Post by Iracundus on Jun 12, 2010 18:58:26 GMT -5
Name :Nelle Calliope Armstrong
Alias : The Blacksmith girl, Blacksmith of Caerna, Red
Gender : Female
Age : 14
Race : Human
Sexuality : Undecided
Marital Status : Single
Religion : N/A
Origin : Nillea, father was born on Earth.
Current Residence : Caerna City, Commercial Quarter
Occupation : Blacksmith
Height : 5'4''
Weight : 116 lbs.
Body Type : Slender, but developing. Toned arms and legs from blacksmithing and exercise, respectively.
Skin : Somewhat pale, but surprisingly smooth considering her profession.
Eyes : Light, vibrant blue.
Hair : Bright orangeish-red, kept just above shoulder-length at its longest.
Physical Description : Slightly average for her age, but developing quickly, she has been noticed by many for her striking appearance. Her face and eyes are particularly noticeable, and her preference for brighter colors brings this out.
Speech : Hushed and quick most of the time when talking to herself. Speaks her father's flat American accent most of the time, but occasionally (to her embarrassment) slips into the aristocratic tone of Nillea's elite, a trait she picked up from Iracundus.
Personality : Quiet, but more than often than not quirky. She has a habit of talking too much when excited, and often has extended conversations with herself whilst forging or sewing. Often times adrift in her own thoughts or work, she seems airheaded to many, but in actuality, she's a good deal smarter than the vast majority of her patrons.
Likes : Her hobby and secondary job, sewing and tailoring. She enjoys all the facets of creating wardrobes and her work has won several minor awards in the city. Her life as blacksmith keeps her reputation in check, as the social elite of Nillea have often held her work in disdain due to her "dirty" occupations. She enjoys reading and learning, but is more the artist than professor, preferring to create rather than dismantle for the process of learning. She has dabbled in creating shoes and jewelry, as well.
Dislikes : The Monarchy and their clout, the exception being Iracundus, whom she has known for her entire life.
Fears : Rejection. Despite being a sociable creature, she is rather sensitive at times and hides some of her personality out of the aforementioned fear. A tad claustrophobic.
Family : Her father, Mark Jacob Armstrong and an unknown mother.
History : Her father named Nelle Armstrong such for reasons twofold. His childhood hero was known to their world by a similar name, and his fondness for the name of "Nillea", despite its meaning. Born in a rapidly changing and rather tough city, Nelle became exceptionally keen to learning. In her youth she quickly took up her father's profession as a blacksmith (of which he is known as the best in the city, if not the country). After sufficiently master her father's technique, she took up various arts, from painting to singing and dancing. Her favorite had always been creating clothes from scratch.
At the age of nine she entered her first clothing design contest, earning high honors in the juniors division. At this point she was offered a contract for her designs that her father refused. While he merely wished her child to be allowed to be a child, Nelle was upset and saw it as her father trying to keep her for smithing skills. The week following his decision she ran away from home. Alone in the capital, she adapted to a temporary life of tramphood, picking up various ways of surviving. Using the money she earned from her allowance, she was able to gamble herself extra money in a game she found to be exceptionally skilled (or lucky) at - Blackjack. Tripling her amount of money in a single game after several rounds of practice, she became a target by those she won versus.
Storm clouds built over the city, blacking out the moon and stars. Nelle ran. Her endurance didn't help her against her opponents-their fully grown bodies covered far more ground more quickly- so she began to climb. It was no use. Getting high above the Commercial Quarter, she found herself cornered. Sure that her life was about to end, she closed her eyes and waited for the moment her captors to do what they would do.
That moment never came.
A mysterious man, garbed in a silken robe and adorned with a sugegasa had stood where her attackers formerly appeared. They lay in a heap. She lay wide-eyed before her savior. The man knelt beside her, tending to a scrape at her elbow.
"Not too bad. It's not often I come to the city, so I'm glad I could help," he said wiping the minute wound clean with a stinging pad that felt strangely satisfying over the cut. "Though a young one like you must be a runaway. I believe it is time to go home, miss..."
