Confidence "Con" Trick
Mane: Styled and meticulously MANEtained (haha), his royal blue mane is short, coifed, and proffessional.
Tail: As well taken care of as his mane.
Eyes: His one defect of which vexes him to no end, One eye is a deep brown ("The worse color! wet cardboard, mud, and POOP are of similar shade!), while the other a blue to match his coat. This is inherited from his mother, whom also had complete Heterochromia. He hides with a blue contact.
Body: A dark orange, his fur isn't as well maintained as his hair.
Cutie Mark: The Dramady masks in profile, Alluding to his abilities of deception and lying. Literally, it represents his "Two faced" nature.
Age (Baby,adult): A young stallion. On appearance alone, he can't be older than 30.
Personality: To be a good liar (and by dint of that, a spy), one needs a cool headed composure that is quick of wit and good at reading others. Con has an incredible passion and focus on his work, but his single mindedness can at times cause him to become distracted or miss things outside of his job. When not in a particular persona, Con is serious, but not without a sense of humor. With those he doesn't like, he adopts a psuedo friendly attitude, rife with sarcasm. He can at times be over paranoid, and forget what's it like to live a civilian life.
He has a very distinctively disarming laugh.
Likes: All things coffee, Eggs, reading, watching historical plays/documentaries, Fancy & fruity cocktails.
Dislikes:Tea of any sort, high pitch noises, Being taken advantage of, flying, Violence.
The Tricks are a long line of con ponies, snake oil sellers, and lawyers. All naturally gifted liars, The Trick family have been swindling and stealing from Equestria for eons. Con was born to criminal parents, who immediately put him on the path of perdition and prison.
They were loving, if a little dysfunctional parents. His father, Speed Trick's main concern was to keep the family together. His mother, Card Trick, didn't stop pushing to keep him pursuing the family trade. His younger brother, Street's birth did not daunt or soften his mother. Many evenings passed with both of them being harshly lectured.
The young Con took to lying like a True Trick. He took a particular love for making up and impersonating ponies that didn't exist. He won his cutie mark when he, at the age of 13, convinced a shopkeeper he was the mayor's son. At a certain point, however, after being arrested for the 14th time at the age of 16, He became disillusioned with the Con-Pony's life.
He ran away from his family two years later, and attempted to join the military under a new name and identity. After operating for three years under this persona, he was discovered and court martialed.
He would have been convicted too, if he hadn't piqued the interest of an Equestrian spy ring. For 5 years he underwent formal training in more practical matters: cryptography, information gathering, engineering, and some combat training. The last of these Con had the most trouble with, having been blessed with a silver tongue, not a pair of bulging biceps.
Con's magic is relatively weak, as unicorns go. What his telekinetics lacks in strength, it makes up for in intricacy. He is able to finely manipulate small things, which he can put to good use when he needs to work with delicate machinery, pick a lock, or palm something out of sight.
After a operation went south, Con was let go for a time.
He now drifts from town to town, taking odd jobs that put his skills to good work for whoever needs them. He avoids his parents as much as possible, but wants to find his brother, who is currently missing. He is also desperately trying to get back into the spy game.
Example RP segment: (#4)
"Please step outside, sir."
The second you step outside when commanded to by a guard, you admit defeat. It wasn't that Con was actually guilty, it's that he really didn't have the time to be arrested.
"Come on, guys... Haha..." He smiled as winningly as he could, leaning a hoof at the door in mock relaxation.
"Stop fool in' around. Did Volts put you up to this? He's such a kidder. Now if you excuse me I gotta take a major leak. Then I'll be right out to get 'arrested'."
Volts didn't exist, but the confusion on the guard's faces opened an opprtune moment to shut the door. Locking would be heard, so he could only bar it with a chair.
"Alright, Con. You've escaped the mafia, foreign hit men, and army convoys. Now just avoid prison." He muttered with grim determination. No reason to check the back door (these arrests were usually two pronged affairs) , so he headed straight for the stairs. The door recieved another knock. Con stood in the upstairs kitchen, weighing his options.
When the guards got to the top of the floor, all they found was an open window and a small blinking box that ticked and tocked threateningly.
How do you get the police to stop following you? Convince them there is a much greater issue they need to deal with. Like a time bomb.
The entire block was evacuated for a bomb scare, but on close inspection they found the supposed bomb was nothing but a little lightbulb connected to a egg timer. After the alarm went off, two peices of toast popped out of the box.