Pick Pocket "Pockets"
Mane: Long, jet black, fairly smooth and silky (She washes every day with conditioner :P)
Tail: Shorter, jet black, not as well kept as her mane.
Eyes: Milk Chocolate Brown.
Body: Thin, light, and above average height for size, and dull navy blue for color.
Cutie Mark: A lock with a key inside.
Age: Adult (29)
Personality: Pockets is light on her hooves, cocky, deceitful, somewhat wroth, greedy, and very perceptive. She can spot things from a mile away, and has a cold and calculating mind to figure out how she can own what she spotted. Some say she can be a bit of a Sociopath. When she sees something of moderate to high value she gets stars in her eyes. But when those stars are noticed, she doesn't get too cheery. Because often times it ends with her in trouble. Of course most of the time she can whip up a decent sob story or pin it on another pony somehow, but there's always room for failure. When failure does rear its ugly head, depending on the degree, she becomes a Vengeful Spirit. In some way, shape, or form, she will exact revenge on the pony who caused her trouble, and make them know it. She also has an uncanny hatred of walls. She never explained it thoroughly to anyone, but it's safe to assume it's because walls block her from seeing and stealing.
Likes: Wealth, material possessions, deception, speaking, thievery, crowds, and stealth.
Dislikes: Poverty, honesty, attention, walls (weird, I know), emotional moments, and face to face conflict.
History: Pockets was born to a simple ranching and farming family in southern Los Pegasus, fairly close to the Marexico (shut up) border, which is where she gets accent. She was the first of many foals, having 4 brothers and 5 sisters. While on rural land, they weren't that far off from the main city. It's where she went to school (barely) and picked up her "Special Talent."
Being in the city as a bright eyed young filly, she saw quite a few things that interested her. Her favorite place to hang out at was the local "mercado." She didn't have much money, but the fresh food, fashionable outfits, and other valuable wares, still caught her eyes. For the next two weeks, she began "borrowing" what she saw that she liked when the merchants were busy with the long lines. Always good to take some stuff on Payday.
Her Cutie Mark appeared when she picked the lock of a jewelers safe when he was having a fuss with this couple who was getting engaged. Eventually, and unfortunately, her parents came around and found out about her petty thievery. That evening the cattle and chickens couldn't sleep from the cries of pain that came from their house. To add some extra shame, her parents came around to calling her "Pick Pocket."
She spent the next few years of her life trying to resist the temptations to steal. Pockets could resist anything but temptation. Well, that was until her parents made it embarrassingly clear to the mercado what she had been doing. Her excuse was that with the state of their family, she had to take a few things here and there to make ends meet. Of course, her intentions were purely for her own benefit, but the story works. It did persuade most shop owners. Most. To make up for her thievery, she spent a lot of time working in the shops she stole from. She never let herself live that down.
That night, she set half the farm ablaze, as a means of revenge on her parents. Fortunately for her, banditos weren't the most uncommon in the area, so her parents just pinned it all on them. Pockets had a good mind for striking at the right places at the right times.
When she hit 13, her sticky hoof habits got her into a bad spot, when she got caught in a weapons salesman's store lifting a dagger. When the aggressive owner caught her, he took the dagger from her greedy hooves and swiped at her. He slashed the top part of her left ear off before she could make it out. It took a long time for it to heal, and it's very noticeable. When ponies ask, she just blames Timber Wolves.
Before she left High School, she acquired a secondary talent: Deceit. Along with her swiping abilities, she also learned how to concoct a nice story that could fake her way out of many situations. When you're someone like Pockets, you really should learn how to lie about certain things.
After High School, Pockets had a string of "bad years." Her parents and siblings always caught her swindling something. She had no idea what evil spirits were at work to cause her such rotten luck, which is the reason she never moved out of Los Pegasus until recently. Little personal wealth, rare opportunities, and no family support. Even when she did move out, it was more like "running away." She hopped a train that arrived at the station, and hoped it wouldn't come back. She ended up in Manehattan, and grabbed enough valuables in the people's luggage to sell it off and rent out a shabby apartment. She now resides in Manehattan, taking what she can from the lowly merchants. Not prime real estate by any means.
Example RP segment 3: Pockets made one of her very few poorly timed casing operations. Figures it had to rain on the day she wanted to eye up that new taco stand that opened up. Through the aggressive heavenly tear drops, she saw a light. Lights on usually means somepony's there. Rushing up to the patio she noticed that there was a gaggle of unknown ponies inside with mugs of cider.
"Oh por el amor de Celestia ..." She said. If she could find her house, she would just bum rush her way there, but the darkness and rain was making it difficult, even for her, to find her home.
With a deep breath, she walked into the door and took a seat on one of the stools at the bar. The bartender had a vast and fine collection of liquors. It's not like he would notice if a bottle went missing. If he did, he's probably smart enough to have more in stock.
Pockets had a few bits on her from scrounging around the place, and was fortunate enough to sit next to a stallion who was already wasted. His drink just ran out. Golden opportunity.
"Hola Amigo," she said, "have another one on me." She left him the bits she had so he could buy another round of Hard Apple Cider.
"Gee, thanks *hic* ma'am... You're coolsh..." He probably said. At this point he's more booze than stallion.
"See that idiota over there?" He pointed to a stallion who was obviously the leader of a group. "He was talking some hot mess about your family, esse."
"WHAT?!" he responded.
"Oh yeah. He said a few things about your Madre that I'd have to say quietly." She whispered some incoherent slurrs and insults to him that this stallion supposedly said.
"HE CAN'T TALK ABOUT MY MOMMA LIKE THAT!" The stallion marched off and gave this Ringleader a huge haymaker to the jaw. Not too long after, there was a huge brawl, and the bartender directed his attention to them. With no one by the shelf, Pockets swiped a bottle of wine and stepped out to the patio. Free drinks, and coverage from the rain. A good Saturday evening. If only that taco stand was still open...