"Nelle. It's Nelle. And uh, thank you."
"It is no problem," he said, helping her to her feet and leading her down into the city streets. "It is always good to help someone and know they mean to flatter me without words."
"Huh?"
"Little Nelle, you're blushing."
"But-uh...about home...I don't know if I can go back, she said, trailing off, her eyes avoiding his handsome face. "I mean...my Dad..."
"He is an old softy, that Mark," he whispered, to her astonishment. "He will likely forgive you if we head back together."
Nelle stalled, biting her lip. How did he know her father's name? He certainly didn't seem of ill-intent. There were no off-feelings, like her attackers gave so strongly. The man looked down at her with a soft smile, long hair tied mostly back. A single wisp waved down his face, hardly covering any of its features at all. The smile comforted Nelle. She hadn't the words to rebel against such a man, and merely nodded.
"Don't worry. It is good I have business with your father. Most fortunate timing for childhood rebellion, I would say."
Upon reaching home a visibly upset father admonished his daughter, then doted on her. She was to be punished, but not severely. The man had saved her life and returned her to a caring father that she saw as more merciful due to his arrival.
This was her first crush.
At the age of twelve she got a dog and named it after the man. Life has been quiet for her since. Mostly.
Allegiance : Nillea, loosely. Her father's business, closely.
Weapons : She keeps a hammer with her most of the time, but has a variety of other weapons she kept for herself.
Magick : Negligible.
Strengths : Having grown up with weapons, she is showing capabilities beyond what she expected. Is rather cheerful most of the time, or at least friendly and is capable of building a bigger picture for herself and filling it in to the minute details.
Weaknesses : Fears rejection, is bound by mortality in a world of gods and demons. Socially, she can be manipulated by acceptance or rejection and has considerable emotional sensitivity at times.
Extra Information : Wears teashade glasses most of the time but actually has perfect vision.
Reference Picture(s) : Nelle in fancier garb, perhaps for a date.
Sample Post :
Alias : The Blacksmith girl, Blacksmith of Caerna, Red
Gender : Female
Age : 14
Race : Human
Sexuality : Undecided
Marital Status : Single
Religion : N/A
Origin : Nillea, father was born on Earth.
Current Residence : Caerna City, Commercial Quarter
Occupation : Blacksmith
Height : 5'4''
Weight : 116 lbs.
Body Type : Slender, but developing. Toned arms and legs from blacksmithing and exercise, respectively.
Skin : Somewhat pale, but surprisingly smooth considering her profession.
Eyes : Light, vibrant blue.
Hair : Bright orangeish-red, kept just above shoulder-length at its longest.
Physical Description : Slightly average for her age, but developing quickly, she has been noticed by many for her striking appearance. Her face and eyes are particularly noticeable, and her preference for brighter colors brings this out.
Speech : Hushed and quick most of the time when talking to herself. Speaks her father's flat American accent most of the time, but occasionally (to her embarrassment) slips into the aristocratic tone of Nillea's elite, a trait she picked up from Iracundus.
Personality : Quiet, but more than often than not quirky. She has a habit of talking too much when excited, and often has extended conversations with herself whilst forging or sewing. Often times adrift in her own thoughts or work, she seems airheaded to many, but in actuality, she's a good deal smarter than the vast majority of her patrons.
Likes : Her hobby and secondary job, sewing and tailoring. She enjoys all the facets of creating wardrobes and her work has won several minor awards in the city. Her life as blacksmith keeps her reputation in check, as the social elite of Nillea have often held her work in disdain due to her "dirty" occupations. She enjoys reading and learning, but is more the artist than professor, preferring to create rather than dismantle for the process of learning. She has dabbled in creating shoes and jewelry, as well.
Dislikes : The Monarchy and their clout, the exception being Iracundus, whom she has known for her entire life.
