Dora Viaton
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Appearance: Long soft brunette hair, with big angelic curls on the bottom. Her light green eyes adding to her angelic and innocent appearance and her thin, 5’6” body frame, more slender than most but not malnuturished. Her skin a natural olive tan color, freckles speckled on her cheeks, nose and shoulder tops.
Personality: Passive and Naïve. The rest to be seen as she developes.
Background: Her parents died when she was young, leaving her in the care of her aunt, Robert Whipstaff. The day she moved in with her aunt, everything in her life changed, she was locked up in the attic of the orphanage her aunt ran, separated from everyone else. No matter how much she kicked and screamed, the door never opened unless it was her Aunt to come beat her for being to loud or to bring her meals on days she behaved. Dora quickly forgot about her parents and any other family she might have had. She did only as she was told by her aunt, ready and studying in the attic. Her only source of light was the small window on the west side of the attic. She could always here the children downstairs playing and learning; every now and then she was able to see them playing outside when they were allowed. But she had never met them, and doubted she ever would.
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Appearance: Long soft brunette hair, with big angelic curls on the bottom. Her light green eyes adding to her angelic and innocent appearance and her thin, 5’6” body frame, more slender than most but not malnuturished. Her skin a natural olive tan color, freckles speckled on her cheeks, nose and shoulder tops.
Personality: Passive and Naïve. The rest to be seen as she developes.
Background: Her parents died when she was young, leaving her in the care of her aunt, Robert Whipstaff. The day she moved in with her aunt, everything in her life changed, she was locked up in the attic of the orphanage her aunt ran, separated from everyone else. No matter how much she kicked and screamed, the door never opened unless it was her Aunt to come beat her for being to loud or to bring her meals on days she behaved. Dora quickly forgot about her parents and any other family she might have had. She did only as she was told by her aunt, ready and studying in the attic. Her only source of light was the small window on the west side of the attic. She could always here the children downstairs playing and learning; every now and then she was able to see them playing outside when they were allowed. But she had never met them, and doubted she ever would.
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