The Empire's Subjects

[Roman Empire]

Claiming another first post. I don't really know why I do that. I can't recall what I would usually put in here. But just in case.

[Roman Empire]

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If A Name Was More Than a Title
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My full name is Marisol
Its meaning is Mary of the Sun
But you may call me Harper or Héctor if you wish



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Painted Like a Portrait
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I am a very pretty woman
I have been on this Earth twenty years
I am a human
I stand to the height of 5'5" tall
My skintone is a darker olive color
And my eyes are a deep brown, almost black really
My hair is straight black and is cut short
I have a Burn on the left of my neck, shoulders and back as well as quite a few scars on my back, sides and upper arms



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Behind This Mask You'll Find
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I promise I will always be very quiet and calm, my mind always at work. I often seem to have this far off expression on my face, like I am clearly thinking about some place else, or perhaps some great philosophical epiphany has come to me. Most likely the first. I am generally a kind person and cannot stand to have people around me end up getting hurt. Well, unless I am the one needing to inflict the pain, which is so frequent. But even in that, I work to stun, to bewilder my opponents in order to scare them into backing down without having to cause too much danger. That is me to the soul. I would do just about anything to avoid any actual harm to people. When I get angry, though, this is not always possible. I become more like an animal, a wild look in my eyes. Usually I fought carefully, observing the other person until the last moment and laying a final blow. But when I loose all claim to my calm demeanor I become more like a big cat trapped in a cage or a corner. This was not often, only really coming on by such a case; being trapped in a corner or losing something important to me. Otherwise I am the picture of the perfect gentleman.


But you see there is a reason to my rhyme. Marisol was born in a small village inland of the Argentina coast. She lived in the Andes mountains with her mom and two brothers. They often traveled into the Amazon Basin for business and pleasure, and Marisol lived a very happy adventurous life there. She never knew her father, though was told he was from Spain and lived there with his real family. She didn't get to live this simple life for long, though, as she was taken from her family to be part of a project that would "educate the barbarian masses". She was the oldest of her siblings, and the press always took greater ratings if the child who learned to be 'civilized' was a pretty little girl. And so she was shipped off on this filthy vessel to gain a new life when she was quite content with her old one. From the moment they came to her mother's door that balmy summer day everything seemed to keep getting worse and worse and worse. She was housed with a couple living in England, a doctor and his wife. She did rather like the lady, who was a teacher and showed her many new things. But the doctor was... Well he pretty much ruined her childhood. The newly named Harper stayed with them from the age of seven to eleven, when she escaped onto the streets where she hoped to be much safer. This, of course, was definitely wrong. She had to take up the life of a thief, stealing whatever she could to survive. It was simply too hard to find anyone to give her a real job. She thought she had found one, working in a home where she cleaned constantly. But when something came up missing she was the one blamed. Then came a life of beatings. Hmm, her world did seem to change in a range of stages. When one bad circumstance was evaded a new one would take its place. This beating one was short lived, as it ended with her being thrown into a fire and another hasty escape. After that came participation in several small gangs that never amounted to much of anything. Usually just poor young people fighting to the death for some stolen coins. In this field she actually excelled in after a while, though the work of harming people ate away at her soul. So it was also fairly short lived. Another stretch of unsuccessful jobs and then finally to her newest stage: Dressing like a man. What? It gave her more respect! She was much more likely to find a good job as a short male than she ever was as a woman. A sad little fact, but a fact nonetheless. So then came the emergence of Héctor, the strange short little 'muscle man' of an aging man's broken down tavern.


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Blood is Thicker Than Water
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My mother is Maria
And my father is a Spanish sailor
I have two brothers
I am sorry to say, but I am taken by no one
My children arenonexistant
But I could not forget my dear friends if I had any



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Catch Me on the Fly By
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I am currently the master muscle "man"
I call England my home
You can find me nowhere