Fears : Rejection. Despite being a sociable creature, she is rather sensitive at times and hides some of her personality out of the aforementioned fear. A tad claustrophobic.
Family : Her father, Mark Jacob Armstrong and an unknown mother.
History : Her father named Nelle Armstrong such for reasons twofold. His childhood hero was known to their world by a similar name, and his fondness for the name of "Nillea", despite its meaning. Born in a rapidly changing and rather tough city, Nelle became exceptionally keen to learning. In her youth she quickly took up her father's profession as a blacksmith (of which he is known as the best in the city, if not the country). After sufficiently master her father's technique, she took up various arts, from painting to singing and dancing. Her favorite had always been creating clothes from scratch.
At the age of nine she entered her first clothing design contest, earning high honors in the juniors division. At this point she was offered a contract for her designs that her father refused. While he merely wished her child to be allowed to be a child, Nelle was upset and saw it as her father trying to keep her for smithing skills. The week following his decision she ran away from home. Alone in the capital, she adapted to a temporary life of tramphood, picking up various ways of surviving. Using the money she earned from her allowance, she was able to gamble herself extra money in a game she found to be exceptionally skilled (or lucky) at - Blackjack. Tripling her amount of money in a single game after several rounds of practice, she became a target by those she won versus.
Storm clouds built over the city, blacking out the moon and stars. Nelle ran. Her endurance didn't help her against her opponents-their fully grown bodies covered far more ground more quickly- so she began to climb. It was no use. Getting high above the Commercial Quarter, she found herself cornered. Sure that her life was about to end, she closed her eyes and waited for the moment her captors to do what they would do.
That moment never came.
A mysterious man, garbed in a silken robe and adorned with a sugegasa had stood where her attackers formerly appeared. They lay in a heap. She lay wide-eyed before her savior. The man knelt beside her, tending to a scrape at her elbow.
"Not too bad. It's not often I come to the city, so I'm glad I could help," he said wiping the minute wound clean with a stinging pad that felt strangely satisfying over the cut. "Though a young one like you must be a runaway. I believe it is time to go home, miss..."
"Nelle. It's Nelle. And uh, thank you."
"It is no problem," he said, helping her to her feet and leading her down into the city streets. "It is always good to help someone and know they mean to flatter me without words."
"Huh?"
"Little Nelle, you're blushing."
"But-uh...about home...I don't know if I can go back, she said, trailing off, her eyes avoiding his handsome face. "I mean...my Dad..."
"He is an old softy, that Mark," he whispered, to her astonishment. "He will likely forgive you if we head back together."
Nelle stalled, biting her lip. How did he know her father's name? He certainly didn't seem of ill-intent. There were no off-feelings, like her attackers gave so strongly. The man looked down at her with a soft smile, long hair tied mostly back. A single wisp waved down his face, hardly covering any of its features at all. The smile comforted Nelle. She hadn't the words to rebel against such a man, and merely nodded.
"Don't worry. It is good I have business with your father. Most fortunate timing for childhood rebellion, I would say."
Upon reaching home a visibly upset father admonished his daughter, then doted on her. She was to be punished, but not severely. The man had saved her life and returned her to a caring father that she saw as more merciful due to his arrival.
This was her first crush.
At the age of twelve she got a dog and named it after the man. Life has been quiet for her since. Mostly.
Allegiance : Nillea, loosely. Her father's business, closely.
Weapons : She keeps a hammer with her most of the time, but has a variety of other weapons she kept for herself.
Magick : Negligible.
Strengths : Having grown up with weapons, she is showing capabilities beyond what she expected. Is rather cheerful most of the time, or at least friendly and is capable of building a bigger picture for herself and filling it in to the minute details.
Weaknesses : Fears rejection, is bound by mortality in a world of gods and demons. Socially, she can be manipulated by acceptance or rejection and has considerable emotional sensitivity at times.
Extra Information : Wears teashade glasses most of the time but actually has perfect vision.
Reference Picture(s) : Nelle in fancier garb, perhaps for a date.
Sample Post :