (05%): 65
Natural History (10%):
Navigate (10%):
Occult (05%): 15
Operate Heavy Machine (01%):
Other Languages (01%):
_______Egpytian: 91
Own Language (EDU X5%):
Persuade (15%): 50
Pharmacy (01%):
Photography (10%):
Physics (01%):
Pilot (01%):
Psychoanalyze (01%): 46
Psychology (05%):60
Ride (05%):
Sneak (10%):
Spot Hidden (25%):
Swim (25%):
Throw (25%):
Track (10%):
Foil (20%) 93
Firearms
Handgun (20%):
Machine Gun (15%):
Rifle (25%):
Shotgun (30%):
Submachine gun (15%):
Melee
Fist (50%):
Grapple (25%):
Head (10%):
Kick (25%):
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Agnis Ward
(Professor at Miskatonic)
Posts: 19
Likes: 0
|
Post by Agnis Ward on Jan 4, 2016 2:42:34 GMT
Agnis was adopted at a young age by a family from Arkham, her adoptive family originally from England as well. Agnis went from rags to riches, to so speak - naturally from a very low class, squalor-living family who gave their children into the 'loving' arms of an orphanage, where Agnis was taken in relatively quickly. She has never considered herself less fortunate, and has always tried to look at life as positively as possible - if fate had been otherwise, she could very well be without parents and still on the streets (or so she thinks, anyway; it was her adoptive parent's money that pushed her into a boarding school not long after being adopted, and their money and support that sent her into the calloused hands of Miskatonic University).
Agnis has been traveling since her early days of college (where her interest in anthropology and archaeology blossomed). She has spent many of her college years traveling Egypt and various other countries in an attempt to become enriched in culture/history. Agnis has published a variety of papers on old Egyptian life, customs, and well documented a variety of more recent digs/findings at them. She has been a teacher at the Miskatonic University for [x] years, in the more recent ones Agnis has taken students with her to various dig sites and places of ancient civilization (with more recent years showing a growth in the student base that seeks out her tutelage).
Her primary focus is Egypt, but she has also explored a great deal of Scotland and Wales. Agnis, regardless of being a woman, is relatively well respected by her peers (although she does not have many close friends; her bubbly, talkative, and somewhat etiquette lacking nature has often gotten her looked down upon by other women and men in higher positions - both at the university and outside.. her social stature and wealth is often times what allows Agnis to get away with her basic nature, and how rambunctious and 'free spirited' she is ).
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Agnis Ward
(Professor at Miskatonic)
Posts: 19
Likes: 0
|
Post by Agnis Ward on Jul 27, 2016 20:32:33 GMT
You walk in. The faint smell of apples, oranges, and cinnamon fills the room - you imagine a candle had been lit recently, but was doused a while ago. Beige walls span upwards awkwardly from hard wood. To your left is a table. It is covered in mail - ones that are dusty and old with spilled coffee staining their edges. There's a letter opener cast aside, just barely peeking out from beneath an envelope. Beside it is a rotary telephone, battered and beaten from use. The hall is otherwise clear - a carpet stretches down the hall towards two doors, both are open wide. One leads into a tiled kitchen, you can just make out chairs along a far wall - windows let in bright sunlight, blinds lifted to let it in.
To your right is an open entryway, leading into a room with pale cream carpet and dark brown walls. Your eyes catch on a large table in the almost-center of the room. Packed atop it are books on the occult, on Egypt, on a variety of strange, foreign subjects. Pens litter the desk, as well as blank papers and sheets with illegible, awkward and unfinished scribbling. Decorations cover the table as well, a large figure of Bast holding down a book on Mediterranean culture that is jam-packed with notebook sheets. Peeking out from others are awards for publications, framed letters of recognition. Things that should be hung upon the walls, but have been discarded under more engaging and important work.
Against the right wall, snugly pressing into the corner, is a record player/radio combo. It is closed and covered in books, in paperwork. A silk scarf lays over the dusty files, beautiful pink and purple flowers contrasting against the soft mint green of the pattern's background. It threatens, with every small breeze of movement, to slip from its resting place. A picture frame, the image facing away from you, rests against the player. A spot on the wall indicates where it once rested, the nail now barren.
From your current position in the hallway, the third thing to draw your attention are bookshelves lining the walls - full of a myriad of books and papers. Some threaten to fall from the shelves, peeking precariously out from 3ring binders and notebooks. You step forward, into the living room as you take off your coat. You're not sure where to put it, so you drape it over your arm. To your right is a couch and coffee table. The couch has blankets upon it, knit work - or is that crochet? - beckoning you with promises of warmth and comfort. The couch looks new - unused and untouched compared to the rest of the room around it. Further into the room is a desk with a typewriter, littered with papers. You think you see another telephone upon the desk, but you are not certain. There is a tall floor lamp to its right, dim yellow light on in spite of the sunlight that pours into the room from behind the desk.
There is another shelf to the left of the desk, it is covered in small picture frames and a pot of hedera ivy drapes towards the window, leans against the wall. It sits on the topmost shelf and seems to be thriving, in spite of how little attention one would assume Agnis could afford it. It is ungroomed, one tendril of the plant reaching almost to the floor. The soil is damp, as if recently watered. Beside it is an orange and red candle, wax still melted below the wick.
You hear a voice call from the kitchen, then. Asking what you'd like to drink -- Agnis is beaming as you walk into the kitchen from the entry hall - eyes glancing into what you assume is the bedroom (from here you can see a pile of clothing upon the floor, underwear and a skirted suit set making your eyes dip away in second hand embarrassment). There was a lounge chair, your mind tells you, in front of what you think you vaguely think might be romance and language books. The tall floorlamp in the room had been on, and you had been able to -just- catch the sight of a comfortable bed -- surprisingly, it had looked as if someone had cared enough to make it.
As you step into the kitchen, you are surprised to see the room surprisingly clean (and that a chair has been abandoned to the immediate left of the entry door - upon the chair is a stack of paperwork and books, as if this is as far as Agnis had allowed her work to stretch). It is not in the least bit dusty, and well decorated. Counter tops line the far right of the room, and you can just make out Agnis' back as she roots through the fridge - grumbling about needing to use the milk before it goes back. Sunlight pours in from the only spot near the counter tops not taken up by cabinets. To the left, along a full windowed wall, is a table. The table is empty, aside from a bowl of fruit in the center. The chairs around it are packed too tight, the table seeming almost a little too large for the room.
You ask for a drink, and Agnis shuts the door as she pulls out a plate of clingfilm wrapped cookies (taking it off and setting the cookies next to the fruit on the table). She says to throw your coat anywhere - so you drape it, gnetly, over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Shifting, you ask to use the facilities.
Agnis motions behind you, and you turn to open the door and step in -- soft smells of mint and lemon waft to your nose. The bathroom is freshly mopped and scrubbed. Surfaces glint in the ceiling lights. There is a toilet to your left, white porcelain threatening to stain easily. A porcelain basin is held fast to the wall, with a small medicine cabinet mounted above. To the right is a hamper, underclothing peeking out from the wicker top. Then is a clawfoot porcelain tub, clawed feet threatening to crack the pale blue tile of the room. A curtain is pulled fast, blocking the inside - but you can see the metalwork needed for a shower peeking over the top of the curtains (held in place by a ring around the tub, hooked into the ceiling). You use the facilities, wash your hands (frowning as rusty water pours from the tap for a few moments before it runs clear).
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OH NOES
